The ruined columns of Athena’s temple came into view. In the dark, the marble took on a ghostly light that was more in tune with the Underworld than it was here on shining Olympus.
Part of the massive temple had collapsed; one side of the columns had fallen. The long front steps had cracked, as though a giant fist had slammed the center, forcing the sides upward.
A column had fallen across the two-story doorway. Inside was nothing. Just darkness. And, once, a gateway into the ruins of New 2 that no longer existed.
It seemed like a lifetime ago that I’d come through that gate with Sebastian and Henri...
“Ari.” Mel’s whisper drew me from my thoughts. I was standing in front of Athena’s temple, just staring. Remembering. Remembering a lot of things.
My chest hurt whenever I thought of her now. Her decline. Her brutal madness. And, in the end, her hurt and her love.
Athena had hurt my mother, my family, so badly.
So badly.
And, yet, in her eyes, in those final moments, I’d seen someone else there, her true self, the self that had been swallowed up by the grief of losing her son, by her rage at not being able to save him, and by the father who betrayed her. It had completely overtaken her.
But in the end, she’d been there, the true Athena. I’d seen her, connected with her, understood her.
I couldn’t forgive her, but I understood. And that was enough for now.
Mel called my name again. I drew in a deep breath and stepped through the high weeds and grass to the side of the temple where a large garden had once been. Once, a tall marble wall had enclosed the place. Once, there had been fountains, flowers, and shining statues. And then more statues were added, and then more and more, until the entire garden had been overtaken.
And then time passed and the garden was forgotten.
The statues of those trapped in stone were now ancient. Moss and lichen had made their homes on the marble skin. Vines and roots curled from the ground, wrapping around arms and legs and chaining them to the earth.
Some had fallen, forever broken, forever set free.
I hesitated at the scene, my heart pounding. This was my domain and, through my ancestors, my creations. My responsibility. The dreams that had been keeping me up at night had been about this garden. About my choice to leave them or free them, and all the complexities and consequences involved. Now I was standing here facing a path that could shape a future purpose.
I wasn't just a killer.
I could be more.
I could be so much more.
My gaze found Mel and Violet. I swallowed and tried to smile. I felt such a connection with them. Even Mel, who I understood much better than I ever thought I would. Like me, they were both one of a kind. The Titan shieldmaiden. The goddess of light and dark. And me, god-killer and resurrectionist.
All right, Selkirk. Stop being all sappy and get this done.
I drew the crisp night into my lungs and walked into the garden, knowing I could save all these people.
If they wanted to be saved.
If they deserved to be saved.
And there was the rub. I had no way to tell.
Euthymia could give me some of the answers, some insight.
I let Mel lead the way through the garden since she knew Euthymia’s location.
Just like the times I’d been here before, the tingle came, my body reacting to the stone, to the power that had fashioned it. I shivered, feeling as though somehow they knew I was here, the warriors, male and female, with their swords drawn, shields raised. The women frozen in horror or cowering, their arms thrown over their faces. Though, it had been too late. The children here, however, were different. They’d faced the monster; they hadn’t known better, hadn’t known not to look--not in that one split second. Their weathered stone eyes stared out blank and lost.
And then there was Euthymia.
Mel and Violet stopped in front of a statue, which had been placed upon a pedestal. She was the epitome of a classical Greek beauty. Perfect, really. A time capsule in her ancient Greek gown, sandals, and bands that held back the sides of her upswept hair. She was tall, graceful, her shoulders were back and her chin was up in defiance. I cocked my head as I studied her. Her expression was one of deep conviction and courage. Euthymia had known exactly what she was doing and what she was giving up.
She didn’t look cowardly to me.
Violet reached out and tentatively poked at the air around Euthymia. Like touching a calm pond, a shimmering wave went from her fingertip and enclosed the whole of the statue.
I exchanged a look with Mel. Thanatos had protected the statue, had the foresight to prepare. Had waited. Just in case.
But then I supposed that was also embedded in his being, his attributes as the god of death. Death came to everyone, sooner or later, and its god was a master at patience.
Mel fished in her pocket and pulled out a black medallion that fit in the palm of her hand. On its center was the impression of a jagged, sharp-winged butterfly. Then, she flipped it like a coin toward the barrier, end over end. When it hit the barrier, the medallion burned it away. A small piece of the medallion floated up and transformed. Wings appeared and the small black butterfly flew away into the darkness.
“Cool,” Violet murmured.
With the protective barrier gone, Mel stepped aside.
My turn.
Violet gazed up at me and gave me an encouraging smile. “You got this.”
I smiled. “Thanks, kiddo.” I squeezed her shoulder before turning to Mel. “Be ready. I don’t think Euthymia’s going to be happy I woke her up.”
And then it was just me and Euthymia. My nerves worked overtime, slowly creating a storm of adrenaline that rolled over me. Like lightning, it zipped through my veins, hot and stinging until I felt the familiar stir of the monster, coiling, gathering strength.
Body humming, I stepped onto the pedestal. This close, my power leapt and snapped, electric currents lighting a fire beneath my skin. My eyes began to burn, but I ignored it and reached up, taking her face in my hands. The contact sent a shock through my system. Her cheeks were cold and hard. I rubbed my thumbs over her skin, following the curve beneath her eyes.
My entire body vibrated with power. I had to fight to contain it, to keep it growing and building. When it felt as though I’d burst, when everything inside of me burned and every nerve lit with pain, I closed my eyes, gripped harder, and let it all out.
It flowed out of me like water breaking from a dam.
There was no sense of time, no perception of place, no emotions, nothing but the moment.
Eventually, things began to filter in. The garden. The night. The cold stone beneath my hands. I opened my eyes and waited, knowing my power worked from the inside out.
Slowly, stone became smoother, eyes softer. On my tip toes I pressed my forehead against hers, willing her to be whole, that every part would be as it was.
I didn’t know how long I stayed like that, but somewhere along the way, things changed, and where there had once been stone now there were cold cheeks beneath my hands. I leaned back and stared into dazed blue eyes.
And then we both crumbled to the pedestal. I was weak but held onto her, making sure she didn’t fall off and hit her head. That was all we needed.
Mel was there almost instantly, helping move Euthymia from the pedestal and to the ground. I swung my legs over the pedestal and sat there a while, elbows on my knees and head low, feeling completely drained.
A tiny hand touched my head. Violet came in closer and hugged me. The gesture made tears come to my eyes and suddenly I was an emotional wreck.
The shuffling and grunts of a struggle broke us apart.
Mel and Euthymia were tangled in each other, Euthymia in full blown panic and trying to fight Mel off and gain her freedom. She didn’t know what was going on.
“Ow, bitch,” Mel cursed when Euthymia’s elbow cracked against her nose. She released the grace. Euthymia scr
ambled back and crouched, ready to flee. Her round, panicked eyes flicked over me.
She tried to speak but all that came out were choked sounds. She blinked, closed her mouth, swallowed, and tried again. Same thing, but she kept going until her voice returned and the words that flowed out of her were quick and rambling ancient Greek.
“What’s she saying?” Violet asked.
At Violet’s voice, Euthymia’s head jerked in her direction. She frowned, obviously not expecting a child to be here. Then, her gaze went to me, studying, trying to ascertain the threat.
Mel dabbed her nose and held her fingers up to check for blood. She said something to Euthymia, which sounded something along the lines of hit me again and I’ll kill you.
Euthymia’s eyes narrowed. She said something back and Mel answered and then pointed to me. Ah, so that part was out of the way. I gave a little wave. Yep, that was me who brought you back. Euthymia didn’t seem to appreciate my humor.
Mel pushed to her feet. “Something’s not right.”
My stomach knotted and instantly I wondered if I’d screwed up and brought her back unwhole. “What do you mean?”
“That’s not Euthymia.”
TWENTY-SIX
“THAT’S NOT EUTHYMIA,” I repeated Mel’s ludicrous words with a flat tone. My stomach twisted in to a tight ball. “You know, if this is your idea of a joke, it isn’t funny.”
Mel shot me a smart-ass look. “It’s not a joke. And it’s not her.”
“It has to be her,” I argued, my voice rising. “She was on the pedestal, had the goddamn protection around her--that Thanatos’ medallion broke, by the way. So how can that not be her?” The panic that had been on Euthymia’s face started to creep into mine. I started pacing. Mel had to be wrong. I ran a hand down my face and tried to chill, to think rationally.
“Okay,” I said, optimistically. “Maybe you’re mistaken. Have you ever seen Euthymia before?” Her murderous glare answered that question. Of course she had. “Well,” I threw my hands in the air, at a loss. “We’re taking her to Thanatos. He’s the one who put the shield around her. He saw her. He wouldn’t have done that if it was the wrong person.”
Euthymia chose that moment to make for the trees. In an impressive move, Mel reached behind her shoulder, grabbed her staff, and shot Euthymia with a glowing gray bolt. The grace was knocked flat on her face, landing so hard her white gown billowed up around her.
Mel parked the end of the staff in the grass, her grip tight, and gave me a cold stare. “It’s not Euthymia. It’s her twin.”
I stared blankly, hearing the words, but not wanting any part of them. So, of course, they settled like a two ton weight on my shoulders.
We were so screwed.
I dropped my butt on the pedestal put my head in my hands, my brain just totally shutting down. Her twin. Her fucking twin. A wretched laugh caught in my throat.
“Ari.” I didn’t respond to Mel’s voice. I was too numb, too defeated.
She let out an irritated snort, the sounds of her footsteps fading as she went to retrieve the twin.
There was nothing I could do to fix the situation. I’d done what Thanatos wanted. I’d resurrected the statue that he’d indicated, the one he’d protected all this time. The fact that he didn’t know his mate from her twin wasn’t my problem. The mistake was his, not mine.
The only thing I could do was take the grace to the Underworld and keep my end of the bargain.
I’d do my part. And I wanted Archer in return.
More ancient pissed off Greek filled the air. I dropped my hands and glanced up as Mel dragged the grace over to the pedestal by the upper arm. It was no wonder I hadn’t been able to reconcile the proud, determined expression of the statue with the fearful Euthymia who couldn’t face Death and turn him down.
This was no cowardly grace.
“What’s her name?” I asked as Mel released the grace at the same time the grace jerked away, losing her balance and falling to her knees in the grass.
“Thalia.”
Thalia cursed and spit on the ground. Her blue eyes burned with fury. My brow lifted as I gave her an unimpressed look. She could be mad all she wanted. It wasn’t going to change a thing.
“She explain why the hell she’s here and her sister isn’t?”
Mel spoke to her and Thalia immediately went into a long animated rant. By the time she was done, she was breathing hard. But, hey, at least her color was better. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes and glared at us.
“She says Euthymia was already in love with someone else when Hera gifted her and her sister to Thanatos and Hypnos. Basically, Euthymia freaked. She vowed she’d die before wedding Thanatos. If she ran, Hera would’ve destroyed her and her beloved. If she committed suicide Thanatos would’ve tortured her soul. Seeing no other way out, she decided to journey to a cave thought to be the home of a gorgon...”
And freeze herself for all time.
“Let me guess, loving twin that she was, Thalia took her sister’s place.” I shook my head.
“Pretty much. Thalia beat her sister to the cave. I’m guessing Euthymia didn’t know what Thalia had planned.” Mel paused to listen to Thalia speak. “Thalia’s sacrifice allowed Euthymia to flee with her beloved. Thalia says she had no love, and wanted her sister to be happy and free of the gods’ service. No one realized what she had done; they just assumed she was so grief-stricken by her sister’s choice that she went into seclusion.”
“That’s so sad,” Violet commented in a near whisper.
“It was all very dramatic,” Mel said. “The scandal of the day. I remember it well. Once Thalia was turned to stone it was impossible to tell the twins apart, obviously. It fooled Hera and Thanatos . . . and me.”
I studied Thalia for a long moment. She stared right back at me with defiance, still on her knees, still tense and ready to run again. “I get it,” I told her even though she couldn’t understand. “I do.” I knew what it was like to love someone so much you’d give up everything for them. “But, man, you really screwed things up.”
And when Thanatos learned his betrothed had lived out her life with the man she loved, the world would feel his wrath. “You think she’s still alive?” I asked. “Graces are immortal.”
“If she is, she’ll soon wish otherwise. Her beloved was human. She might have joined him in the afterlife when he died, I don’t know.”
“Wouldn’t Thanatos know if she’d died?”
“Not necessarily. He doesn’t have the time to escort every single soul into the Underworld. He has legions of soul collectors to assist him. She may have escaped his notice. Or she could still be among the living.”
And one way or another Thanatos would find out. Wherever Euthymia ended up, he’d scour the Underworld and every corner of the living world to find her. Thalia’s sacrifice had only bought her sister time, nothing more. But then time was a precious gift when it was spent with those you loved. Euthymia had one hell of a sister.
I slapped my hands on my thighs, drawing in a deep inhale and then releasing it into the night air. “All right, well, I guess we’ll rest up a bit and then head back to face the music.”
Rope materialized in Mel’s hand. She grabbed Thalia’s arm before the grace could react. The litany of curses didn’t bother Mel in the least as she tied the grace to a statue. Once that was done, she sat against a stone column, crossed her ankles, and closed her eyes.
Violet curled up on the grace’s pedestal, her hands under her cheek.
I sat at the pedestal’s base and leaned back, staring across the lake. The light, the fires, the temples glowed with warmth. Faint notes of music crossed the distance. Envy trickled in, making me wish I had some of that warmth, some of the peace and oblivion so many of the gods had when it came to hard knocks.
Instead, I was over here on the dark side about to go into the Underground and watch Thanatos go nuclear.
Yay.
My head fell back to rest on the stone
and I closed my eyes.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“DRINK IT, YOU FOOL. You know you need it.” A hand gripped the back of his skull, holding his head up from the bed. “And you sure as hell know you want it.”
Groggy, he came to, having to blink several times to make the double vision go away and the room sharpen into focus. Phillip loomed over him, shoving a cup against his lips.
Instantly, his senses snapped to attention.
Blood. Warm, fresh blood.
God.
The scent filled his nose, yet he couldn’t seem to lift his arms to grab the cup. This seemed to infuriate Phillip.
A groan broke through his dry lips.
“Qui, you want,” Phillip said, straightening as Sebastian’s head hit the pillow. Phillip’s mouth drew into a smirk and his ice blue eyes went hard. He brought the cup to his own lips and drank, eyes never leaving Sebastian’s.
A flare of rage erupted in his chest.
“Hmm. Good, this vintage.” A drop of blood pooled at the corner of Phillip’s mouth as he eased the cup away from his lips. Asshole left the blood there on purpose, the red gleaming in the candlelight, so perfect. Then, Phillip licked it away and turned to leave only to be met with the advisor.
For a moment they said nothing.
“Bring more,” she finally said, her voice neutral. “Three cups.”
Phillip let out a snort and left.
Sebastian’s hunger gnawed at him, but it was bearable. Blood would be here soon. And it would flow down his throat and fill him up, and wipe away Lamia’s touch and influence.
Her scent was still on him, making his stomach turn. His neck had healed, and he was no longer hooked to an IV. He pushed up as much as he could, the advisor helping to adjust the pillow behind him. After, she returned to the chair in the corner.
He stared at her, the last conversation he’d heard replaying in his mind. He wanted to see what she’d say, what else she might reveal. “Why the hell am I here?” The low scratchy tone of his voice surprised him.