by Kelly Keaton
Poetic justice, Pandora style.
“Well, if the Front does have him,” I said, “at least we know they won’t harm him.” He was the son of their lost leader. He was the one who would bring about their long-sought vengeance against the gods.
Still, it was small comfort.
“How big is the Front now?” I asked.
“From what we can tell, tens of thousands,” Rowen answered. “Made up of Bloodborns, lesser vampires--the Turned, the Dayborn--and humans. Their network is vast. Salic Law appeals to people, draws them in. If you're part of the tribe, you get the protection the tribe and all its power provides. Not in the family, then you're out of luck. You're on your own; you have no right of protection. The weak gravitate to that protection and so their numbers continue to grow.”
“We might be a small city, but we keep our eyes and ears to the ground,” Bran said. As Head of Security for New 2 since its inception, he should know. “Before we all came together and built New 2, we came from all parts, we have ties across the globe. Our contacts are vast and loyal. I won't say more, but if Archer is with the Front we can find out. And leave that to me.” He gave me and Sebastian a pointed look. “The last thing we need is to have you two standouts showing up in Europe.”
“I think it would be best if we also explored other enemies of interest,” Nikolai suggested. “Archer's kidnapping could be a more personal thing. Simon Baptiste is still unaccounted for and remains a threat not to be overlooked. I cannot imagine he'd simply walk away after his son was killed.” He flicked a glance my way and said smoothly, “In self defense, of course.”
I frowned. It had been self defense.
“I’ll work with Jenna,” my father said. “I believe Apollo's power might have jump-started her prophetic abilities. And since I'm the only one among us who can speak the ancient language that leaves me here to translate. Perhaps she'll have insight into where Archer is or at least what's to come.”
Michel pushed away from the table. “And I’ll hold down the fort here, direct funds as needed, keep an eye out on the movements in the city, watch over the kids, and make sure we all have the latest information as it becomes available.”
“I'll go to the library,” Rowen said, standing. “And put in a request with the Keeper, gather my supplies, and come back to work on Apollo.”
Michel joined her, a gentle hand on her elbow. “Let me go to the library. You get your supplies and start on Apollo. It'll be quicker that way.”
They shared a familiar look that made me wonder if there was something romantic brewing between them.
With a curt nod, Rowen left the room.
Quicker was better. The sooner I had something tangible to look for in Olympus, and Sebastian was on his way to Egypt, the better.
FIVE
WITH EVERYONE KNOWING their roles, the meeting ended. My father was the last to leave the balcony, offering me a supportive squeeze on the shoulder before going to check on Jenna and Apollo. I waited until he was gone before facing Sebastian, unable to shake the sense of doom at the thought of him going alone to look for Horus.
“I know it's right,” I started as he closed the distance, his eyes turbulent and reckless as he grabbed my hips. “To split up. To hedge our bets, but--” His unexpected kiss was hard and wild, and seemed to hold all the emotions of the day.
Pressed so tightly together, I could feel the pounding of his heart against my chest.
Then, the floor to drop out from under me. A gasp broke from my lips. My arms dug into his shoulders as my entire body dispersed.
Sebastian had traced me.
One second, I was at Michel’s, and the next I was nothing but a wisp, a thought, pure energy.
Just as quickly, I was standing in my bedroom in the GD with Sebastian’s arms locked tightly around me to catch me when my weight settled and my knees went weak.
“Jesus,” I managed as my senses came flooding back. “A little warning next time, Lamarliere.”
His laugh was low, his breath stirring the loose hairs around my temple.
“Why did you trace me?” I swallowed down the unwelcomed wave of nausea that came from tracing. But, the feeling only lasted a few seconds as my equilibrium returned to normal.
“So you can pack. I know how you like to have your weapons and blades with you.”
I smiled. He knew me so well.
“We have time,” he added. “You have to wait until Rowen examines Apollo, and I have to wait for my father to get back from the library. Plus,” he paused. “I wanted to be alone with you.”
I leaned back in his arms and lifted my chin. Steady gray eyes stared back at me. He had a beautiful face, stoic at times, but I was getting good at reading his emotions. And every day he was getting stronger, the vampire in him settling in, becoming a part of him, changing him ever so slightly on the outside, and by leaps and bounds on the inside.
He continued to get his blood from a bag, courtesy of his father arranging a nice collection of willing donors. Sebastian could still enjoy food, but he didn’t need it to survive. He needed blood. And as long as he fed once a week he stayed strong and healthy. The older he got, the less he’d need.
It made me wonder about Michel and Sebastian’s mother, and if she’d ever fed from Michel, if her need for blood had caused problems in their relationship. They’d loved each other; that much I knew. They’d gone against both sides of their family to be together.
I’d once made Sebastian an offer. If there came a day when he was unable, for whatever reason, to feed via a donor, he’d come to me. That offer still stood.
And it stood out of fear. Sebastian and I had yet to go all the way. Whenever things reached the edge, he pulled back, and I knew he was afraid, afraid if he lost himself he'd give in to the urge and sink his teeth into my skin. He'd done it once and only once. And I couldn't help but think about it and, in my deepest thoughts, fantasize about it. There were times I wanted him to lose control, wanted to know I could do that to him, to push him over the edge. Times I wanted to ask him to do what we both really wanted.
But then, I was afraid, too.
Afraid of what that would mean for us. Hell, just dating these last few months was new territory. Neither one of us had been in a longer relationship, and we were afraid of messing up.
“I wanted to give you something,” he said, dragging me from my thoughts.
“Egypt is a long way,” I blurted. “Take Dub with you. He wants to go, to see the desert. He'd never admit it, but I think he misses Henri already.”
One black eyebrow rose. “You think I need help?”
I rolled my eyes, released him, and went to my dresser for a change of clothes. My chest ached. I didn’t know what I was saying. Archer was gone, my emotions were all over the place, I was worried about Sebastian...
As I turned to locate my backpack, Sebastian took the clothes from my hands and set them on the dresser. I drew in a deep breath and looked at him.
His hand came up. His palm was warm and rough as it slid past my cheek and around my neck to sink into my hair. “I love your hair.” His voice was deep and husky. A zing of anticipation rippled through me and my pulse kicked up a notch as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against mine.
Soft. Slow. Warm.
Sexy as hell.
And hurting. We were both hurting. And needing each other.
He withdrew a fraction, resting his forehead against mine with a shaky breath. “I was going to wait until later... Tonight, when Archer was asleep.”
My chest went tight.
Archer.
“Archer will be okay,” he said, but I could hear the worry in his voice, the edge, the uncertainty.
“He will. He'll be okay,” I echoed the words, willing them to be true. “If the Front has him, they're treating him like a king.”
We just had to get him back before they corrupted him was all.
But if Simon had him, I wasn't so sure. Simon wanted revenge. He’d want m
e to know Archer was in his grasp, to torture me with the knowledge for a while.
God, this was a mess.
My eyes closed. “I can't believe we lost him.”
“Hey.” He wiped the wet corner of my eye with his thumb and then reached into his pocket. “Here. This is for you.” He opened his hand, revealing a medallion and a silver ring with worn Greek inscriptions running along its length. “I found them in the debris, when we were salvaging things for Violet.”
I stared at the ring and medallion in shock, never expecting to see them again. I assumed they’d melted, burned along with my mother’s and grandmother's letter in the fire of our old house.
“...had them cleaned,” he was saying. “Added the chain, so you could wear the medallion if you wanted.”
I couldn’t speak. I tried, but was unable to put my response into words.
After a very long moment, Sebastian lowered his head. “Hey.”
I let out a small laugh, touched beyond words obviously. “I don't know what to say. I never thought... I mean, I looked for them, hoping... I can't believe you found them.” I took the ring and slid it onto my finger. Sebastian lifted the medallion and placed the chain over my head. I picked it up, looking at its near-faded surface. “I always wondered if this was my father's, if he gave this ring to her.”
“Now you can ask him.”
I shook my head in disbelief. As I stared at Sebastian, I realized he was completely uncomfortable, maybe a little embarrassed by his gesture. My heart swelled. I slipped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Thank you. This means so much to me.” It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me.
I leaned back, fixed on his silvery eyes, and waved my ring in his face. “Does this mean we’re a thing now?”
“Smart ass.” He kissed me quickly. “We’ve always been a thing. From the first moment I saw you and didn’t like you, we were a thing.”
I laughed against his mouth and squeezed his butt. He arched one black eyebrow. Then, he grabbed my shoulders, spun me around, swatted my rear, and told me to finish packing.
He walked around the room as I threw essentials into a backpack, adding knives to each boot and a couple extra clips for my 9mm. He paused at the window and stared out, his profile somber.
I stifled a yawn, reminded once again how tired I was.
“You all right?” Sebastian was looking at me with concern.
“Yeah. Just a little tired.” More than tired, honestly. The anticipation of Archer’s arrival and my recurring dreams had kept me up most of the night. I shoved the images of eerie stone eyes and frozen screams out of my mind and zipped up my pack.
SIX
Mount Olympus
VILE THINGS, HUMANS.
Viler still, those who went from insignificant nothing humans to something more, something that should only be reserved for the gods. What a travesty, a horror, an utter stupidity of the gods to give any gift to mankind. Much less immortality.
And, worse, power.
How . . . undeserving.
It made her blood boil. Just boil.
She let out a frustrated groan. It was her time now. No one else's. No god, no monster, no human. It was her time! Hers, hers, hers!
She’d served long enough.
And, damn it, where was her wine? Couldn’t anyone service her correctly? As befitting a goddess? As befitting her station and her birth. Did she have to do everything herself?
She drummed her fingers on the arms of her throne. They should be more afraid of her.
Finally, her wine arrived.
“Give it to me, you idiot.” She sat forward and snatched the goblet from the gold tray, then sat back and sipped slowly, staring daggers at the back of the stupid servant, wanting to kill the dumb thing, wanting to push her down to the marble tile and stomp her until her ribs cracked and her organs burst.
They should definitely be more afraid of her.
But now was not the time to claim what was rightfully hers. A little longer the charade must be played. And then... A smile curved her perfect pink lips. Then, the mountain would tremble. The human realm would weep. And Tartarus would eagerly throw open its gates to reap her cleansing.
“It's done, m'lady,” a deep, unimpressed voice said from across the room.
Her heart gave a fright, but she bit her tongue before letting slip her surprise. He was leaning against one of the columns, his arms over his chest and a savage light in his eyes. A smirk lingered, just a shadow at the corners of his mouth.
His was the only smirk she’d ever encountered that inspired fear.
Now here was a being whose very name sobered even the gods and demanded respect, a respect he obviously did not show her since his m'lady was said with sarcasm, belittling her at every turn, every chance he could get. She'd insisted on the title. And why not? She deserved it.
Clearly, however, he did not see it that way.
“Apollo is dead?”
His black fathomless eyes narrowed. “Wishing he was. He'll stay down long enough.”
She would've rather seen him dead, but held her tongue. It was no small feat to slay a god, after all. “And Artemis and Horus?”
“They'll stay out of your hair and in Egypt.”
“The child?”
“Got rid of him, like you wanted.”
“Good. The last thing we need is for that infant to live.”
He shrugged as if he could care less, and she supposed he couldn't. He pushed away from the wall, turned his back on her, and strode away.
Turned his back.
Anger burned through her at the slight. She shot to her feet, ready to demand his courtesy and respect, but he stopped and glanced over his shoulder, sensing her outrage, his visage growing dark, so dark it froze her, mouth parted.
“Don't,” he said softly.
One word was all it took for an icy tremble to snake through her body and stark fear to choke her throat.
Then, he walked away.
He hadn't needed to say more. Hadn't needed to tell her she wasn't yet in control.
And probably never would be where he was concerned.
With him gone, her outrage came flaring back with a vengeance. She flung her wine goblet against the marble wall with a scream. Burgundy splattered over the gleaming white. Her eyes landed on that stupid servant, quiet and waiting against the wall.
And she did what she'd desired only moments before. She took her anger out--at least the servant was good for something after all.
SEVEN
BACK AT MICHEL’S, Sebastian and I separated. He went to his room to prepare for his trip to Egypt and I went to check on Jenna. She was curled in a chair by the window overlooking Royal Street. The ghost of a smile crossed her face at my entrance. Shadows lurked under her eyes.
“Brought you some clothes and stuff.” I dropped the extra bag on the dresser nearby before sitting on the corner of the mattress. “How are you feeling?”
“Got a freaking hum in my head that won't go away. Feel like I'm gonna puke every ten minutes... So, you know, awesome.” She shifted in the chair. “And then there’s the fact that everyone knows I went through puberty. Gah. Who came up with that word anyway?” She shuddered, her voice going softer. “So embarrassing.”
She pulled her legs farther under her. “Could be worse. I’m not out there. In the ruins. On the streets. Her expression was troubled, sad, and pretty much all over the place. “I know he’s not my brother, you know? Bastian. I know I lost mine in the ruins. I know Bas saved me.” She shrugged like it was no big deal and went back to staring out the window. “I lied to myself for a long time.”
Disappointed in herself, she sighed.
Jenna had absolutely nothing to be disappointed about. Long before I’d shown up in New 2, Sebastian had found Jenna in the ruins--the one place in New 2 where the nightmares were allowed to run free. The loups-garous, turnskins, revenants... They stayed within the boundaries of the ruined Midtown busin
ess district and they were left alone. If their numbers grew too great or they ventured beyond their boundary, the Novem sent hunters in to cull the herd.
From what little I knew, Jenna and her brother had gotten lost in the ruins. He’d been torn apart. And when Sebastian found her, huddled near his remains, in shock, she’d thought her brother had come back for her.
In her state of mind, there was no doubt she’d believed Sebastian was her brother saving her from an unimaginable hell. They were similar in height, had the same dark hair... But later, she’d known the truth. She just hadn’t been able to face it, hadn’t wanted to admit it, because doing so meant admitting her brother was gone.
“Hey. You were a kid. In a horrific situation. It was the way you coped, and it didn’t hurt anyone. You didn’t do anything wrong, Jen. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” She didn’t look at me. “Okay?”
She finally met my gaze and gave me a faint nod. “Okay.”
At first I was surprised by the conversation--it wasn't something she liked to talk about. But then I understood that the whole puberty thing, the whole idea of becoming an adult, meant she was thinking about moving on, dealing with her past, and growing up a little.
“You bring my other set of overalls?” she asked.
“Yeah, they’re in the bag. Brought your make-up, too.” I was glad she hadn't given up the overalls or her penchant for getting her hands dirty. She was our fixer, our engineer of the abandoned and run down Garden District mansion we'd claimed, fixing the appliances, plumbing, and wiring...
I was the oldest girl in our little family unit. She looked up to me, and I had no experience in giving good advice or guiding her or the others. I just went with what felt right. I wanted Jenna to be herself, not give up the things that she loved just because of some preconceived notion she had to be a certain way. And I wanted her to be happy, not hurting as she was right now.
“Where’s Bastian?” she asked.
“Getting ready to go to Egypt. He said he’d come by in a few.”
