Bug-eyed, Xirena shrugged.
Simi’s watch tingled, letting her know it was time. She had less than one minute to free the goddess. Using her wings, she hovered and placed the sacred anti-aima to the goddess’s lips. When her akri had been frozen that time in New Orleans, she and akra-Kat had used this to free him, so she was hoping it would work on Styxx’s akra, too.
Hmmm.…
Another rumble went through the room. Something akin to a dark shadow shot out and flew past Simi’s head.
Suddenly the other bitch-goddess Xirena didn’t like opened her eyes. And so did Archon …
Uh-oh.
Simi ran to her sister. “Go get help. The Simi will hold them off!”
“Don’t be a stupid Charonte!” Xirena grabbed her arm and hauled her upstairs.
Alexion was just walking back from the kitchen when he almost collided with two screaming Charonte.
“They’s alive!” Shrieking, they jumped up and down, around him.
“Who’s alive?”
“Them gods in the basement bottom!”
Alexion had no idea what they were talking about. But suddenly the floor beneath his feet rumbled and shook. The glass rattled in the panes.
Danger appeared at his side. “What did you do?”
He gave his wife a blank stare. “Why do I get the blame?”
“I know I didn’t do it, Alexei, so that clears me.” Hands on hips, she tapped her foot in irritation.
He pointed to the demons.
Simi grinned nervously.
“Them gods alive!” Xirena repeated between clenched teeth.
Well, that didn’t sound good. Especially combined with Richter scale activity going on under their feet.
“I think the demons woke something that was sleeping in the basement. Any idea what Ash might have hidden down there?”
Simi glared at him. “It’s not the book dragon. She’s sleeping on her island! I told you, it’s them unquality Atlantean gods!”
Cursing under his breath, he nodded. “Sim, go to Apollymi and tell her what’s happened. Xirena, find Acheron and tell him that we need him immediately.”
Danger staggered as the floor buckled again. “What’s down there?”
“Acheron’s relatives.”
“Pardon?”
Alexion turned pale. “Remember when you asked me what happened to all the Atlantean gods?”
“Yeah.”
Alexion sighed. “Apparently, they’re all downstairs … turned to stone by Apollymi, which is the part I knew. I just wasn’t sure of their exact location.”
Xirena pointed to her sister. “Now set free by Xiamara.”
Oh yeah … this was bad indeed. Alexion knew he had to do something. Fast.
“Where are you going?” Danger called as he started to leave.
Alexion gave her a droll stare. “To get Savitar. We’re going to need all hands on deck for this disaster.”
She frowned. “Well, how many gods are down there?”
“About a hundred.”
“Great,” Danger said with a hysterical note in her voice. “Love your calm demeanor, hon. And it’s a good thing I’m already a ghost.” ’Cause their chances of living through this?
About as good as surviving a brunch where you cut in front of a Charonte in the all-you-can-eat barbecue line.
“Yeah, yeah. Just call Urian in Minnesota!”
December 23, 2012
Savitar paused as he watched Styxx, silhouetted by the setting sun, on top of a small dune. He’d stripped down to nothing but his loose pants and boots while he played Frisbee with his dog. Over and over, Styxx would laughingly take the Frisbee, praise the animal, then wait for the dog to run out again so that he could toss it for the dog to jump, catch it, and return.
It was the first time he’d ever seen Styxx at ease. Unguarded. For that matter, it was the only time he’d known the prince to play.
Or laugh.
And as he watched Styxx with the dog, he didn’t see the feral military commander who’d terrified a pantheon and nation, or the rigid prince who had to ooze decorum at all times. He didn’t even see a man. He saw the boy who had never been given a chance to live. One who’d been cut down in his youth and deprived of a normal, mortal life.
Because of the way Styxx and Acheron acted, the maturity, responsibility, and pain they held that went far beyond their years, it was easy to forget how young they’d been when they died. But Savitar saw it now.
And the injustice of it burned inside his heart.
I have no right to ask this of him.
None of them did. Guilt gutted him as he felt for the childhood and life Styxx would have had, had the gods not interfered. Styxx would have been that beloved, cherished prince that everyone thought he was. His destiny would have been something else entirely.
And Styxx would have been a Chthonian …
To save and protect Acheron from those who hunted him and wanted him dead as a child, they all had taken a turn at ruining Styxx.
Savitar knew he should go and leave the boy in peace. Styxx wanted only to be alone, and he’d certainly earned the right to it.
But he couldn’t. Acheron was too important to the world.
Most of all, he was too important to Savitar personally.
Savitar waited until Styxx had poured water into a bowl for the dog before he appeared beside him.
Faster than he could blink, Styxx had a knife in one hand and a gun in the other. Both angled at Savitar’s head.
“Impressive.” Savitar hadn’t even known Styxx was armed.
Gone was any hint of the boy who’d been playing with his dog just moments before. This was the rigid general who had led armies and fought gods and gladiators in an arena with such strength and cunning that his enemies had been forced to resort to tricks and traps to defeat him.
As the old saying went, never say “why me.” Rather say, “try me.” That was Styxx in a nutshell.
Styxx glared his hatred. “What do you want?”
“You to point those somewhere else.”
He lowered them to Savitar’s groin.
“Cute.”
Smirking, Styxx tucked the gun into the holster at his back and returned the knife to the sheath on his forearm. “Whatever it is you want, it has nothing to do with me.”
“Some of the Atlantean gods have returned.”
“As I said, it has nothing to do with me.”
“They want vengeance.”
Styxx bent down to pull his water out from under his aba. “So?”
“On Acheron.”
Styxx took a swig of his bottled water before he capped it. “Nothing to do with me.”
“So that’s it, then? You’re just going to let your brother die? And he will.… There’s no way for him to survive this.”
Styxx swallowed the pain inside him. “Are you deaf? The gods know, Acheron has said it enough. I don’t have a brother.”
“The world as you know it will end.”
He laughed at that. “The world as I knew it ended the moment my wife and son were killed. And anything remotely related to the life I once lived ended while I was held prisoner for over eleven thousand years. I know nothing of this place and I have no dog in this fight. It has nothing to do with me,” he repeated. He headed toward his horse and camel.
“Tory’s pregnant again.”
Styxx froze as those words cut him to the quick. “Good for her … and Acheron.”
“Are you really going to condemn an innocent woman and her two children to live without their husband and father?”
“That’s not fair!” he growled, glowering at the Chthonian he wanted to shoot.
“Life, like war, isn’t fair. It just is. Isn’t that what Galen taught you?”
Styxx winced at the reminder of all he’d lost … because of his brother and the gods he’d hated since the moment of his birth. “You’re not helping your case by reminding me of Apollo’s treachery, Chthonian.
“Fine, then. Stay here in your desert. At least you’ll have the comfort of knowing Acheron’s widow and orphaned children will be able to commiserate with your pain.”
Whirling about in fury, Styxx threw the water bottle at him.
Savitar ducked. Had it hit him, it would have counted. “I hate all of you!” Styxx growled deep in his throat. A throat that was still damaged because of Acheron and the gods who could never leave him alone.
Damn it all …
No, damn them all.
None of them had ever taken pity on him. He was thrown aside and forgotten like garbage.
Until they needed him.
All he’d ever wanted was a family. One person who treated him like he mattered to them. And all he’d gotten was disappointment.
From all of them. It’d taken him centuries to come to terms with that one single fact.
What the fuck does it matter? Really? He didn’t have a life. He never had.
And he damn sure didn’t have his wife or his child …
Never mind two kids.
Go ahead and die already. There was no one to mourn his passing.
Angry, hurt, and aching over a fact he’d never been able to change, Styxx pulled his aba on, then jerked his backpack up from the ground. His breathing ragged, he glared his hatred at Savitar. “Can you make sure my animals and gear go to someone who needs them and that my dog doesn’t get eaten by his new caretaker?”
Savitar was stunned. “You agree?”
Styxx averted his gaze as a thousand emotions pile-drived him to the point where he didn’t really know what he felt. Other than hurt and alone.
But that was nothing new for him.
He met Savitar’s stoic lavender gaze. “I’ve never been quite the bastard all of you labeled me. You knew I couldn’t let him die, otherwise you wouldn’t have come here.”
“Thank you, Styxx.”
“For what?”
“Being the man I knew you were.”
“Go fuck yourself, Savitar. Just take me wherever I need to go and stop with the sentimental bullshit you don’t mean before I give in to my desire to punch the shit out of you.”
Urian stood beside Davyn, listening to Sin and Katra review their plans for fighting against the Atlantean gods. It was all well and good, except for one thing.
“Am I reading this wrong? Or in every play does Styxx end up dead?”
Acheron sighed. “I know. I’m trying, Urian. I don’t want him dead, either, but I can’t think of anything else. Really, I’m open to any suggestion. I guess if there’s any consolation, it is what Styxx wants.”
Well, he was glad his boss was feeling so cavalier about his brother’s life. However …
“Not really what I want for him, seeing how he’s my best friend.”
“Excuse me?” Davyn gave him an offended glare.
“You’re my brother. Shut up.” Urian kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair.
“Rather be a friend. Your friends, you don’t abuse.”
“Stop your whining.”
Ash rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I agree with you, Urian. I’d really rather not do Styxx any more harm either. I’ve racked my brains every which I can, but—”
“I think I know the problem.”
Ash arched a brow at Urian. “Please illuminate me.”
“We’re missing our star quarterback.”
Wait!” Urian shouted as he teleported in and saw that Savitar was about to haul Styxx off to fight. Damn, that was close. Another few seconds, and it would have been too late to stop them.
Panting from his mad dash to get there with Davyn in tow, he doubled over to catch his breath.
Savitar growled. “We don’t have time for this.”
Urian snorted nonchalantly. “Take it up with the bossman. He’s the one who sent me in with a time-out. Acheron has called a team huddle before we make our final play.”
Shaking his head, Savitar let out an exasperated sigh. “Remind me to cancel your ESPN subscription …” He glanced to Styxx with an odd glimmer in his lavender eyes. “Fine.”
The next thing Urian knew, the four of them were back on Savitar’s island with Acheron and Tory, who was feeding crackers to their son. Danger and Alexion were trying to ride herd on Simi and Xirena as they plotted to take Bas’s crackers. And Katra and Sin finished off their cozy little End of the World club.
“They’re not going to wait all day on us,” Savitar warned Acheron. “You know the gods are marching and not waiting.”
“I know, but as I was reviewing the situation with everyone and trying to come up with an alternate plan that didn’t cost Styxx his life, Urian reminded me that we were missing a most vital member of the team.” Acheron pinned his gaze on Styxx. “The quarterback who actually went up against the Atlantean gods and beat the shit out of them.”
Styxx scowled as all heads turned to him. “Since no one has bothered to tell me what I’m heading into, I’ve got nothing.”
Ash looked at Simi, who blushed and grinned sheepishly.
“Well, see, akri-Styxx, it all started when the Simi decided she was gonna give you the promise for your birthday for Christmas. See?”
“Clear as a two-hundred-mile-an-hour sandstorm.”
Ash gave a low, sinister laugh. “Simi decided to wake up the Atlantean gods for you. Wasn’t that considerate?”
Urian bit back a laugh. Ash better be glad Simi was slow to catch that sarcasm or else akri or not, he could have ended up as Charonte barbecue.
Styxx frowned. “Why?”
With an adorable pout, Simi sighed heavily. “Well yous sees, it wan’t s’pposed to be all them gods. Is only s’pposed to be the one. But she won’t get up. Lots of them others gots up and gots ugly, fast. And I means theys as ugly as a gullu in the morning with no barbecue sauce. And the Simi still don’t know why’s the only one I tries to wakes keeps sleeping when it’s so important she gets ups and talks. It’s so confusing.”
Yes, yes, it was. And she was there when it happened.
Sin turned to Savitar. “Hey, I have two gods and a demigod requesting permission to enter your home and join our powwow.”
Yeah, there was a look on the mighty Savitar’s face that said the Sumerian god was about to end up on his menu. “Who?”
“My brother, Seth, and your least favorite god of all time.”
“Noir?”
“Second least favorite,” Sin quickly amended.
Savitar growled low and deep in his stomach—like he was about to give birth to a space alien. “I thought that bastard was dead.”
“Apparently not.”
A tic started in Savitar’s jaw. “Why?”
“Why is he not dead?” Urian asked sarcastically.
Savitar glared at him. “Why are they here?”
Ignoring Urian’s question, Sin shrugged. “They say they can help with this.”
Hands on his hips, Savitar glared at Acheron and then Kat. “Apollymi owes me. Big. And so do you.” Then he looked back at Sin and gave a curt nod.
Urian heard Davyn gasp as he saw Zakar, Sin’s twin brother, appear next to him. But at least they were easy to tell apart since Zakar had longer hair.
The Egyptian god Set had always been a peculiar beast, far different from the rest of his pantheon. One thing being, his dark red hair. Which made sense, Urian supposed, as red was the color that represented evil for them, and Set was the god of evil, darkness, and chaos.
All that bad shit, really.
Tall and muscular, he had an aura of power around him that set Urian’s nerves on edge.
Yet the oddest part was when Zakar nudged Set to look at Styxx. “Now there’s a photo-op expression if ever there was one.”
Urian glanced to the baffled look on Styxx’s face.
They weren’t wrong.
For whatever reason, Set and Zakar transformed into an odd-looking couple, then quickly returned to their immortal appearances.
Okay, then …
Obviously there was some weird inside joke the rest of them weren’t in on.
Set glanced around at them. “Over four thousand years ago, Apollo and his whore mother used my son Seth”—he indicated the red-haired man at his side who had a mop of curls—“to trap me in the desert without his knowledge of what was being done to him and why, and restricted my powers so that the Greeks could take over my pantheon and hand my son over to my bitterest enemy.”
Ah …
Damn, his grandfather just screwed over everyone he came into contact with. Urian passed a disgusted sneer to Davyn. Really, was there any person who didn’t want to jack-slap Apollo into oblivion at this point?
Set clapped his hand on Styxx’s shoulder. “But for Styxx, I’d still be there, chained in the desert, fighting off vultures.” He glanced to his son and his gaze softened instantly. “And my son would still be hating me for something I tried my best to spare him.”
Styxx’s scowl deepened. “Why didn’t you tell me it was you when I freed you?”
“You were in enough pain over Bet. I didn’t want to make it worse on you when I didn’t think I could do anything to fix it or help you. After you did me such a massive favor, the last thing I wanted was to repay you with more pain.”
Set inclined his head to Sin’s brother. “Zakar and I were allies back in the day, which was why I had you take me to his place to recuperate. Since you left, we’ve been trying to find a way to revive my daughter without awakening the other Atlanteans. Ironic as hell that they woke up and she didn’t.”
Styxx scowled. “But Bethany was Egyptian, not Atlantean.”
“From me, yes. Her mother’s Symfora.”
Bug-eyed, Urian exchanged a gaping stare with Davyn at a name they both knew. Symfora was the Atlantean goddess of death, sorrow, and woe.
Styxx let out a long tired breath. “Bethany’s Bet’anya Agriosa?”
Set nodded. “For an obvious reason, she was scared to tell you the truth.”
“I wouldn’t have cared.”
“Good. Because if you want her back, you’re going to have to bleed Apollo and battle the worst of the Atlantean gods for her.”
“And you’re not going to fight without us.” Maahes and Ma’at flashed into the room, next to Savitar. Called the lord of the massacre, Maahes was the protector of innocents. A massively muscled brute, he had a lot in common with Urian’s brother Archie, except he was much better tempered. And his huge size was a bitter contrast to Ma’at’s exceptionally tiny stature. The goddess of justice and truth barely came up to their waists.
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