Demigods and Monsters (The Sphinx Book 2)

by Raye Wagner

  Three Xans wielded broadswords with both hands, swinging at three of the monster, Briareus. She blinked repeatedly, and the six figures congealed into two.

  Braireus roared. His war cry from dozens of heads filled the air with a putrid stench.

  Her stomach clenched, and she backed away from the fray.

  Xan jabbed, pushing Braireus back. Braireus lunged. Xan ducked under the swinging arms and sliced into the monster’s body. Briareus bellowed with his injuries but continued his flailing assault. Back and forth, again and again. But Briareus was slowing. Fewer assaults, more defense.

  Then Xan brought the sword back for what Hope knew would be a fatal blow. As the sword whistled through the air, Briareus moved to the left. Two of his arms grabbed Hope from the ground, swinging her in front of the moving broadsword.

  Hope cringed, and her eyes closed in anticipation.

  “Let her go, Briareus.” Xan’s voice was commanding, cruel.

  Hope opened her eyes to find the sword poised at her neck, only a hair’s breadth away.

  “Will you let me go?” Briareus rasped.

  “If you let her go, I’ll not kill you.”

  “Swear to me. Swear to me that you will not kill me.”

  “I promise in the name of my father that I will not kill you for this.”

  Briareus dropped Hope to the ground.

  She landed on her side, and pain shot stars through her eyes. She clenched her teeth and scooted to Xan’s side.

  “You okay?” Xan asked, his voice soft, but his eyes and sword remained trained on the monster before them.

  Hope attempted a nod, and the disjointed movement sent shooting pain through her head.

  “Hope? Are you okay?” Panic laced through the words, but his gaze remained fixed on the threat.

  “Yeah.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper. She forced a swallow in her dry mouth.

  “Good. Go get . . .” His eyes shifted to her for only a second before returning to Briareus. “Never mind. Stay back so you don’t get in the way.”

  Hope was happy to comply. Still on her hands and knees, she pushed past the arms and books on the floor and scooted up against a bookshelf. Surely, this was far enough.

  “Briareus. You have violated your agreement.” Xan’s authoritative voice spoke of consequences to come. “By such, you are to be banished.”

  “No. No, sir. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have hurt her, not really. I’m sorry. I lost control for a moment. But I promise . . .” He began to weep, tears streaming from the eyes on several of his heads, his noses running. “Please, sir, please.”

  It was grotesque to behold.

  “Briareus, you wrote the contract with Zeus. I cannot change or modify it.” Xan let out a long exhale. “I’ll send you to Olympus. You may discuss it with him there. Turn around.” Xan pointed the broadsword at the monster’s belly.

  Briareus twisted, facing the dark recesses of the library. The fleshy stumps of his arms oozed, dripping blood to the floor.

  Xan glanced at Hope. “You stay there. I’ll be right back.”

  He took two steps, his sword pointed at Briareus’s back, then stopped. Without turning his head, he said, “Don’t worry. There is nothing else in the library, no one else that would hurt you.”

  Nothing else? The thought of anything else brought fear bubbling to the surface. She pulled her knees to her chest, put her elbows on her knees, and dropped her head in her hands. If Xan hadn’t come, she’d be dead. How could she have been so stupid?

  A bright light flashed from behind the shelves. Hope flinched and closed her eyes.

  “Bloody hell. I get you off the street, safe from Skia, and one of our own attacks you.” Xan cleared his throat. “Tosser. What kind of protector am I?” He sat down next to her on the floor and tapped his knee against hers. “Are you okay? Really?”

  Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. She would be strong. “Yes.”

  If he heard the quiver in her voice, he ignored it. “Well, I’m glad for that.” He scooted closer until their shoulders touched. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot that today was Briareus’s day in the library. He’s usually only in once or twice a month. I should’ve checked.”

  She forced another swallow. “I’m okay.” She took a deep breath. Her heart rate was returning to normal, and her shaking had almost stopped. She released another shudder. Using the bookshelf behind her for support, she stood up. “Really, I’m okay.”

  Xan stood and took her elbow. “What in the name of all the gods possessed you to follow him into the depths of the library?” He ducked his head to look her in the eye. “He’s a monster, Hope.”

  She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know. I guess I figured if he was here in the house, he could be trusted.”

  What kind of people put enemies in their house?

  “Hope,” reproof hung in his tone, “don’t ever trust monsters. Ever.”

  Right. Of course not. “Hey, where’s your sword?”

  Xan grabbed her sleeve and gave it a tug. “Are you listening? Consider this your first demigod lesson, and the most important. Don’t trust monsters. Ever.”

  “Why not?” she challenged. But there was no strength behind the words as she swayed.

  He held her upright and quirked an eyebrow. “Really? They can kill you. And they will, at any opportunity.” He pointed at the severed arms and black puddles of blood. “Remember two seconds ago?”

  She wanted to roll her eyes, but with her luck she’d end up back on the floor.

  “I got it. Lesson learned,” she muttered.

  “Good. You ready to go?”

  She closed her eyes and willed her stomach to stop roiling. “Yeah.”

  He strode across the room, away from the destruction that littered the floor.

  Hope wanted to follow. In her mind, she’d sweep past him and maybe slam the door in his face. She let go of the bookcase and crumpled to the floor.

  Warm darkness cradled her and smelled faintly of pine. “Are you going to throw up?” a man whispered to her.

  “Throw up?” she croaked. Was it that obvious?

  “Some people puke when they have a big shock. You know, life threatened and all that.” A chuckle rumbled from him through her.

  Hope whimpered with the movement, and yet something inside her knew she was safe. She wanted to burrow into that safety. Cling to it. Never let it go.

  “If you throw up, I’m setting you down.” But there was no bite behind the words, and his arms tightened, cradling her closer.

  She kept her eyes closed and continued to focus on keeping her dinner inside her body. She heard the click of a door, and moments later she was set on a soft bed. Tears leaked through her eyelids, and she choked back a sob.

  The bed dipped next to her, and warmth, and pine, and safety wrapped her up again.

  HER CHUBBY LEGS SWUNG against the warm wood, her feet dangling far above the ground. She turned to her mother.

  “Please? I promise I won’t tell them.” Her eyes begged, and her little heart thrummed with anticipation. All she wanted was to play tag with the other kids.

  “I’m sorry, baby. It’s not safe.” Her mom brushed her hand over Hope’s long blond hair. “How about I push you on the swing?”

  Hope shook her head. “No. I don’t want to swing.”

  “Then how about the slide?”

  The slide was for babies. “No, thank you.”

  “Then what do you want to do?” Her mom slid off the bench and knelt in front of her.

  Their identical golden eyes met, and Hope risked the truth. “I just want to be normal, like the other kids.”

  “Oh, baby.” Her mother frowned. “It’s not possible. The curse . . .”

  Hope knew. She might not understand all the words her mom spoke, but she knew. She would never be normal. She would never have a normal life. Never get married and never have a family. She would never be safe.

  “It’s not fai
r!” She scowled at her mom’s pretty face.

  “Nope. It’s not. But it is what it is, Hope.” Her mom stood up and extended her hand.

  With a sigh, Hope slid from the bench and took her mom’s hand.

  “When I grow up, I’m going to break the curse,” she announced.

  Her mom’s hand tightened around hers. “You are probably clever enough to do it, sweet girl.”

  Hope swung their joined hands. “And then we can play at the playground whenever we want. And have lots of friends.”

  “That sounds lovely.” Her mom smiled.

  Lots of friends to play with sounded nice, so much better than just her and Mom. It would be like Priska coming every day, and more besides.

  Hope jerked to a stop, and her mother swung her up into her arms.

  “We need to go.” Her mom’s voice was quiet and tight. Worried. Scared.

  Hope sat up, and her head swam. She surveyed the unfamiliar room and recognized her bags on the floor. The vision flitted through her mind. Strange. That dream hadn’t come for months. But that wasn’t the end . . . What was the end?

  And what—

  The pounding came again, harder.

  The door.

  The geometric contrasts of the room were draped in shadow, but the harsh angles reminded her of where she was and why.

  She cleared the sleep and dreams from her throat. “Yeah?”

  “It’s Xan. I thought you might want to come down for breakfast.”

  Hope cracked the door.

  He stood in the hall, wearing jeans and a fitted long-sleeve black T-shirt. He was clean shaven, and his dimple made him seem boyish. “Morning, sunshine.”

  “Hey.” Memories from the library came rushing in, and Hope dropped her gaze. Had she leaned on him? Clung to him? By the gods, had she cried last night?

  “Well?” Xan raised his eyebrows. “Breakfast?”

  Her clothes were stained with monster blood, her breath probably smelled, and there was a fair chance her hair could nest an entire flock of birds. “Um, yeah, but,” she paused, “I really need a shower. Can I meet you in a few?”

  “Sure.” He tapped her chin until she met his eyes. “You know the way?”

  She rolled her eyes. The house wasn’t that big. “I can find it.”

  “Great. See you in a bit.” He headed down the stairs.

  Hope closed the door. She went to the window and peered out. The sky was overcast and drizzly. With a grunt, she pulled the curtains shut, blocking out the depressing morning sky. She checked her phone, but apparently Xan was right. No service.

  The shower beat the tension from her shoulders and back, and the scent of grapefruit filled the bathroom. This would work. She was here, and the Olympian library was just down the hall. She could make this work.

  She ran down the stairs to the kitchen, rounded the corner, and crashed into someone’s back. “Oomph.”

  “What the—?”

  Hope’s stomach gave an involuntary lurch. The young man before her looked to be about her age. His golden hair mirrored her own, and his skin was only a couple of shades lighter than hers. Most troubling were his eyes, the color of the sky on a cloudless day. Thin and wiry, he looked like he’d spent too much time in front of a computer. Nevertheless, he was more than handsome, and he smelled of sunshine. She didn’t need to be introduced to know who his father was.

  “I-I’m sorry,” Hope stammered.

  The young man laughed. “Of course you are. But then, I shouldn’t be standing in the doorway, eh?”

  “Ummm . . .” Something was off, but she couldn’t place it. “Yeah. Right.” Her insides wound tight with inexplicable tension. She slid past him and his companion, entered the kitchen, and sought for a familiar face.

  Their eyes met, and Xan waved for her to join him.

  Hope grabbed a banana on her way across the room, and her stomach growled in anticipation.

  “What is it with you guys?” she asked, her mouth still mostly full.

  Xan’s brows drew together, and he held his spoon filled with cereal suspended in the air. “What?”

  “What is it with the other demigods? Everyone is so . . .” She searched for a word that would convey her whole message. Nice, but not.

  Xan shrugged. “It’s the conservatory.”

  “What? You didn’t even know what I was going to say—”

  “There’s no way to explain everyone’s personalities, their eccentricities, or some peoples’ stupidity, so we chalk it up to being at the conservatory.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “It doesn’t have to make sense. If you live here, you get along.” He waved his spoon at her. “You don’t have to like anyone, but you do have to get along. Got it?”

  “Yep.” She wouldn’t be here long enough for it to matter. “What’s the deal with breakfast?” She pointed to the cold cereal and wrinkled her nose.

  “Get whatever you want.” He waved her away with his spoon. “But be sure you clean up after yourself,” he called after her.

  She didn’t need to be told twice. After surveying the contents of the fridge, she layered ham, cheese, and tomato on whole grain bread and put it under the broiler while she put everything away.

  It took another minute to find a plate, and then she pulled out her open-faced breakfast sandwiches. She set the plate down to grab a drink, but when she returned, it was gone—the entire plate, sandwiches and all.

  She spotted the blond boy holding it on the other side of the room. He picked up a sandwich while an exotically dressed girl with sepia-brown skin talked to him, and then he took a bite. Of Hope’s sandwich.

  Hope glanced at Xan as if he could help, but he was facing the opposite direction. Judging by his hand waving, he and Dahlia were in a deep conversation. There were three other people in the room, but none she recognized. Except the blond boy eating her sandwiches.

  With a deep breath, Hope walked across the kitchen to where the young man stood. He and a petite young woman were talking, or, rather, she was talking to him while he took another bite of Hope’s sandwich.

  “Excuse me,” Hope snapped at him.

  “It’s the unobservant newcomer,” he mumbled past the food in his mouth. He glanced at her, and curled his lip up in a sneer.

  “You have my breakfast,” she seethed. She held out her empty hand for the plate. How could someone be so rude?

  “I’m surprised you noticed.” He took another bite, ignoring the outstretched hand.

  Hope gawked at the girl, seeking confirmation that this was really happening.

  The other demigod wore a blank expression.

  Hope turned back to the young man. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  He shook his head, his mouth full. Again. He held the almost-full plate in one hand, the half-eaten sandwich in the other.

  The petite girl reached out and took a slice of apple off the plate. Meeting Hope’s eyes, she took a bite.

  No freaking way! She grabbed the remaining sandwich and crossed the kitchen to Xan.

  “Hey, you got some breakfast?” He pulled a chair out for her.

  Hope nodded but didn’t sit down.

  “Good. You’re going to need your energy.”

  She raised her eyebrows. She had plenty of energy to hit that blond jerk.

  “We’re going to do one of my favorite things.” Xan smirked. “Do you like to spar, Hope?”

  The thought of fighting Xan was a different story. “I used to take martial arts, but it’s been a while.”

  “Well, we’ll brush up on your skills.”

  Dahlia rolled her eyes at her cousin. “I swear you have a one track mind.”

  Hope glared over at the other side of the room but kept her eyes away from the blond boy, instead focusing on a cluster of framed roosters.

  “I would love to hit something.” She probably already would have if Xan hadn’t warned her to get along.

  Xan frowned. “Ten minutes ago, you were saying h
ow overly nice everyone is.”

  “That was ten minutes ago.”

  He followed her gaze.

  “Ten minutes can change that much for you?” He tilted his head as if trying to puzzle her out.

  Dahlia laughed.

  “Yeah.” Hope gritted her teeth. “It can change a lot.”

  “Fair enough.” Xan stood up and took his bowl to the sink.

  “Did you see who she spent that time with?” Dahlia called after him.

  Hope glanced up. The blond boy and his companion were both watching Xan.

  Xan’s gaze went from Dahlia to Hope and then to the blond boy, eyes widening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  It wouldn’t do her any good. She needed allies, or at least neutral parties. “No. Thanks,” she said. “Are you ready to go?”

  “You’re not done eating.” He pointed to her sandwich.

  “I’ll eat on the way. I’m kinda done in here.” She shifted her weight. Better to remove herself than to tempt fate.

  “Got it. Dahlia, do you want to come?”

  Dahlia bobbed a shoulder, her dark curls bouncing slightly with the movement. “Sure, why not? I don’t have anything pressing right now.” She pushed her chair back from the table. “Let me call Max. I’ll meet you in the gym. You going to be on the mats?”

  “Yeah. I’ll see her stand-up game. Then we can go from there.”

  “I’ll join you in a bit.” Dahlia pointed to Hope. “You might want to change your clothes. You’re going to be dripping sweat.”

  They walked past the blond jerk and his friend, into the open halls stopping at the foot of the stairs.

  “See ya, Dahl.” Xan dismissed his cousin with a wave.

  “Ciao.” Dahlia took the stairs two at a time.

  Xan grabbed Hope’s sleeve and held her back.

  “What happened in the kitchen? What got you bent out of shape?” His cold blue eyes met her gold ones.

  Hope shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s . . . stupid. That blond boy took my sandwiches when I went to get a glass of water.”

  Xan snorted. “Endy. Total wanker. He joined us a few years ago. His mom was trying to raise him. . . ” His lip curled with disgust. “But he’s here now. Complete tosser if you ask me. You should’ve hit him.”