Greek Fire

by S Lawrence

  Looking around, I sigh at the beauty of this place. The house is situated on a hilltop, only the single lane road going to the top. The sea surrounds us on three sides and it is a gorgeous blue, shining like a sapphire. We all get out, and I glance at Sean and Michael, who are yelling at Jason about trying to kill them.

  The house reminds me of pictures of Greece, white stone or stucco with a brilliant blue door and shutters. It is hard to tell the size of it from the front. We are all looking around when the doors open, and a couple comes out. There is joy written all over them when they see Jason, and his face softens as he moves forward to them.

  The woman is beautiful like my grandmother, timeless. The man reminds me of Hollywood actors that become more handsome as they grow older. She moves to Jason and pulls him into her arms, squeezing him, and to our shock, he curls around her hugging her back. They speak in Greek, and I only recognize one word. Mitéra… Mother. My eyes widen, and I look at Kai and mouth 'Mother?' He shrugs, looking at the others. Jason and the woman finally break apart, but she holds onto him like she is afraid he will disappear. The man steps forward, pulling him close, and kisses him on the cheeks before releasing him and looking over at us.

  "Yiós, introduce us to your friends," his voice booms, full of happiness.

  * * *

  I cringe mentally at him calling me son, hoping none of them speak Greek, before turning to face those that are staring at us in wonder. I see the questions on their faces, questions I don't plan on answering. “Aislin, Kai, Sean, Michael, this is Damia," I say and pull her forward. "And this is Gregor, her husband." I wave my hand at him.

  The hurt rings in her voice as Damia speaks. "Welcome. It is a pleasure to meet you all."

  Aislin is glaring at me as she moves forward. Pulling Damia to her, she hugs her. "It is so wonderful for you to welcome us here. Your home is beautiful."

  Damia's face colors, "No. No. It is Jason's home."

  "Well, I figure it is yours also since I know for a fact he is never here." Aislin smiles brightly at her, before turning to Gregor. "Hello, Mr. Gregor. So very nice to meet you also." Her southern accent is strong, and he smiles at it and her. The truth echoes in her voice; she is very happy to meet these people that are so important to me. I take advantage of Damia's distraction and move back to where the others are standing, but Gregor follows after a moment.

  10

  AISLIN

  Damia latches onto me, "Let them go speak of war." Startled, I look at her face and she sighs, "I'm no stupid old woman. It must be something very bad to bring him back after all this time." She waves her hand and shakes her head as I draw a breath to speak. "No. You do not need to tell me. He will in his own time. Let us go inside, and I will show you the garden and the house." I nod yes and look back at Kai. I know he heard when he gives me a wink. She pulls me forward and stops before the gorgeous carved wooden doors. Pushing them open, she glances at me as I take my first look in.

  Years of living in the Garden District and in the Saint Charles house leave me often unimpressed by homes. The opulence and Reconstruction-era craftsmanship in them make newer homes pale in comparison, but this is amazing. I stand gaping before looking back at Jason. Turning my eyes back to the inside of the home, I grin. Yes, this is totally where I could see this man living.

  The doors open to a small entrance, which was nothing special, but it was what was on the other side that took my breath. There, across a gleaming wood floor, was a glorious garden. In the center stands a fountain with water bubbling. The house makes a square around the garden, and at each corner, there stands a pillar, well really a ruin of some ancient pillar. There was only what I imagine to be one-third of the original left. Beautiful flowers fill the air with rich aromas. Chaise loungers are scattered throughout the garden. Damia is looking at me, pride stamped on her face. I grin at her before stepping onto the walkway. I can't help standing and turning my face up to the sun, turning in a circle I let it all wash over me. Even I can feel the magic of this place. I stop and turn to face the door, seeing Jason watching me. I can tell he is unsure about us being here, which saddens me. Smiling at him, I turn to Damia and ask, "He's never brought anyone here?"

  Walking to me, she links her arm with mine, leading me to the fountain. "No, he is always alone for as long as my family has been here," tears clogged her throat and I pat her hand before leaning close.

  I smile at her slyly. "He calls me Kukla, and for me, he is family. I hope to fix his loneliness," I whisper into her ear as quietly as I can, hoping certain supernatural folks don't overhear me. I'm rewarded with a wink before she starts talking about the flowers surrounding us.

  After my tour, Damia shows me to our room. Kai is looking out the window at the sea. Crossing, I press into his back, circling my arms around his waist. "Isn't it beautiful here? Emma and I talked about vacationing in Greece for years but never got around to it." Tears fill my eyes and my fingers clutch at him. He turns and hugs me tighter.

  His voice is thick as he whispers to me, "We will find her." Conviction rings in those words and I grab onto them, holding them to me like a shield against the desperation I feel. We stand for a long time just holding each other before a knock sounds at the door.

  11

  JASON

  I stand beside the fountain staring at the water. I don't know why I brought them here. I could have rented a place for them to stay. Aislin says Emma is like a dog with a bone. Well, so is she. She is going to pick and pick and pick until she finds the answers she wants. She thinks I didn't catch her whisper to Damia. Fix me indeed; I don't need fixing. I don't need them digging into my life. The sound of light footsteps draws my attention. Looking up, I see Damia standing on the other side of the fountain.

  "I'm glad you returned," she smiles.

  "I can't stay here after. You know why. As soon as we save the girl, I'm leaving." My tone is harsher than I intend and I move to her side. Grasping her hands, I soften my voice, "You know why."

  Her hand is soft on my cheek as she smiles up at me, "What is this girl to you? Why not leave her to the others? You can stay here with us for a while."

  There is something in her words, but the thought of not saving Emma forces me to speak before I process it. "I must save her! She is good and light. She is important." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret it because she is now smiling and I realize I ran headlong into her trap. "Stay out of it, Damia, I mean it. I'm not savable, and I refuse to put her in danger. I can't be trusted." Even I can hear the longing in my voice. Turning, I stomp away like a petulant child, which angers me even more.

  12

  She watches him go. Damia stands looking after him long after he is gone from her sight. Her decision weighs heavily on her heart. It is a betrayal, this thing she must do. She tells herself it is for his own good. Her whole life she watched, she grew up as he grew more and more distant. Now, all these years later, she is an old woman, and he finally found something to fight for. She likes these people he brought with him. The girl looks at him with love. Gregor approves of the men, which tells her all she needs to know about them.

  She waits until nothing but the sounds of sleep can be heard throughout the house. Gregor keeps watch, while she prepares. One last look at her husband and she pulls the crown of flowers from its hiding place. The flowers are none she would ever see in her world - they’re beautiful and undying. The blooms look as if they have just been plucked not sitting in a chest for centuries. Closing her eyes she whispers a prayer to the Gods, hoping she is doing the right thing. She knows the crown has never been used, but her mother, and her mother before her, going back thousands of years, had been told of it. Each generation, one daughter was told the prophecy and what they should do if they believed it was beginning.

  She moves to a small clearing in the middle of the flowers and sits on the grass. Decision made, she takes one last deep breath and places the crown upon her head. She appears in a place not meant for the living. It is so
magnificent, the colors so deep and rich. She is in a meadow of flowers, and they are the same as those the crown are made from. Here everything has a dreamy quality, not hazy but just a bit out of focus. Damia gasps when a woman appears before her. She is amazing - The Goddess Perséphone. She radiates life from her, the flowers growing brighter and bigger just from her presence.

  Damia lowers her head to the ground, "Goddess." A hand touches her hair and energy courses through her. It leaves her feeling more alive than she has felt since the day she met Gregor as a young woman.

  "Rise, Damia." Damia freezes, shocked that the Goddess knows her name. "I know all my watchers, those sworn not only to me, but also to my son." Damia's eyes fly to the Goddess's face. "Oh, I might not have carried him, but the day he came into being, I chose him, saw something beautiful in his soul. I was in my mother's garden at the moment of his creation, and the Fates stood with me. I was the first to be told their prophecy about him." Sadness drips from her voice as she continues, "I have long waited for the call of the crown, and I pray that you are right. Tell me why you think this is the beginning."

  Swallowing and drawing a breath before beginning, Damia gathers her thoughts. "He is home. It is the first time in fifty years; the last was when I married my Gregor. He comes to rescue a girl. Gregor found out she is being held by the Order. Jason brought people with him to the house. One is a young woman, Aislin, whom he calls Kukla. The one they mean to rescue is her friend, and though he never met her, he said she is important."

  "Interesting. Do you know anything else about her?" Perséphone stares into the distance.

  "No, Goddess. When I asked about her, he stomped off." She smiled, thinking of his grumpy frown like a little boy.

  There was a twinkle in her eye when the Goddess turned back, "Yes, I think you might be right. It is time to contact some of the others. His ‘father’, my husband, will be my first stop. Jason deserves some happiness after all this time. You go back and keep an eye on things. You will see me soon. Look for the flowers to know it is me. I will not come in this form because my son dislikes those of us he blames for his gifts."

  Bowing her head in respect, Damia reaches up, removing the crown and is back in the garden courtyard. Gregor rushes to her side, and she shakes her head, putting her finger to her lips. They would wait until the others are gone from the house before they speak of what she learned. Putting the crown back in its hiding place, she moves from the garden. She pulls her husband to their bedroom. Still feeling the effects of the Goddess's power, she closes their door, pulling him to the bed. Gregor raises his eyebrows but is happy to see her need in her eyes.

  13

  EMMA

  My daddy told me about survival training many times. They break you down and then treat you like you are in an enemy camp. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, is the enemy. He taught me the enemy hides behind the kindest faces. People think daddy's crazy, but right now, looking at the handsome face across the table, I know he was crazy like a fox. Daddy also taught me the best lies are those closest to the truth, and so I chose my words carefully. This man has the advantage. I have no doubt he knows everything about my life by now. He doesn't strike me as the kind that would patiently wait for things. Oh no, he started digging as soon as he heard my name. I, on the other hand, don’t even know his name. What he doesn't realize is this is not a battle but a dance, and I have been dancing my whole life. I drink the wine; it is delicious after all, but if he hopes I'm going to be drunk, he is going to be disappointed. Growing up in New Orleans, I can drink most men under the table. Don't let my size fool you.

  Sipping from my glass, I study him over the rim. His face is one that girls would do crazy things for, and his smile causes my breath to catch, but I'm not fooled. It doesn't reach his eyes. At first, I thought they looked like the sea, but now I realize they are more glacial, frozen. Lowering my glass, I consider my next step in the dance. My first was when I came from the bath. I know he was watching because of the way his eyes lingered on me when I was first brought into the room. I picked my dress with care. The neckline plunged and it hugged me, showing off my dancer’s body. I wished for the millionth time I had Aislin's boobs, but years of being the skinny, flat chested friend had taught me how to play up what I have. Flaming red curls frame my freckled pixie face, and my ivory skin is highlighted by the lavender color of the dress. His sudden flare of interest proved I had been right in my choice.

  "The wine is delicious," I look at him through my eyelashes. "Thank you for treating me so well. You can't imagine the terror I felt waking up here. Aislin didn't tell me what happened to her, but she said it was bad. I know I'm lucky you are here to protect me."

  He smiles at me, setting his glass down and leaning forward. "I only want to keep you safe from the others, Emma. You need to realize I'm not your enemy. It is those that your friend is with now. They tricked her, deceived her. They are not good men."

  My eyes widen at the venom in his voice. "Is she safe? How do we save her?" I gasp, putting urgency in my voice.

  I see a hint of triumph in his eyes before he schools his face. His hand covers mine, and he squeezes gently, "We must get her away from them. Soon, you will need to call her, convince her to come to you, and together, we will save her from them."

  Nodding my head, I look down at my plate, playing with my food for a moment before looking in his eyes. "When we rescue her from them, then she and I can go, right? You will let us go home?"

  His smile isn't reassuring. Again it doesn't reach his eyes, and his voice rings hollow when he replies, "Of course, Emma. You would be free to go home. The threat would be gone."

  "But, what if they follow us there?" I watch his face, and the look that ripples across it chills me to my bones.

  "I plan to make sure that they don't," he replies softly. I just nod and begin to pick at my food. We sit in silence for the rest of the meal. When we are done, he walks me back to my cell. I mean, that's what it is, right? Just a more comfortable prison.

  I turn to face him at the door. Looking up at his face, I ask, "How did you get mixed up in all of this?"

  He shakes his head, "That, Emma, is a long story. I might tell you some time. It would show you how cruel they truly are. Goodnight." He turns away, moving briskly down the hall. I watch until he disappears down the stairs.

  14

  HIM

  Her question causes me to clench my fists. Ageless anger boils in my belly. I had sat listening to her half-truths throughout dinner. She is worried for her friends, but she also doesn't believe me yet. Of course, she shouldn't believe me when I said they would be free to go. That will never happen. Maybe I should tell her how I came to the Order. She would believe me then.

  She has until I track them down to come in line. I don’t want to hurt her but I will. I will do anything to obtain what I want, what I deserve. My phone vibrates, and I pull it from my pocket. Looking down, I read the text and smile. I send a response and stride to my office. I find myself drawn to the screen, watching her again. It angers me, this need. She changed into loose pants and a small top. Her flaming hair is pulled up on top of her head. She is stretching, and I can feel my body tighten with anticipation of the dance I know is coming. There is a sound dock on the dresser, and she puts her phone in it. As she scrolls through the music, a radiant smile lights up her face as she turns. Her fingers are tapping the beat on her thigh, and her head bobs back and forth; this will be no ballet. Suddenly, she is a flurry of movement, arms waving and hips rolling. A laugh breaks from my throat, startling me. She is wild with childlike abandonment and yet sensual at the same moment. Her body undulates, and I know I must have a microphone put in the room. She dances until she is covered in sweat and breathing hard. Finishing, she slumps to the floor, and I can see her chest heaving as tears run from her eyes. She only lies there a few moments before she hits her fist on the floor, pushing up. Her eyes cut to the camera before she stiffens and moves to the bathroom, slamming the door behind
her. I stare at the door, not liking the tightness in my chest or the thickness in my throat. I learned to fear the unknown from the moment I was born. This feeling she evokes is unknown.

  I glance at my phone and read the new text - they are in Greece; Jason has come home. It is time to welcome him. One last look at the screen and I stand, reaching out to turn the monitor off. Time to make the first move. I have long had people watching the house on the hill. They say he brought his new friends. Outside I stop and look up. She is standing on her balcony watching. Waving, I move to the boat and start the engine, gunning it as I move out to the sea. It takes an hour to get to the coast. I have people waiting for me when I arrive. I drive to the home I own. It is across the inlet from Jason's. Fifty years, I’ve waited for him to come back, waited to see the damage that was caused. Standing on my terrace, I can see the house. From the outside, you can't tell it is built around an ancient temple where the Gods had been worshipped. Blood had been spilled in their name in that home. Why Jason had built a house around it, I would never truly understand. The Gods and Goddess didn't give one single fuck about any of them. They are fickle, selfish creatures throwing people away like they were trash, using others like they were guard dogs until they had outlived their usefulness. I’m still watching when movement along the cliff draws my eyes. Someone moving along the cliff in the darkness. I can't make them out, but they also watch the house. They are focused on the windows in the back of the house, which I learned is where the bedrooms are located. My eyes narrow on the figure when they whip their head in my direction, causing me to step back. Great wings unfurl, and the figure dives from the cliff disappearing from my sight, only to shoot back up over the edge rising into the night sky. I move into the darkness of my house, holding my breath as they move overhead. Gritting my teeth, I try to calm my heart. Fucking great - another unknown. It seems as if Jason has someone else very interested in what he is doing. I wait until dawn before moving. I wasn't hiding, just being cautious. After all this time, I won’t be letting anyone get in the way of me and my goal.