Table of Contents
Legends
Heroes
War of the Gods
From the Authors
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
The End
Also by these authors:
Legends
and
Heroes
War of the Gods
By Danielle James
And
Angela Sanders
Copyright 2017©
Danielle James Romance
Angela Sanders' Books
Disclaimer: Legends and Heroes is very loosely based on Norse and Greek Mythology. When we say loosely, we mean if it were a rope tied to a lifeboat and we were at the other end, we would drown. This is a work of fiction. We made it up. All of it. People, places, events, etc. are also made up and any resemblance to any real person, place, thing, event, is strictly coincidental and is not intended as any sort of advertisement or alliance.
From the Authors
Thank you to all of our readers, new and to those who have stuck by me in thick and thin. You keep me going. You love my characters, giving them life, and for that I could never say thank you enough.
Thank you to my family that has always believed in me.
I would like to extend a special, heartfelt thank you to my wonderful friend and colleague, Angela Sanders, for entering my crazy world and helping me create more insanity for it! Ang, I adore you and hey look! Potato.
Love,
Danielle
Thank you to all of my readers who have stayed with me on this crazy journey. Switching from political writing to fantasy was a feat in and of itself. When I began my first series, Delphine Rising, Danielle was one of many authors who took me under their wing. I’ll be forever grateful. Not to mention, Danielle and I have known one another since we were ten years old. Love you, girl! Hey Look! Squirrel.
To my family, thank you for believing in me and being my biggest supporters. To my husband, Jason: I love you forever and ever. To my son: Mommy loves you more than the sun, the moon and all the stars in the sky.
Love,
Angela
Prologue
Many centuries ago, the Olympian God of War, Ares, sought to escape the constant advances from Aphrodite, and he took up company with the Norse Goddess, Freya. Freya was proficient in seidr, the most powerful and organized of Norse magic. He convinced her to allow him to cross Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge into Asgard, where they had a steamy affair. Ares knew there would be repercussions for his actions, and he was not disappointed when Odin, Chief of the Aesir tribe of gods on Asgard, found out about their indiscretions. Odin declared war on Olympus, citing that Ares had sullied the great goddess by lying with her.
And so, began the war of the gods.
For years the two tribes fought relentlessly, each trying to destroy the other, without gain. Two evenly matched tribes could not best one another in battle nor in magic. Tensions fizzled out when the Olympians became cursed for their petty ways and the war was all but forgotten.
Until the day Loki spotted Ares on Midgard, also known as Earth.
Chapter One
Loki, the God of Mischief, was minding his own business, leaving Head Quarters, an upscale strip club on West Thirty Eighth Street, when someone caught his eye. The man seemed vaguely familiar, but Loki couldn’t be sure who he was. If his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, and that was possible after the seventeen Whiskey Sours he had just consumed with a girl named “Bella” sitting on his lap, he was looking at the Olympian God of War. But that wasn’t possible, was it? The Olympians were cursed and could not leave Mount Olympus.
Out of pure curiosity, Loki followed the man. His hair was the same as Loki remembered, right down to the braids on the side of his face. His build was the same, along with the arrogant, self-important swagger as he moved along the side walk. Loki followed him to a store called Edible Arrangements. Why in the hell would the God of War go into a place like that?
Loki leaned against the wall on the front of the building while he waited for the man to take his leave. When the door opened, he saw the man’s face clearly and there was no doubt who he was looking at. Ares. The God of War. The selfish prick who used Freya as a well to dip his filthy, tiny, boy prick into. She meant nothing to him; just another notch in his belt. Loki felt his own face twist in disgust right about the time that Ares looked at him.
“What are you sneering at?” the God of War asked him as he pushed past, solidly bumping Loki with his massive shoulder. He was carrying a large box with the store logo on it.
Loki turned to face him, but Ares had already begun walking down the street. “How are you here?” he demanded, “And why? And what the hell are you carrying?”
Ares cringed, stopping dead in his tracks. The war inside of him wanted to smite that little bastard where he stood. The husband part knew that he needed to go. “What’s it to you?” he asked while grinding his teeth to control his temper.
“You’re a filthy cow and you’re supposed to be cursed,” Loki told him. “And I asked you a question. I want an answer.”
Ares spun around to glare at Loki, placing the box very gently on the sidewalk next to his feet. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I broke my curse, you low-life scum. Furthermore, while there is nothing I would like better than to kick your sorry ass right now, my wife is waiting for me.”
Loki laughed out loud. “Your wife?” More laughing. “The God of War has a wife? What did you do? Kidnap her? Is she chained to the wall in some dark, damp dungeon?”
Ares bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at the box. He should go. He knew it. “Never speak of Emma.”
“Emma?” Loki taunted. “You took the time to learn her name? She must be a hellhound to find the likes of you attractive. You never were very picky about who you pillaged and plundered. Do you have to coat your balls in peanut butter to get her to lick them? Does she come when you whistle?”
Ares tried to keep himself in check. Really, he did. His entire body was shaking from head to toe, but Emma would have his head if he didn’t get that damn arrangement home in time for her dinner party. “You will not get another warning,” Ares ground out. “Keep her name out of your mouth, you damn pig bastard.”
Loki appeared to be frightened, but only for a moment before breaking out in laughter. “Am I supposed to be scared? Look at you,” he pointed at Ares, “You dress in human clothes and you act like a trained dog! Maybe one day the two of you can have ugly little hell-puppies!”
Without another thought, Ares lost the grip he had on his self-control. His body glowed from the inside out, uncaring of the humans who might see him. His clothes were replaced with battle gear, his sword of fire appearing in his hand. He leapt into the air and swung his right hand, hitting Loki squarely in the jaw with the butt of his sword. The Norse god fell backward onto his ass. Ares crouched down, pressing a knee into his chest and the sword against his throat. “You are just as stupid as I remember,” Ares gro
wled. “I am still the God of War, lest you forget it again. Take your ass back over that rainbow and get back to Asgard. Do not cross me again, or the next time your head will roll.”
Ares stood up and brushed himself off, leaving Loki lying on the ground. He didn’t dare move, not even to breathe. As Ares’ clothing returned to their former state, he picked the box up and began walking again. Loki watched as he retrieved something from his pocket and put it to his ear.
“Yes, I know Honey. I’m on my way,” Ares was saying as he walked. “I had to set an old acquaintance straight…. I know, but… only a little! No, Ok, I’m going.” And then the God of War disappeared.
Loki pushed himself off the ground only after the God of War was gone. How dare the fool accost him? He would pay, Loki would see to it.
Even though he had ghosted himself back home, Ares was still running incredibly late. When he appeared in his house, he looked at the guests who were already there and waiting. Thanatos, and Sharalyn, his wife, were seated next to each other on the loveseat while Poseidon was in his favorite recliner with his feet propped up on the coffee table instead of reclining. In his right hand was a glass of his signature Scotch, looking exactly like the asshole that he was. His wife and mate, Arora, was seated on the sofa next to him.
Poseidon was tall, even for a god, with that hair and those baby blue eyes... Even his stunning wife, who looked like a blonde supermodel, barely compared. No wonder women had fallen at his feet for centuries.
Ares just shook his head and walked to the kitchen to drop off the eatable arrangements that Emma had insisted upon. He was not going to get caught up in the Sea God “jawline envy” thing right then.
Just as he sat the box down and lifted the arrangement from it, Emma walked into the kitchen and took Ares’ breath away. Her fiery red hair was tied up in a loose bun with little tendrils escaping around her face. Her eyes were tired, but still the color of tanzanite and just as sharp as ever. She was stunning, just as beautiful as the first time he’d laid eyes on her in that grocery store so long ago. "You're late. Again. What kept you this time?" Emma demanded.
"You'll never believe who I ran into on the street. Loki, the Trickster bastard from Asgard. He opened his mouth and nothing but smack rolled out. I had to teach him a lesson. No one speaks ill of my wife and gets away with it. Sorry I'm late," He reached over to lay his hand on her swollen belly and a sense of pride welled within him, knowing he would soon be a father.
Emma swatted his hand away. "We talked about this. Don't touch me right now. I look like the broad side of a barn and have you seen my cankles?" She asked holding her leg out for Ares to examine. "I sure can't. And damn it! How many times have we talked about you fighting in the street?" She huffed trying to waddle past him.
"I only smited him just a little," he replied, raising his hand up to show her his thumb and pointer finger.
"A little my fat ass," she retorted.
"Oh honey, you're not fat, you're pregnant," Ares tried to smooth things over.
She glared at Ares for a full minute.
Ares felt as if his soul was slowly smoldering within the confines of his corporeal body as an imminent warning of the explosion to come while Emma continued the stare of death.
"You can fuck all the way off and take that fruit tree and shove it straight up your ass. And by the way, I said get some fruit, not a whole son of bitchin' fruit exhibition." She snatched a strawberry from the arrangement and stormed from the kitchen leaving Ares to watch her go.
"I love that warrior woman of mine," Ares sighed absently. "She's so scary when she's angry."
Emma walked right back into the kitchen. "What did that asshole say about me and who is he exactly?" she asked.
Ares smiled, knowing that she would catch on eventually. "He may have called you a hellhound and said we were going to have little hell-puppies running around. Then something about a dog whistle, but I stopped listening after a few minutes and commenced to beating his ass," Ares responded.
Emma took a long, deep breath and slowly let it out. "It would do me no good to get mad right now." She pressed her lips together for a moment as if she were deliberately curbing her words. "And this is where the smiting took place?" she asked.
Ares nodded, cheerfully grinning like an idiot, all too happy to have done the smiting. "His name is Loki, the Trickster. He's a Norse god from Asgard," he said.
"A who? Norse gods are real too? Oh whatever. I have a dinner party to attend to. Grab the fruit exhibition and place it on the dining room table." she said and took her leave. "Mother fuckin', piece of shit. I got his whistle right here. Say that hellhound shit to my face," she mumbled under her breath as she stomped toward the dining room.
Ares followed her attempting to hold back the belly laugh that was soon to follow. His warrior never used to cuss like a sailor, but those pregnancy hormones were doing some wacky mojo on her, leaving her with no filter whatsoever. He thought it was hot.
When Ares and Emma walked into the living room, Arora suggested that she and Sharalyn head into the kitchen to help Emma with dinner preparation and told the men to take their drinks outside on the patio.
Poseidon conjured three glasses of Scotch on the rocks and headed to the patio with Ares and Thanatos following behind him.
After they were seated, Thanatos, the God of Death, raised a dark brow over his swirling black eyes and asked, "Is everything all right?" The man was enormous, with dark skin and tribal tattoos covering his upper body, hair that was cut short and black as his eyes. His resting face was scary, let alone his war face.
"Of course.” Ares answered." Guess who I got to smite today? Loki thought he'd be a stalking prick and talk shit about Emma. I warned him, but he couldn't keep his trap shut." He smiled wickedly. It had been a long while since he’d been in a fight and it felt good to get back in the game.
"And Emma's okay with this?" Poseidon asked, sitting forward taking a sip of his Scotch.
"Sure, she is. My warrior woman makes me proud," he replied, puffing out his chest like a peacock with a gleam in his eyes.
"It didn't sound like she was very happy from where we were sitting," Thanatos said with a smirk as he slowly sipped his drink.
"She's just hormonal, but I believe she would smite him herself if she could," he replied.
"What the hell is Loki doing down here anyway?" Thanatos asked no one in particular. "It can't be anything good."
“I have no idea. He was lurking outside the store when I stepped out. I recognized the asshole immediately.”
Poseidon stroked his beard as he looked out into the New York City night sky. He knew if Loki was running around on earth, it was likely other Norse gods had followed. The war had long since been forgotten once God had placed curses on the Olympians, but that didn’t mean a few of the Norsemen weren’t still holding a grudge.
“We need to keep a close eye on Loki,” Poseidon said as he continued to think of the many reasons why a Norse god, especially the trickster himself, would be on earth.
“Why is that? Ares asked. “Do you plan on smiting him as well? I’d pay money to see you knock him on his ass,” he chuckled.
“Poseidon isn’t allowed to smite anyone. Arora has him on a tight leash,” Thanatos said jokingly, conjuring another Scotch on the rocks.
“Fuck you, Thanatos.” Poseidon growled. “I can smite anyone I want, anytime I want. I am the God of the Sea; my mate has no power over me.”
“Are you sure about that?” Ares asked. “What about that pigeon taking a shit on your wife’s brand-new car?”
“Or the ant crawling up the side of your glass?” Thanatos dared, leaning forward with a mischievous grin.
Poseidon caught the ant just before it climbed over the rim of his glass. “I will smite this ant. I will kill it dead, right here in my hand,” he snarled. “I should smite you for even suggesting that I couldn’t.”
Thanatos took a sip of his Scotch. “Bring it on tough guy, but your ant
just got away,” he nodded in the direction of where the ant had been.
Poseidon stood. “That’s it. I’m kicking your ass.” Then the patio door slid open and Emma poked her head out. “Dinner’s ready.”
Thanatos laughed and followed her into the apartment while Poseidon was behind him threating the worst kinds of torture under his breath. Ares patted Poseidon on the back, “Take it easy man and please don’t upset my wife.”
Chapter Two
The caves were exactly the way that Loki remembered them from eons before. Even though he had not been to see the dwarves since the debacle with Mjolnir, he still remembered exactly how to get where he needed to go.
The brothers were working, as usual, when Loki entered their abode. “I have a proposition for you,” he announced.
“What are you doing, showing your face around here?” the first asked.
“Go away,” the second told him.
“I am in need of something,” Loki continued as if they hadn’t spoken. “I need a magical box that can’t be opened by a mortal or deity unless a magical word is spoken and a sleeping potion powerful enough to knock out a dragon.”
“Not from us you don’t,” they replied in unison. He hated it when they did that.
“I have brought payment in advance,” Loki offered, tossing a large burlap bag into the room. It had been secured with a bamboo cord and made a loud thud as it hit the ground.
“We want nothing from you,” they said.
“That sack is filled with one hundred pounds of Asguardian precious metals,” Loki told them. “Consider it a good faith payment with more to come after you complete your task.”
The first dwarf untied the bag very carefully and pulled it open. “My gods it is true. What sort of trickery is this?”
Loki shook his head. “No tricks this time.”
“Why should we believe you?”
“I’m turning over a new leaf,” Loki said. “I’m trying to live my life right. Who cares why? Can you do it?”
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