The Cursed Satyroi: Volume One Collection

by Rebekah Lewis

  Why does it matter? Kat merely nodded, she’d tell him, but she didn’t understand why Pavlo thought it was important after so long.

  “P-pan has more p-power than he knows. Dion-nyyysus believes the nymphs no longer realize they’re nymphs. Or the gene has gone dormant. No one has f-found one in over a thousand years. Pan is the on-only one w-who...” Pavlo’s eyes closed and his breathing stopped.

  “Pavlo?” She shook him gently. “You’re immortal, right? You shouldn’t be able to die from a little flesh wound.” The wound was not little, but she attempted to downplay it for him as best she could.

  “Technically, he cannot die from a flesh wound,” a new voice said. “But Silenus wields a weapon forged of Hephaestusian steel. It was designed to eradicate a god, Pan specifically, and therefore can kill anyone or anything of equal or lesser power.”

  Kat glanced up. Melancton stood by a tall pine tree. His hair was wet and matted on the right side, and he had blood on his face. She didn’t know how long he’d been standing there.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I attempted to keep Silenus reined in, but the psychotic fuck sucker-punched me with the hilt of his weapon.” He bared his teeth and tenderly touched the side of his head, wincing. His hand came away stained.

  “He’s going to try to kill Pan.” Kat’s stomach knotted.

  “Yes.” Melancton’s hooves clip-clopped as he strode closer to her. Hey, he remembered pants and a shirt. “Let’s get you back to Pan’s home and away from Silenus, if he succeeds.” He held out a hand to her.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I’m not going anywhere with anyone but Pan. I don’t trust you. And if you cared about my safety, you would go help him.”

  He expelled a breath and dropped his gaze. “Unfortunately, I cannot do that.”

  “Then you are working against him. Dionysus didn’t want peace, did he? He wanted to use me to bait Pan so Silenus could kill him and steal the syrinx.”

  Melancton hesitated. “I do not know if that is entirely true. I was charged to keep Silenus from Pan while he was in town. Though I tried to keep him from coming after either of you, I cannot break my vow now that events are in motion.”

  He hadn’t denied Dionysus gave him those orders. Or that she was bait. And obviously the taxi that had transported them from the hotel hadn’t made it to the airport. For all she knew, Dionysus was still here, munching on popcorn as the chaos unfolded. “Why can’t you break them? Dionysus said you were present the night of the curse because you disobeyed orders. Is he here too, watching us?”

  The reminder of what Dionysus said seemed to anger him, but he quickly disguised it. “Dionysus left weeks ago. Pavlo and I stayed only to keep Silenus restrained. Not very well, apparently. As for my past, I was to go to battle, yes, but after a bout of wine and thinking too much about things I couldn’t have, I abandoned my people. That night I was cursed into a beastly form. Then my spear was used to murder a woman right before my eyes, and other...events kept me from atoning. Tell me I’m not being punished for my actions.”

  “Awful things happen, Melancton. It doesn’t mean you have to suffer for them the rest of your life, especially not for eternity. Make amends. Save Pan.”

  “I’m sorry, Katerina, but I cannot.”

  ***

  Pan was going to kill him. He would rip Silenus’ head from his disgusting body and stomp on it like a pumpkin.

  His target ran ahead like a frightened rabbit, knowing he stood no chance. However, Silenus still clutched his weapon in his hands, which kept Pan on guard. The satyr would play dirty. Perhaps Silenus played him, hoping Pan would strike so he could turn and bury the blade into his neck.

  Pan’s first goal was to disarm him. He unfurled his wings and took to the air, but he couldn’t maneuver as swiftly as he’d like because of the branches. Flight saved him from having to watch his footing and dodging all the obstacles of the forest floor. Also, he’d have a better trajectory for striking once he got a clean break through the trees. As Silenus leaped over the small plants and upraised roots, Pan tired of the chase. At the first opportunity, he dove for the axe.

  Just as he anticipated, Silenus twisted as he hopped over a fallen tree and swung the axe toward him. Pan spun out of the way, knocking into a tree with a thud. Wrongly assuming the hit would take Pan out of the fight, Silenus closed in. Gripping the axe handle with both hands, he brought the weapon up again. Pan growled and crouched down, set to attack. He flexed his fingers, letting the ends morph into claws, ready for Silenus to make his move.

  Silenus pounced, swinging the axe downward while leaping, intending to cleave Pan’s chest open. Throwing himself to the side, the axe planted into the tree where he’d been. Pan smiled, knowing animalistic features in that form made the motion unsettling. “You always did blow your load too fast. At least, that’s what the nymphs told me.” He slashed at Silenus with razor-tipped claws, cutting him down the side of his face and across his chest.

  Silenus abandoned the axe and resorted to brute strength. Pan used his tail as a whip, slapping the man’s face and knocking him over. The hit broke the skin down the satyr’s cheek. While Silenus was down, Pan pulled the weapon from the tree and tossed it into the woods where it couldn’t be used against him. He wasn’t ready to end the fight yet. No, he wanted Silenus to suffer. Pan tackled him, intending to rip the elder man’s heart out with his bare hands.

  The attack came from the left. Neither of them had time to react when it occurred. Pan was struck and he toppled. When he glanced up, Silenus stood there stunned. He vanished a moment later. Pan looked left and right, shifting back to his satyr form.

  There. Silenus lay about twenty feet away. Headless, with a huge hole in the center of his chest.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Language, son.”

  No. This is not happening.

  There was a slight blur in his peripheral, and then Hermes was there. He held Silenus’ axe in one hand with the severed head dangling beside by its hair. In the other hand, Hermes carried the satyr’s dripping heart.

  His father was dressed in swim trunks with white, Hawaiian flowers on them. The trunks themselves might have been blue or green, but in the evening’s fading light it was difficult to discern. Hermes wore black flip-flops, and his black hair was tangled, slightly damp, cut to his shoulders. The pairs of tiny white wings on each ankle folded around his legs. They dissolved into what looked like wing tattoos. Cool trick. He must have picked it up to blend in with the humans. Hard to be inconspicuous when it looked like doves had flown through his heels and gotten stuck there.

  “Were you at the beach?” Pan was appalled. Hermes was supposed to be in Olympus. Asleep!

  Hermes raised a brow. “Will you dress yourself like someone civilized, or did you go Neanderthal when you were cursed? No one wants to see all that. Seriously. Why do the lot of you run around with your dicks swinging?”

  Pan rolled his eyes, but reverted to his human glamour. He completed the illusion by dressing himself in jeans and a black T-shirt. “Tell me how you really feel, Dad.”

  “I will!” Hermes tossed Silenus’ non-beating heart over his shoulder like it was a simple apple core. It hit a stump with a sickeningly wet slap. He then dropped the severed head and kicked it away from him, making a noise of disgust when the blood remained on his flip-flop.

  Hermes waved the axe around to draw Pan’s attention. “You see this?” He pointed at the goat headed emblem in the center. “Hephaestusian steel. The inscription denotes it is specifically designed to kill ‘the first of the satyrs.’ This asshole is running around carrying one of the only things in existence that can kill you, and you’re going to dive-bomb him? You’re not a mockingbird chasing a housecat, you’re a god. Act like it. Next time, conjure something sharp and stab him in the face. At least blast him with a laser beam or something cool.”

  Hermes knew full well none of the gods had laser beams. Zeus had lightning, but that was di
fferent. Though Pan supposed he could’ve had the tree roots rise up and capture Silenus. Ugh! It pissed him off when he had good ideas after all was said and done.

  “I had this,” Pan said. “Silenus was as good as dead until you showed up and got in my way. Why the fuck are you even here?” He snatched the axe from his father, not trusting the prick not to use it. “I thought you were hibernating.”

  “Does it look like I want to be here right now? I was in Malibu, chillaxing in my beachside hot tub when suddenly my phone rang. It was Zeus letting me know my son was possibly about to be beheaded by an idiot, and if I had any sense, I’d drop what I was doing because he was anticipating meeting his new granddaughter-in-law and great-grandson.”

  Pan’s mouth dropped open. “Wait. Run that past me again.”

  “Mazel tov. It’s a boy.” Hermes couldn’t sound less excited.

  “That’s not possible.” He thought he was sterile. Other gods knocked up women left and right where he never had, and furthermore, no satyrs had ever sired young. It was part of the curse he supposed. “I have never impregnated anyone, so why now?”

  “That’s exactly what I said when I knocked up your mother. Oh, she was maaaaad...” His eyes glazed over. After staring at nothing for a few moments, he shook himself. “Anyway, if we don’t get your woman immortalized soon, your son will be mortal. Zeus doesn’t like watching his family die unless he smites them himself.” Hermes glanced around. “Where is the ole lady anyhow?”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Why aren’t you, and Zeus for that matter, sleeping like everyone locked outside of Olympus was told?”

  “Oh, that.” Hermes waved a hand dismissively. “We only told people that so they’d leave us alone. Got tired of answering all their cries for help. Pushed them off on newer deities. The gods who didn’t want change and wanted to be all-powerful all the time were booted out, the rest we forgot to tell. Sorry, son. Your memo was lost in the mail. Well, it was all a bit need-to-know, anyway, and we didn’t have cell phones back then. To be fair, you were a bit busy crying over dead nymphs and didn’t need anything else to worry about. You weren’t exactly speaking to me anyway.”

  Pan gritted his teeth so hard his jaw began to tic. He lunged at his father, wanting to throttle him, but Hermes was too quick and hovered in midair a few feet away, wings at his ankles fluttering at a rapid pace. Pan wondered how he kept his flip-flops on when he skyrocketed about like a hummingbird. The random shit I think about.

  “Now, now. Patricide does not become you. And here I was helping you so you didn’t become a murderer like some of the rest of us. I know how much it means to you to not be like us.” His tone softened and Pan could almost believe Hermes’ was sad.

  “I didn’t need your help!”

  Hermes crossed his arms as he landed on a branch out of Pan’s reach...for the moment. “Of course you did. You’ve never killed anyone in all your years on this world. Zeus and I agreed we didn’t want you to start now. It was the obvious choice that I save you from such dark deeds, and I haven’t gotten to do Zeus’ smiting for so long.” He appeared positively euphoric at that thought.

  “Whatever. You helped. Go back to your hot tub.” Pan turned his back and walked off.

  “Not so fast.” Hermes appeared in front of him.

  “Oh, you’re still here?” Pan brushed past him as he headed in the direction he’d left Katerina. She had a small cut he needed to attend to. It didn’t look serious, but that bastard had marred her skin. He wanted to kill Silenus all over again. And fucking Hermes had denied him the vengeance that had been his by right.

  “I know about the ambrosia Dionysus gave you, and you need to know he cannot be trusted. You cannot accept any handouts he gives you.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  “Dionysus is seeking the syrinx. Apollo has a spy on the inside of the whole Boeotian satyr clan or herd or flock or whatever the hell they are called? Gaggle maybe? A gaggle of satyrs? No? Anyway, you don’t want to do anything that will tie your chick up with that yahoo.”

  Pan wondered who the spy was, but he’d have plenty of time to consider it once he made Hermes leave. “That’s very interesting; color me intrigued. Why are you here again?”

  “To make your woman immortal so you can stop being a dick and get an attitude adjustment.”

  Yeah, okay. Pan was the dick. Of course he was. As much as he wanted to tell his father to fuck off for abandoning him when he’d been cursed, Pan wanted to keep Katerina too much to continue the argument. And even if Hermes made Pan’s life miserable, he was a god who could be trusted in the long run. He was just annoying. “Fine. But when it’s done, you’re leaving.”

  “Pfft. Like I’d stay in the dump you call a home anyway. I might get attacked by a killer dust bunny or something equally disgusting.” He looked back down at the severed head. “Hey, ever seen a three-headed dog play fetch with a decapitated head?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sound of crunched pinecones and footsteps over dried leaves pulled Kat from her thoughts. She rose to her feet as Pan came into her line of sight, but she halted as she was about to run toward him. A dark-haired man in shorts appeared behind Pan—hovering above the ground. And he looked very similar to Pan. So similar, in fact, that he could have been his brother.

  Okay…

  But if Pan was the Jersey Devil and a satyr and a god, then it wasn’t even remotely strange that half-naked men could float. Her life really had taken the most unlikely turn.

  The floating man seemed to appear directly in front of her without having moved. He kissed her hand even though Kat hadn’t even offered it to him.

  “So you must be Katerina. My son told me all about you.” He winked at her, and he smiled, displaying a set of dimples.

  “Son?” She couldn’t help it. She immediately dropped her gaze to his ankles as he floated down to the ground and the little white wings stopped fluttering. “Hermes.”

  He bowed dramatically, and then rewarded her with a wide grin. “In the flesh.”

  “I told you nothing about her. Quit lying,” Pan interrupted. He didn’t seem pleased. But he did have possession of the axe Silenus had wanted to kill him with, which had to be a good sign.

  “I’m so glad you’re alive.” Kat removed her hand from Hermes’ grip and flung herself at Pan. She hugged him tightly.

  Pan kissed her then, claiming her mouth as his reward for making it back to her alive. Kat stepped back and took the axe from him, noting absently the blade stained with blood. Amazingly, she didn’t care. She tossed it aside and then kissed him back like her life depended on it. She almost forgot they had an audience until Hermes cleared his throat behind them.

  Kat reluctantly pulled away. “Later.” She winked at Pan and glanced back at his father. The same dark wavy hair and eyes, similar facial structure...yeah, Kat could see it.

  “What happened?” she asked finally, bending to collect the axe she had dropped. It had a goat head in the middle, with curled horns like Pan’s, slanted eyes, and a goatee. Strange lettering appeared here or there. Greek? It was really a remarkable weapon with its slightly curvy handle and semicircular blade. It looked like a combination of battle axe and movie relic. The sticky red-brown smear along the sharp edge chilled her as she finally let herself think about the implications.

  Silenus had to be dead, and she should be upset. But...she wasn’t. She gripped the axe handle tightly, her knuckles turning white.

  “Be careful with that.” Pan gently took the blade away from her. “You could have cut your stomach.” He stared at her midsection with a frown. Then he squinted as though trying to see through her shirt or something. She started to feel self-conscious about it. Was she getting fat? Kat glanced down.

  “What happened to Pavlo?” Pan asked suddenly, bringing her back to her senses.

  “Melancton showed up after you and Silenus disappeared. He took Pavlo’s body with him.” Though she suspected he left some internal o
rgans in the leaves.

  “Which way?” Pan clenched his fists around the axe handle.

  “Just leave it, Pan. Melancton said we shouldn’t be bothered again. He didn’t mean us harm.”

  “That’s what Dionysus said before Silenus tried to kill me, and possibly you. Sorry, but I don’t believe a word either has to say. Melancton is loyal to Dionysus.”

  “Is he?” Hermes asked suddenly, but it had sounded rhetorical. The Olympian studied his fingernails. “Hmm. I guess he is, if you say so.” He motioned for them to leave. “Go converse whilst I give Hades a call. He’ll send Cerberus to collect Silenus while I personally escort his filthy soul to the Underworld. The last thing you need is him haunting the woods.” As an afterthought he said, “Should probably take Pavlo too while I’m at it.”

  “How is a dog going to col—never mind. I don’t want to know.” Kat’s mind was on overload with processing all that had happened. When Hermes left them, she whispered, “He takes souls to the Underworld?”

  Pan shook his head. “It’s not his primary job, but he has been known to do so in the past. He’s right though, Silenus’ soul doesn’t need to be wandering around until someone comes to collect it.”

  As they traipsed through the trees, Pan told her about his fight with Silenus, and how Hermes showed up to deliver the deathblow. He seemed irritated about it, and Kat wondered if he felt he’d needed to prove himself. But Hermes taking the decision from him may have been for the best. She knew she was relieved he’d not killed anyone. One day she hoped Pan would be too.

  “Did you really want his death on your conscience?” Kat caught him staring at her stomach again. He looked away quickly. Okay, no more cheeseburgers for her.