by Casey Wyatt
Nix’s thoughts turned to where she had been in 1906 and, of course, she hit a blank wall. Must have been on duty. Damn. She hated not remembering anything. “Did you find his brother?”
“Yes. The brother had been injured during the quake and taken to a mortal field hospital. The poor guy was inconsolable. He had lost his lover, found her buried in the rubble.” Cal cracked the lid off his coffee and sniffed. Satisfied, he took a sip.
Nix’s spine tingled. A moment later a tall blond entered the shop. He turned every female head, and a few of the males, in his direction. And no wonder—his ethereal beauty was breathtaking.
Cal stood up with a big smile on his face and offered his hand. “Declan, old friend. It’s good to see you again.”
The blond pulled Cal into a bear hug and released him with a clap on the back. “It’s good to see you, too, Cal.” He turned his attention to Nix, his placid gray eyes fixing on her. “And you must be Nix.”
Oh, there was more to this male to be sure. Now that he was closer, she could feel the faint thrum of magic emanating from him, like subtle background music. “Yes,” she stammered, not having time to wonder how Declan knew who she was. Declan held out her chair. When she was seated, the men joined her at the table.
“I appreciate you taking a detour on your way to D.C.,” Cal said.
“It’s my pleasure to help you.” Declan turned his gaze onto Nix. Her agitation poured out of her, as if draining down from her head and out through her toes. Like a warm blanket, his magic coated her skin, calm and reassuring. How did he do that?
Nix tried not to openly stare at Declan. His long hair, pulled into a ponytail, hung down the back of his tailored shirt. He was a good two inches taller than Cal and he had to stretch his long legs out in order to sit at the table. The July heat didn’t seem to faze him either, his white skin remaining as smooth as cream. As Cal and Declan chatted, catching up on old times, Nix studied his energy. Definitely otherworldly with hints of Earth magic and . . . oh. She stilled her hand, preventing it from rising to her mouth. He was an Elf.
“ . . . so, you can see our dilemma. Zeus’ rules prevent any of the Gods from assisting us or even giving me a hint as to who stole my soul. Not to mention the larger issue at hand. Sinister forces are at work, of the Epic kind.” Cal leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest.
Declan studied Cal for a moment, as if taking his measure. “My Queen has authorized me to help you however I can.”
Nix breathed a sigh of relief, even though she had no idea what this Elf could possibly do for them. She had heard rumors though. That the Elves were part of an extra-dimensional race stranded on Earth and that they had fantastical powers even the Gods envied.
“I have to warn you, I can’t tell you where your soul is because it has already been parted from your physical being. But I can look into your mind and possibly determine the hand behind its theft.” Declan waited patiently for Cal’s consent.
A cocktail of anticipation and dread slammed into Nix. This could be the moment of truth.
Nix leaned forward, sweat dripping down her spine. What if the last face Cal had seen before the theft was Nix’s? Before she could flee the table, Cal’s hand clasped her wrist. His warm fingers stroked the flesh of her inner wrist.
“Nix, no matter what Declan finds, it won’t change my feelings for you.” Cal’s smile reached all the way to his eyes.
Nix had an overwhelming urge to lean across the table and kiss Cal’s lips. To taste his tongue, to pull his head down to her breasts—
Nix cleared her throat and fidgeted under the men’s scrutiny. Declan watched her clinically, making her wonder if he was reading her thoughts. Cal’s face was expressionless, almost distant. Her mind raced, trying to uncover where that desire originated.
Declan broke the silence first. “Nix, I would not access your mind without permission.” He held up his hand, stopping her denial. “As soon as anyone learns of my gift, that is the first thing they all think. In any case, even if you invited me to reach deep inside your mind, I would have to proceed with caution. I perceive an alien energy surrounding you. It’s not of this earth or of any dimension I’m familiar with.”
Cal tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as if he was seeing Nix for the first time. He knew something about her. She was convinced of it.
“Interesting. I didn’t know that. But you’re not here for me. Can you help Cal?” she asked.
“Yes, to a point. I sense some of the same alien energy in him as well, but not to the degree you are affected.”
“Let’s do this then. I don’t want to delay you any longer,” Cal said, turning to face Declan.
“All right.” Declan’s gaze locked onto Cal’s. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Nix fidgeted, wondering what Declan could see.
Declan spoke, startling her. “With your permission, I can share this with you.”
Nix relaxed the shields guarding her mind. In a flash, her mind opened as Declan’s thoughts tapped into hers.
Don’t want you to feel left out, Declan chuckled in her head.
For a moment Nix lost her equilibrium, until she realized she was experiencing the world through Cal’s eyes. The view was distorted, fuzzy, like a poor television signal. Even though it was a shared vision, she could smell pizza. Along with a heavy-handed application of cologne. Devlin Ward was seated across the table.
Cal laughed at Devlin’s lame joke. She would never understand male humor. Her mind strained to see beyond the table . . .
You’ll only give yourself a headache, said Declan. We’re limited to Cal’s senses in this moment in time.
Frustrated, Nix concentrated on hearing, smelling, anything that might give them a hint of—
The lights went out. The dining room plunged into darkness. An eerie quiet filled the room.
Cal swore. “What the hell?”
Devlin shouted something.
A soft meaty thunk came next.
“Devlin?” Cal called out.
A flash of sliver glinted in the pale darkness, the only light from the streetlamps outside. A lone figure cut a silhouette against the dining room window.
Nix’s pulse sped up at the familiar shape. Before she could identify the figure, Cal grunted. A voice spoke . . .
. . . the vision cut out. . . whatever happened next couldn’t be seen or heard. . .
It’s the alien energy, Declan surmised.
The action resumed. Cal’s head throbbed. The wood floor hard against his back. Pain seared and tore into his chest. Tendrils of power ripped into his body, latching onto his inner light. A thousand tiny cuts peeled his skin, one layer at a time. Cal lay helpless in agony as his soul drained from his body.
Nix’s mind reeled, frustration and anger consuming her.
The memory abruptly ended.
She blinked hard a few times. Alone at the table, she looked around. Cal and Declan stood at the ice cream counter, the teenage girls all but drooling over them.
How long have I been sitting here in a daze? Nix wondered.
Cal took a seat from across the table and slid a dish of ice cream in her direction. “Eat some of this. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Chocolate therapy?” Nix took a bite. “With a hint of lemon?”
“Lemon Kiss ice cream. Sounded interesting. I guessed you might like it.” Cal reached over and touched her wrist. “Thanks.”
Nix stopped eating. “For what?”
“If you didn’t think outside of the box, I would’ve never thought to call Declan.”
Nix’s eyes tracked Declan at the ice cream counter, where the girls continued to try and catch his attention. He politely paid for his cone and sat down at the table. Nice to know the guy wasn’t a pervert. The young ladies would have happily given up their nether regions to him, yet he seemed completely uninterested.
Cal continued. “Seeing that night again. It gave me a better idea of who might have jumped me and Devlin.”
The ice cream soured in Nix’s stomach. She knew what Cal would say before he opened his mouth.
“It was a Destroyer,” he confirmed.
Gods be damned.
Cal stuffed his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans. They were cooling their heels outside of the ice cream shop waiting for the drawbridge to lower again. Nix was uncharacteristically quiet, her face inclined toward the river. Whether she was concerned about Declan’s revelation or just missed the water, he couldn’t be sure.
His phone rang and he answered it. He should have checked caller ID first.
“Hello, Son. Why do I have to hear about your troubles through the grapevine?” Ares sounded irritated.
“Greetings to you, too, Father.” Cal ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to pull it out. He had learned long ago that the last person to involve was Ares. The God couldn’t help but make a bad situation worse. He thrived on chaos and conflict.
“I know you’ll never openly ask for my help. Even when you were about to get your balls lopped off by the Amazons, you kept silent.”
Cal groaned. “Father, I look forward to the day when you stop reminding me about that incident.”
“It’s such a fun story. Have you told—”
Nix snatched the phone out of Cal’s hand. “Listen Ares, we don’t have time for your bullshit today. Either be helpful, or get lost.”
Cal had forgotten how easily Ares could provoke her. He hoped his father would abide by Nereus’ non-disclosure rule and not blurt out forbidden information.
Nix’s frown deepened and her mouth opened to speak again.
Cal deftly retrieved the phone from her, receiving a cross look in return. Ares laughed in Cal’s ear. “Oh, son, she is still so full of anger. Too bad she’s not of my blood. She’d make the clan proud. Bring your water pistol to me. I have a question for her.” The phone line went silent.
He felt the tug of magic a millisecond before it hit. Cal grabbed Nix a moment before they were transported from the street to an abandoned warehouse. Only the Gods knew where.
Nix yanked out of his grip. “What the hell, Cal? I don’t apprec—” The words died on her lips.
Cal swore under his breath. They were encircled by his siblings, Demigod sons and daughters of Ares. A sea of frowns and dark stares greeted Cal and Nix. All his siblings were less than pleased to see Cal. The feeling was completely mutual.
One of his sisters broke from the pack and approached. Aurelia’s lips were pulled into a grim line. Her scarlet red hair was swept up in a tight chignon, like a stern librarian in haute couture. The fact that she was pissed off echoed in the crisp clatter of her stiletto heels.
Aurelia stopped in front of him, her face so close he could see the dusting of light brown freckles across the bridge of her nose. She moved quickly, like a cobra strike. She slapped his face, the sound shattering the quiet. “Cal. You dare defy Father yet again. Because of you, I’m missing out on the closure of a million dollar deal.” Aurelia owned a financial management service in New York City.
Cal nursed his jaw with his left hand, while restraining Nix with his right one. “Good to see you too, Aurelia. Apologies on the deal. I have no idea what I did this time.” Nix struggled against his hold. He shot her a quick look, his eyes pleading for cooperation. They were in a bad situation if he had been summoned for the reason he feared. And Aurelia was the one sibling he actually had a good relationship with.
“This is your sister?” Nix asked. “I thought my family was messed up.”
“And this must be the Nereid Father was prattling on about.”
Cal winced inwardly. It was never good to be the focus of Ares’ attention. “Yes. Excuse me for a moment.”
“Only one. I’m sure if you think hard enough, you can figure out why we’re all here.” Aurelia stepped back, giving Cal a small space to speak with Nix privately.
Cal’s stomach sank to his toes. He was in for a great deal of misery. Even more horrifying—Nix would be there to witness it. And if she interfered, she’d become subject to the rules of his father’s brutal game. What a bastard.
“Nix. Do you trust me?” Cal tilted her chin, capturing her sea blue gaze.
She seemed surprised by the question, but thankfully answered him. “Yes.”
“You will claim neutrality. As a Guardian of an Underworld Gate, you have immunity from the event about to take place. And you must not interfere. Do you understand? If you do, my life could be forfeit.”
“Cal, I don’t understand. And I sure as shit don’t like this. We can take these guys,” Nix whispered back angrily.
“No. You said you trusted me. Promise me. Claim neutrality. Right now,” Cal begged. “Please, Nix.”
Maybe it was the tone in his voice or the look in his eyes, and he really didn’t care which, but when Nix nodded, he expelled a huge breath.
Nix turned away and straightened her back. She faced Aurelia and in a clear, loud voice proclaimed, “As a Guardian of the Underworld, I claim neutrality.”
Aurelia started at the statement, but only for a moment. She gave Cal an approving nod. “Very shrewd, brother.” Facing the circle, Aurelia took Nix by the hand. “Neutrality is granted. The Nereid is under my protection. Anyone who moves against her attacks me as well.”
Solitary applause echoed in the vast chamber. “Stunning move, Calder.” The words were spoken by Chaos, a total bastard. In personality and birth.
“I totally agree, Chaos. It seems our little brother is getting smarter as he ages.” Strife moved out of the shadow to join Chaos.
Cal inwardly groaned. Great. Just great. Could he be any more fucked? Strife and Chaos were the two most psychopathic children of Ares.
Strife smoothed down the lapels of his designer suit with long elegant fingers. “Nice of Father to include a guest. Too bad we can’t play with her.” On the surface, Strife appeared handsome, even desirable. If the polished, investment banker type was your thing. His tan, golden skin was devoid of wrinkles and other worldly imperfections. He wore his dark brown hair neat and short to match his efficiently pressed clothes.
Cal knew first hand that Strife worked his disruptive machinations behind the scenes. His MO was to create turmoil. A subtle master of manipulation, he specialized in rumors, gossip, and innuendo. Dangerous and sneaky, like a fatal disease spreading through a population, Strife had caused revolutions by riling the masses to dissatisfaction.
“Are you going to get your hands dirty this time? Or will you let Chaos do all the dirty work as usual?” Cal shot back.
“Tsk, tsk, little brother.” Strife removed his jacket, folded it precisely, and handed it to one of the siblings. He rolled up his sleeves. “Father says you are long overdue in receiving your reminder.”
Chaos erupted in laughter. “Is that fear I see on your face, Calder?”
“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you how scared I am?” Cal hoped Chaos would accept the offer. He’d like to choke his half-brother with the spiked collar around his neck. Where Strife was restrained, Chaos was plain over the top ridiculous. All black leather, studs, and punk attitude. He kept his blond hair shorn to his skull, the better to display the death’s head tattoo on his head.
And unlike Strife, Chaos worked openly, relishing in the everyday turmoil of the mortal world. Whether there was a border skirmish or flat out war, Chaos stood proudly by Ares’ side, stirring up trouble. He and Strife often worked in tandem, churning up the populace, then enjoying the fruits of their labor—suffering and destruction.
Granted, they could only work in small scale. The Delian League kept them mostly contained. Another point of contention in the family. Cal was viewed as a traitor to the clan since he didn’t engage in some form of cutthroat activity.
“I’m so ready to whip your ass, Cal. Let’s go.” Chaos stripped off his leather coat and dumped it on the floor. His naked chest sported piercings and a multitude of battle scars.
“Children, child
ren. None of that in front of our guest,” Ares said, appearing in the center of the circle.
Nix scowled from the sidelines, clearly unimpressed by his father’s godly physique. At six foot eight, Ares commanded the room, both in attitude and physical perfection. Ares had grown a goatee since Cal had last seen him. Today his long, black hair was restrained into a slick ponytail.
A murderous urge took hold. Cal wanted to rip off his father’s head. How dare he summon him and Nix? For putting Nix in harm’s way, Cal would—
Cal took several deep breaths, trying to clear away Strife and Chaos’ influence. Their magic was insidious, and he should have been immune to it. He watched Nix out of the corner of his eye. His male protective instincts were all fired up. This was the worst place for anyone to know his true feelings. If they were discovered, he wasn’t sure if immunity would protect her. Strife and Chaos would pounce.
“Father, why am I here?” Cal asked.
Ares manifested two inches from his face. “Because I wanted you here.”
The siblings laughed. An awful chorus. Animalistic energy laced around the room. They were like jackals waiting for the spoils of the kill. The desire for destruction danced in Cal’s blood.
Cal fought the urge, swallowing the bloodlust. “Yeah, and as I explained on the phone, we’re in the middle of an investigation. Nereus—”
“Nereus can take it up with me if he wants,” Ares said dismissively. “You owe me your allegiance first.”
Gods, why did they keep having this argument over and over again? “Father, you swore a blood oath to leave me alone on this matter.” Heat rose up the back of Cal’s collar. The flame in his blood was building.
“True, but your brothers, Strife and Chaos, have reminded me that you are still part of the fold.”
Cal refused to look at them. If he turned around and saw their smug smiles, he would lose it. And if he did attack his brothers, then they would all have to fight until the last warrior was left standing. In this case, it would be two against one. That was how the chips landed in the Ares family. If you took on two or more opponents at once, you fought them both.
