Mystic Ink

by Casey Wyatt

  But that didn’t stay his hand. He was missing his soul. He could be killed and he wouldn’t face a mortal death. He would spend eternity as a shade. A fate worse than death.

  “That may be true, but I swore a blood oath to the Delian League. My allegiance is to justice and order,” Cal said placidly, his tone even and measured, though his pulse pounded in his ears.

  “Listen to him. He sounds like a mortal superhero,” Strife called out.

  “Or a coward,” Chaos sneered.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nix stiffen. Aurelia calmed her with a furtive whisper. He owed his sister when this was over.

  “Father, I will ask again. Why am I here?”

  “If you do not want to swear allegiance to me, then you will offer me equivalent flesh and blood.” A whip manifested in Ares hand. Metal barbs dangled from the end. Cal had survived its bite before. He wasn’t so sure he would this time.

  “Cal, no!” Nix stepped forward, but was quickly restrained by Aurelia.

  Ares’ attention switched to Nix. “Ah, yes, the little water pistol.”

  “Leave her out of this,” Cal warned. “I’ll agree to your terms, but I have a condition, too.”

  To Cal’s surprise, Ares didn’t laugh. He seemed thoughtful. “I see time in the mortal realm has taught you a few things. All right, let’s hear it.”

  “It’s for your ears alone,” Cal insisted.

  “Fine.” Ares enclosed them behind a barrier. Time outside the sphere stopped. Everyone outside the circle was frozen. Ares snapped his fingers. “Let’s not forget your little firecracker.”

  Nix popped into the bubble, took one look at Ares and lunged for him. Cal captured her in his arms and pulled her into his chest. “Trust me. Remember?” She stilled, and he relaxed his arms, but didn’t let her go.

  “What the fuck, Dad?” Cal blurted out. “Why are you doing this? I thought we made peace over this.”

  Ares held up his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. Chaos and Strife maneuvered me into this position. I must be getting soft.” He waved his hand dismissively at the thought. “Anyhow, I’m not reneging on my deal with Nereus. How is my beloved black sheep?” Ares eyeballed Cal’s body. If he was dismayed by Cal’s lack of a soul, he didn’t show it. “I see the Delian League has done wonders for your health.”

  Cal didn’t react to the criticism. He had heard most of it before. “We’re here at your request. What do you have to say to Nix?”

  “We’ll get to her in a moment.” Ares laughed. “You are so serious, Calder. Aren’t you the tiniest bit angry about what’s been done to you?”

  Nix surged forward, but Cal stopped her.

  Ares only laughed harder. “I love your spirit, Nix. If only my son shared your passion. Your zest for life. I fear it was almost castrated out of him by the Amazons. I’m sure he hasn’t told you that they flailed him within an inch of his life with Diana’s Whip.”

  Nix’s head swiveled around. She didn’t speak or rise to take the bait. And Cal was grateful. Not that he was off the hook. She would demand answers later.

  “Ares, as much as this topic seems to fascinate you, we do have a schedule to keep. So would you please get to the reason why you wanted to speak to me?” Nix gave his father a slow smile, the kind that usually appeared before she administered a beat down.

  “Very well.” Ares’ phone rang. He answered with an aggravated sigh. “What is it, Lord of the Gloom?” Ares turned around, ignoring them.

  Cal clasped Nix’s hand and gave it a squeeze. If only he could tell her the truth . . . that he loved her. He needed to stop trying to change the past. If he kept wishing for things that couldn’t be, he would go crazy.

  “Don’t tell me the rules! I know!” Ares’ angry outburst brought the world back into focus. Ares vanished the phone and closed the distance between them. “That was Hades. The jack wagon felt like he needed to mother my ass. Like I don’t know the code of silence is in force. Sorry about that, kiddies.”

  Ares beckoned them closer. “So Nix, tell me, how much do you know about your Uncle Memphis’ extra-curricular activities?”

  “Not much. Care to enlighten me?”

  “I would love to. Unfortunately, I would be interfering,”— Ares flashed air quotes—“but there’s nothing stopping you from satisfying your own curiosity, now, is there?”

  Cal couldn’t help but admire his father. Ares loved to bend or break rules as much as possible. He suspected that Hades had called, knowing it would provoke Ares into finding an angle to help them with their mission.

  “Well, we must get back to the others. Sorry about what comes next. No hard feelings. Okay, son?”

  The bubble disappeared, and time resumed where it had left off.

  Ares clapped his hands, and Aurelia escorted Nix off to the sidelines. Cal mouthed trust me to her again. She wouldn’t like what was about to happen next. And he wasn’t thrilled about it either.

  “Calder and I have discussed his issues. And now to the punishment part of our program.” Ares raised his arms. Two poles with shackles appeared on either side of Cal. The silver cuffs attached to Cal’s wrists. Another gesture from Ares and Cal was lifted onto his tiptoes.

  “What the hell is this?” Nix demanded.

  Ares turned to face her. “Unless you want to join him, I suggest you cling to your neutral status.”

  Cal’s shirt disappeared. He steeled his nerves to handle what was about to come next.

  Pain. Lots and lots of pain.

  Nix watched in horror as Ares cracked the whip over his head with a deafening bang. And Cal, he just stood there as if expecting it. What the Hades?

  “Do not interfere, Nereid,” Aurelia spoke softly into her right ear. “If you do, it will only go worse for Cal.”

  “I don’t understand.” Especially after Ares seemed so paternal when they spoke privately. Ares was a freakin’ psycho.

  “No, you wouldn’t. Our father is the God of War,” Aurelia sniffed.

  “Why is Ares allowing this to happen?” Nix swallowed the bile rising from her stomach. The whip cracked again, loud and sharp. Memories of war camp rushed back from the past. Whipping was the preeminent punishment for unruly students. She had excelled at unruly.

  “Chaos and Strife are behind it. They hate Calder. In their eyes, he is a traitor to the family for siding with the Delian League and its cause of peace.”

  “What about you? Do you feel the same way?” Nix stared at Cal. His face was devoid of emotion. Strife and Chaos circled him like two sharks. Other siblings broke the circle, ready to join in.

  “My views are more moderate. I enjoy the kill of a good business deal.”

  Ares shouted out to the assembly, “Calder, your punishment for continued disobedience is to receive a lash from each of your siblings.”

  Nix took a head count. Gods above! There were at least fifty. “This is barbaric.” She sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She cast out her power, seeking the closest water. A nearby harbor offered a plentiful supply.

  “Yes.” Aurelia seemed as unruffled as Cal. “He has survived this before. This time will be no different.”

  Nix let the words sink in. Before, Aurelia had said before. “How often does this happen?”

  “Oh, about every century. Thanks to Chaos and Strife, Cal is getting a double dose.”

  “Good Lord.” How could he stand it? The pain, the humiliation. Admiration for Cal’s bravery and conviction stirred Nix’s heart. Followed closely by fear. If his soulless body died . . . No, she didn’t want to think about it.

  “Who wants to go first?” Ares held out the whip to his children like they were taking turns at the playground. Chaos and Strife stood back. The cruel assholes probably wanted to go last when it would hurt Cal the most.

  No way. She was not standing by idly while Cal was flogged within an inch of his life. Not with the stakes so high. Nix beckoned the water.

  Not a Gods damned thing happened.

&n
bsp; “Don’t bother. When you agreed to neutrality, your power was temporarily suspended.” Aurelia stepped forward with an apologetic smile at Nix. “Sorry, I’ll go first. Places to go, deals to make.”

  Nix forced herself not to look away. If Cal could face the beating with dignity, so could she. Nix had been a bystander and recipient at war camp. Yet, she never became immune to the suffering of others. Witnessing Cal’s punishment made Nix feel helpless. Nix hated feeling helpless. At least when she had been on the receiving end of a whip, there was the pain to concentrate on. Not that there she had a choice. Agony had always taken all of her attention.

  Aurelia coolly collected the whip from Ares, hefted it in her left hand, and let it fly. The skin on Cal’s back striped red. He stared straight ahead, his body still, as if unaffected by the blow.

  Nix’s focus on Cal never wavered as brothers and sisters repeated the ritual over and over. A few were like Aurelia—indifferent—just wanting to get on with the rest of their day. Most of them were vicious bastards, striking Cal as hard as possible. After the first ten strokes, Cal’s composure started to break. Sweat covered his face, running down his neck. His legs quavered.

  Nix moved into Cal’s line of sight, hoping to steel his courage. His gaze latched onto her like she was the last lifeboat leaving a sinking ship. When his legs buckled under a thick pool of his blood, Nix whispered words of encouragement until only Chaos and Strife remained. She didn’t know them, but she hated them. She could recognize sadistic assholes from a mile away.

  “You are so weak, brother. To need a female to bolster your courage. If you embraced your heritage like the rest of us, you would be so much stronger,” Strife crooned, caressing the whip’s handle like it was a lover’s thigh.

  “Fuck. You,” Cal spat out.

  “No thanks.” Strife’s arm pulled the whip back. It impacted hard and fast. A fresh spray of blood burst from Cal’s back. Red rivulets landed on the floor with a gooey squelch.

  Nix almost cracked. Her control was a razor thin line ready to snap. She glanced at Cal. His chin was down on his chest. He heaved a large breath and lifted his head. His eyes bore straight into hers. Red flames danced in his pupils.

  Pull it together, she told herself. Cal needs me to be strong.

  Chaos moved behind Strife, his hand eager and outstretched. “My turn.”

  Unlike Strife, who seemed to take perverse pleasure in Cal’s pain, Chaos was more disturbing. His eyes told another story. They were dead, black pools. He was the kind of sociopath who tortured his victims and felt nothing.

  Without warning, Strife had his arms around her. She tugged away, but he held her fast. “Get off me!”

  Cal lunged forward, animated out of his stupor.

  “Brother. Look. He cares for this one.” Strife sniffed the skin along the back of Nix’s neck. “Her scent is divine.”

  “No sampling the goods without me, Strife.” Chaos leered. “Save some for me.”

  Flames erupted from Cal’s fingertips. His eyes blazed red. “Take your hand off of her. Now.”

  Nix glanced over at Ares, his face impassive—almost bored. Aurelia’s dire warning played back in Nix’s head. They were provoking Cal. If he lost control and broke free, the punishment would start all over again. Despite his mental strength, Cal’s body might not make it. Nix wasn’t willing to gamble on the chance.

  She relaxed in Strife’s arms, ignoring her own disgust. Nix was ninety-nine percent sure that Strife couldn’t actually hurt her. Not with neutrality in play. “Cal. Look at me. I’m okay. This is no big deal.”

  Cal growled, panting heavily. He stood up and pulled on the chains again. Damn it, she had to reach him.

  “Cal! Cut the shit already.”

  He stopped thrashing. When his gaze was finally focused on her again, she resumed talking. “One more strike,”— She wanted to gag at the thought—“Beers back at my place. I promise. Come on, no one has a better whip arm than Shyama. Am I right?”

  “Yes,” Cal ground out the word. He sank back into himself, his gaze distant again.

  When Strife ran his tongue down her neck, she acted like she didn’t care. Cal didn’t react, ignoring any further attempts to goad him.

  “Well, this is no fun.” Strife pushed her away. “Come on, Chaos. Do it and let’s leave this place.”

  The whip cracked against Cal’s back like a lightning bolt. Cal shuddered, but found the strength to stay upright.

  “All right, kiddies. Show is over.” Ares pointed to Chaos and Strife. “You two, find some third world country to fuck up and leave me alone. Daddy has important work to do. Off you go.”

  Magic swirled around the room. Small pops burst out as the sons and daughters of Ares whisked away.

  Aurelia was the last one left. She unclasped the shackles, Cal’s blood staining her fingertips. Task completed, she faced Nix. “I now release you. Go in peace. Take good care of him.” Then she vanished.

  Nix ran over to Cal and shouldered his weight as he tried to stay vertical. “Ares, you prick. They could’ve killed him. Are you trying to make him a Shade?”

  Ares shook his head. “I would not have let that happen.” He paused, his fingers tapping the bottom of his chin as if weighing a decision, then he smirked and placed his index finger on the center of Nix’s forehead. “Funny. I seem to remember one of your older sisters had the ability to heal wounds.”

  A warm sensation entered her skin. Only the effort of keeping Cal upright prevented her from knocking Ares’ hand away. “What did you just do?”

  Ares ignored the question. “Soothe his wounds and he will be better by nightfall.” With a flourish, Ares transported them to the driveway of the beach house where Cal’s car remained parked in the driveway. How considerate of the jerk.

  “Come on, let’s fix you up.” Nix helped Cal into the first floor washroom and sat him on the closed toilet lid.

  “I’ll be all right in a few hours.” He swatted at her hand as she approached with a towel.

  “Cal, let me help you.” Nix wanted to smack him. Stubborn, just like his father.

  “Lay me out on a beach blanket with a beer.” He stood up, spine straight, his back cut to ribbons.

  “You can’t go out on a public beach looking like a murder victim.” Nix turned on the shower. “Can you stand the water?”

  “Not really, but I’ll keep my back to the wall.”

  After a struggle shucking off his blood-soaked jeans, Nix left him to deal with his underwear. Funny, she would have thought he was the commando type.

  Gods. She disgusted herself. Thinking about his undergarments, she thought as she headed to the dank cellar. She tossed the jeans and his T-shirt into the wash. Too bad Ares hadn’t thought of providing Cal with clean clothes. She rummaged through the bedroom closets until she located swim trunks that would fit him. He couldn’t lay naked on the beach either.

  Even though she would enjoy that view. Gah! No more.

  While Nix waited outside the bathroom, Ares’ words replayed in her mind. Soothe his wounds. The solution came to her, as if the tumbler in a lock had been correctly manipulated. She closed her eyes and concentrated on healing. Seizing control of the water spurting from the showerhead, she sent tendrils of power snaking along the wounds in Cal’s back, blending her magic with the water in Cal’s blood and tissues.

  It took all her concentration, but the wounds knitted back together. Damaged sinews and shredded muscle repaired. Skin re-grew. Old scars were erased.

  The shower abruptly turned off. The shower curtain hooks clanked as it was ripped aside. Dark spots danced in her vision . . . the floor retracted, slipping out from under her feet.

  “Nix! Nix! Are you all right?”

  She heard Cal’s voice as if from a great distance away. She forced open her eyes and Cal’s concerned face filled her vision. She must have blacked out. She was ass flat, back against the wall.

  “I’m okay.” She leaned forward and gripped his arm. “
How do you feel?”

  A slow grin spread across Cal’s face. “Pretty damn good.”

  Nix punched him in the biceps. Since he was okay, he had some explaining to do.

  “What was that for?” Cal rubbed the spot, confusion on his face.

  “You tricked me. With the whole neutrality thing.” Nix folded her arms across her chest so she wouldn’t strike him again. Only harder.

  Realization dawned on Cal’s face. He extended his hand to her and waited for her to accept it. When she continued to scowl at him from the floor, he joined her against the wall. “Ahh, that.”

  “Yeah, that,” she tossed back at him. Guess she was angrier than she wanted to admit. “I thought we were in this together. Partners.”

  “We are. And I’m thankful that you trusted me enough to do as I asked without arguing about it.”

  Well, didn’t he just make her feel like a child stomping her feet? She couldn’t let it go yet. “You knew my power wouldn’t work. That I wouldn’t be able to help you.”

  Cal nodded. “Didn’t Aurelia explain to you that if you interfered magically, you could have been whipped, too?”

  “Yes,” Nix said tightly.

  “I remember war camp,”—He reached over and tilted her chin to face him—“and I would spare you that pain.”

  Nix hoped he couldn’t see the rapid fire beat of her pulse from the vein on her neck. The closeness of him, the scent of his clean skin, and, more importantly, the fact he remembered her past humiliations and wanted to spare her, made her want to close the distance and kiss him.

  She noticed Cal’s hooded gaze fixed on her mouth. Heat suffused her cheeks. Was it suddenly warmer? Or was it her imagination? Either way, the situation was too hot for her to handle. She stood on jittery legs, swaying back into the wall.

  Cal popped upright and steadied her, lust seemingly replaced by concern. “What did you do to me?”

  “I fixed your boo-boos. Help me to the kitchen. There’s cold beer in the fridge.”