by Jasmine Walt
I stopped and waited a few heartbeats, hoping she'd show her damn face. Tisiphone was staring at me, open-mouthed that I was so brash to say something like that to gods and goddesses.
“Hera, so help me...”
“I heard you,” a new voice said, sounding as angry as I felt. Okay, maybe not quite as angry as I felt. A beautiful woman dressed in white traditional Greek robes, with flowers interwoven in her hair, appeared in the garden. Like all of the other goddesses I've met, she was stunning, if not for the fact that she looked pissed. Unlike the other goddesses, she didn't wear anger well.
“Lamia captured Plutus and me,” I said. “Stephen Cross is on the way to kill Plutus so he can become the next god of wealth. You have to help us.”
She raised an eyebrow, obviously not impressed with my pleading. “Why should I help you? All you've been doing is insulting me. I don't take kindly to that.”
I threw up my hands. “Oh my God, is everything about your pride?” Behind her, Tisiphone nodded solemnly, to which Hera shot her a warning glare. “You don't want the balance to shift, yet you're not willing to step forward and fix it yourself.”
She narrowed her eyes up at me. “My beloved husband,” she said, nearly spitting the word out, “has forbidden anyone from interfering in the lives of mortals. That's why you were hired, wasn't it? And you can't perform your duties?”
I rolled my eyes. As if a mere mortal had any chance against the odds I was facing. “You're the Queen of the Gods, Hera, and you're going to take shit from your lying, backstabbing husband?”
Power emanated from her, angry and unyielding. She was on the verge of exploding, and would have a meltdown if I kept pressing. Good thing I was feeling a bit suicidal today. “Lamia—your creation, I might add—is about to help a demigod tip the scales. You remember demigods, right?” I pressed. “I thought you hated Hercules.”
“Don't mention his name,” she said threateningly. So I had touched another nerve, and she still wasn't budging.
Spineless bitch.
I laughed, slightly crazed. “All right, well, if you won't help me...” I sneered. There was another goddess that I was loath to call, but she was the only other one that came to mind. And if she wasn't going to help, then no one would.
“PERSEPHONE!” I roared. “Persephone, your only son is about to die!”
Hera put her hands on her hips. “I know you think that calling us like that works, but—”
“What?” another voice asked, coming into existence before me. Persephone. She looked peeved as well. I seemed to be on a roll today with pissing gods and deities off. At least they were listening. Kind of.
“Currently,” I told her, “Plutus and I are sitting in an abandoned warehouse waiting for our deaths because your husband’s bastard son is on his way to kill us.”
“I thought you were meant to protect him,” she accused, pursing her lips. “You came here and said that you would protect him. And now you want my help?” She eyed me like I was some sort of traitor.
“I’ve been trying,” I said. “But I’m only human.” I crossed my good arm across the bad one, as if to shield it from their stern glares, feeling a sudden blast of cold. “And so is Plutus,” I added softly.
That last sentence completely changed her. The color drained from her face and she had to hold onto a tree for support. I didn’t see the cold Queen of the Underworld any more. Instead, I saw the face of a mother who truly cared about her son. I actually didn’t believe the transformation myself, yet there it was. It was completely at odds with the woman I first met a few months ago.
“He said he’d be safe,” she said.
I knew who “he” was and I gave a short laugh.
“Yeah, well guess what? Hades was wrong.”
If it was possible, she paled even more. In fact, I thought she’d faint.
“Why should we listen to you?” Hera asked stepping in front of Persephone. Now, I got a glimpse of the hierarchy between these two women. Hera was the older, higher ranking goddess, and while Persephone was the queen of this realm, Hera was top dog.
Or top bitch, rather.
“After all,” Hera continued, “you’ve already failed us once. If you hadn’t screwed up, Plutus would still be immortal, he’d still be here, and he’d still be safe.”
That stung a bit.
“You don’t think I know that?” I asked. “No one feels worse about that than me. But no one—no one—cares more about him than me. I took a bullet for him, I’ve driven across the country for him, I’ve done things that most people wouldn’t do for anyone else. You know why? Because I love him.”
There. I put it out there, in front of the Queen of the Gods and in front of his mother. Both of them looked stunned, Persephone especially. I swallowed self-consciously. Now I really was in for it.
Hera didn’t smite me and I was still standing there.
“Hera,” Persephone pleaded, turning to other woman, who still wasn't yielding.
“There are reasons why my husband is doing what he’s doing,” Hera said.
“And because of those reasons, we’re about to die,” I said coldly. I wasn’t afraid. By now, it was a simple fact to me. We were going to die if we didn’t get help.
“Don't preach to me,” Hera sneered.
“And don't act like you're the victim when your husband cheats on you,” I spat, “if you're not willing to stand up to him. If you took out your anger on Zeus and acted like the queen you're supposed to be, then we wouldn't have monsters like Lamia around, would we?”
Hera looked like she was about to strike me. I'd never been hit by a goddess before, but I'm sure it would hurt. I'm sure that even though I couldn't touch anything here, she'd be able to hurt me.
Luckily, Tisiphone ushered me away. Persephone stepped in as well and started rapidly talking to her. I could tell from their rising voices that it was quickly escalating into an argument between them, Persephone actually defending me while Hera huffed and puffed like the Big Bad Wolf.
Tisiphone led me to the far side of the courtyard, out of earshot of the goddesses. At least I hoped.
“I'm still seeing if I can get the others to step in,” she whispered, barely audible.
“Like Telesphorus and Hygieia?” I whispered back, my heart fluttering with a bit of hope.
She nodded. “There are those who don't listen to Zeus. He doesn't pay attention to the minor gods and deities. I'm sure the twins told you that.”
I fought tears of relief from my eyes.
“I'm not sure how good they'd be,” she added with a sheepish shrug. “Plutus was a pretty powerful god, and if Stephen gets that power...” Her voice trailed off.
“Thanks,” I said. “Thanks for all your help. Please hurry.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Give me a hug,” she said, holding her arms out. I gladly met her embrace and we hugged, kind of awkwardly since we couldn't really touch. It was one of the few times we'd ever hugged, even though I'd begun to consider her one of the best friends I'd ever had.
“It's going to be all right,” she assured me. “After all, this is the stuff legends are made of.”
I woke up with a gasp.
28
Someone had slapped me again.
My head spun around my neck, stretching it to the absolute limit that it could turn. I coughed loudly, my cheek stinging with the impact. Someone had put my chair in an upright position: I was sitting straight once again. My shoulder was on fire, feeling worse than it had before I was knocked unconscious. I remembered that I landed on it when Lamia hit me. I probably broke the damn thing.
However, I managed to smile.
“What is it with everyone slapping me today?” I asked. I spat out some blood and looked forward, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness of the warehouse. It was darker now. How long had I been out? As I focused my eyes on the person in front of me, I realized that I had been out too long.
“I think it's because you're such an annoyin
g bitch, Saunders.”
Stephen's face swam into view in front of me, only it was a contorted, messed up version of his face. One side of it—the side that I realized looked vaguely like Plutus' face—was still its handsome, billionaire playboy self. The other though, the side that I fired my God Gun at from a point blank range, was barely recognizable as a face. It was a swollen red and purple mass that was shiny in some areas from stretched scar tissue. Where his eye should have been there was only a black, gaping maw. It looked like the entire side had melted off and the disease had spread across his cheek, ear, and the back of his head. It was worse than any horror movie I’d ever seen.
“Everyone leave us!” he yelled, and I realized that we weren't alone in this warehouse. In fact, there was all manner of different creatures and beings in this space. I looked, not having the time to register what all they were. Centaurs, minotaurs, ogres, giants—I couldn't process all of them at once. “I want to deal with them myself.”
The crowd dispersed, some of the more savage looking beasts glancing at me hungrily like I was their prey.
Sorry boys, it looks like it’s going to be just me and Stephen tonight.
Lamia appeared at his shoulder, looking as bored and disinterested as she normally did. “You know that my invoice is due directly after—”
“Yes, I'll pay you for a job well done,” he snapped without looking behind him.
She moved on legs that were human once again, towards the exit. Something glinted in her hands. With a sinking heart, I realized that it was my God Gun. My hope of having a weapon immediately dissipated.
She glanced behind her, directly at me. Very deliberately, she placed the God Gun on a shelf. She didn't say anything, just met my eyes and winked, as if to tell me something. It was so smooth, I thought I would have imagined it if not for the gleaming gun on the shelf.
I'll see you later, she mouthed as she turned to leave. I didn't know her motives, but this was incredibly strange. It was like she was offering us a way out.
I swallowed and turned my attention back to the deranged man standing before me. There was hope. I just had to know how to use it.
I opted for conversation.
“You've looked better, Stephen,” I coughed.
That's right Callie, when you're beyond scared, act natural. Which in this case, was trying to piss off Stephen Cross.
Stephen laughed. “So've you, Saunders.” He patted my sore cheek, and it tingled.
“It's because people keep hitting me...” My voice trailed off as I looked beyond him to a figure sitting slumped in his chair that was revealed when all of the beasts cleared out of the room.
“Pl...Plutus?”
My heart jumped to my throat as I looked at him. He didn't respond, didn't even shift at the sound of my voice. Even in the dim light, I saw that he had been stripped and beaten. Huge welts covered his skin, and certain areas were already purpling with huge, deep bruises. Someone had beaten him within an inch of his mortal life. His face wasn't much better. In fact, he looked oddly like Stephen at the moment.
And my heart broke for him.
“What did you do to him?” I cried. I struggled, but I was stuck in my chair. It only hurt my shoulder and my aching body more.
Stephen shrugged nonchalantly. “He was trying to interfere.”
“Plutus,” I called. “Plutus!”
He didn't stir. What was worse, he was so far away, I couldn't tell if he was alive or not. There wasn't a perceptible rise and fall of his chest. He looked...dead.
“If you killed him, so help me...”
Stephen loomed over. “You'll do what?” he asked, raising the eyebrow on the good side of his face. He smelled of sickness, like the bad flesh was rotting off his bones. “Your time to die isn't too far off, my dear.”
Then, surprisingly, he cut through my restraints with a pocket knife. I stumbled out of my chair, catching myself with my good arm. I made my way over to my lover, reaching out to him. I was afraid that I would feel a cold, stiff hand. You can imagine how relieved I was when his palm felt burning hot. With a fever yes, but corpses don't have fevers.
He stirred. I sobbed.
“Callista?” he asked weakly. His hand moved slightly, reaching out. I gently entwined my fingers through his. “Why...are you crying?”
Stephen grabbed the back of my shirt and hauled me to my feet. “She's crying because you're about to die, big brother,” he said.
“Please,” I pleaded. “Please. Just let him live.”
Stephen chuckled and leered at me. “Oh no, you see I can't do that. Not when he has the last bit of power I need to become a god. And finally be recognized as my father's son.”
I started laughing, despite myself. “Is that all this is?” I scoffed. “Because you wanted to be loved by Daddy?” I was hysterical, laughing until it wracked my body. “And here I thought it was because you wanted more money, or the power, or even immortality. But for Hades, of all people, to love you...” My laugh went even higher pitched. I really had lost it. “Sorry, but that's not going to happen. He doesn't even love himself.”
Stephen responded by backhanding me so hard I collapsed on the floor. Luckily, this time I didn't land on my shoulder, so while I had to fight it, I didn't black out. I did cough out blood though; I think he knocked a few teeth loose.
“Do you see what your lover is reduced to?” he asked Plutus, who didn't respond. He gestured grandly towards me. “A sniveling excuse for a human.”
My vision swam, but I noticed some broken wood near me. I had two options: see if I could wait for Tisiphone to bring the other gods or try to take care of it myself. The end of a plank next to me was sharp, probably sharp enough to kill someone if I aimed right. Was it enough to kill Stephen? The man took a bullet from the God Gun and lived.
“Pathetic,” Stephen was saying, his attention diverted to Plutus for the moment. “She's pathetic. Just like you.”
That was it. Something in me snapped. My decision was made.
I grabbed the plank with my right hand and scrambled to my feet. I moved without really thinking, and I didn't make a sound as I moved. I streaked to Stephen, moving as quickly as I could to end this once and for all.
Even though I moved as quickly as I could, I was too slow. Stephen caught my good wrist and laughed in my face. I realized that it was too late to do anything, and he held my entire body fast to him.
“And what are you trying to do?” he roared with laughter. Then, just to make a point, he kissed me, so roughly it probably bruised my already-swollen lips.
I struggled, but I couldn't do anything. Tears of frustration fell from my eyes, and I continued fighting him as much as I could. The man was like chiseled rock.
“You could have had it all,” he whispered directly into my mouth. “I was willing to have you as my queen. If you remember from that ball...”
“Fuck you,” I told him when he let me breathe again.
In answer, with a deft motion, he snapped the wrist on my good arm. I screamed in agony, and while part of that was in anger, it hurt like a son of a bitch.
Then, to make matters worse, he grabbed the falling plank and drove it through my chest.
That was when I knew I was going to die.
He released me and I crumpled to the floor again, a wooden plank in my chest and a wrist that was no longer connected to my body. Being stabbed this time was a lot different than when Charon speared me. I knew then that while I might have eventually died, it wasn't like this. There's a difference between lifeblood and wounds. Now I was mortally wounded, I wouldn't have long to live.
“Callista!”
Suddenly, Plutus was there, getting in between me and Stephen. In my haze, I saw that he was breathing heavily. He had broken free from his chair and even had the pieces of the arm rests still stuck to his arm. I don't think he noticed.
In fact, I think he had transcended to another state of being. This sure wasn't the Plutus that I had been with the past se
veral days.
I knew that he was mortal, but now he was pulsating with power that was completely foreign for a human. His eyes weren't their usual milky white—they glowed a fiery red. His muscles bulged with almost supernatural strength. I realized that he was something else entirely now. A moment ago, he was out cold. And now, he was some berserker beast.
He had special powers now.
“So you've woken up, big brother,” Stephen chided. He himself was poised, ready to attack. I could both see and feel that he was emanating power. Half of it was the warm, friendly power that I felt when Plutus was completing his duties as the God of Wealth. Half of it was something else that I had never encountered before.
The two brothers attacked, at speeds I didn't know were possible. Plutus was still mortal—how the hell was he moving that fast? Stephen was a blur, hitting Plutus with blows that would have killed someone else.
Plutus was able to block and parry each strike. With what, I didn't know. How he saw it, I didn't know. How he moved with his bad leg, I didn't know either. He was moving with the speed and heart of a vicious animal.
They weren't limited to the floor either. I swore I saw them jump off the walls and fly through the air. Like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. I watched them fighting, fruitlessly trying to keep up with them.
They were two men fighting to the death. Plutus had nothing to lose. Stephen would lose his shot at being a god.
I had to do something. I looked back at the God Gun on the shelf. I didn't know why Lamia had left there for me. And I could use it.
I started pushing with my feet towards the shelf, wincing with each movement. I left a smear of deep, dark blood on the floor. I didn't want to waste energy thinking about the horrible things that were happening to me.
I had to stop Stephen. I had to save Plutus.
If Tisiphone arrived with backup, I'd be okay, I just had to make it until then. Even if I was bleeding all over the place.
Oh God, I was dying.
