The gate.
It expanded, the two rings swirling in opposite directions, filling with shining colourful glyphs as it began to open in this world, hovering horizontally a few feet off the wet grass.
Ares dodged another round of fireballs and kept running at Amaury, intent on taking him down before he could try to use the amulet.
The gate had appeared because of his presence and proximity, not because of the amulet, but Amaury clearly thought it was the latter that had caused the gate to materialise. He had to keep it that way but stop him from taking things further, maintaining the ruse that the amulets had power over the gates, because he wasn’t convinced that Amaury was working alone.
He stepped, the world swirling into darkness and then coming back again, and appeared in the air above Amaury. He landed hard, catching the daemon in the chest with his boot and sending him slamming into the ground under his full weight. Amaury shrieked again and the scent of his tainted blood grew stronger in the cold air.
The daemon tossed his hand upwards and Ares teleported again, barely avoiding the blast of fire.
When he reappeared again, Amaury was on his feet and heading straight for him.
Ares closed the distance between them before he could use his power again and caught him hard with a right hook followed by a swift left uppercut. Amaury stumbled backwards and Ares advanced, punching and kicking, landing blows that would have killed a mortal, driving Amaury away from the gate.
It began to shrink again, its light growing dimmer.
Amaury looked beyond Ares, the colourful swirling lights of the gate reflected in his eyes, and growled.
Ares turned the tables on him, using his distraction to his advantage.
He lunged for the silver amulet he held and managed to catch hold of the chain.
Amaury yanked it away from him and the chain snapped, but Ares didn’t give up. He made another lunge for him, this time going for the gold and red amulet he wore around his hand, the one linked to his power. He had to stop him from trying to open the gate one way or another.
Amaury swept his hand out and an invisible blast struck Ares in the chest. The world took a tumble and then exploded in pain as he hit the ground hard and rolled.
He stopped himself in time to see Amaury sprinting towards the gate.
Daimon flung both hands out, unleashing several spears of ice. They impacted around Amaury, slamming into the earth and tearing it up. Ares pushed onto his feet. One of the spears struck its target, catching Amaury in his right calf, and the daemon shrieked and turned bright glowing eyes on Daimon.
Not Daimon, Ares realised with dread.
He would go after Megan.
He would force her to heal him.
Daimon broke ranks and moved forwards, placing distance between him and Megan.
Ares focused on her and stepped. The darkness parted to reveal her standing before him, her eyes wide and fixed beyond him, horror shining in them.
Daimon’s agonised scream hit him, chilling him to the bone, and he turned.
Amaury stood a few metres away, his hand locked around Daimon’s throat.
Daimon fell to his knees and flung his head back, crying out again as Amaury’s hand shone with dazzling rays of blue and white.
“Daimon!” Ares kicked off, intent on helping his brother, and something slammed into his chest.
Pain tore through him, knocking him to his knees.
He arched backwards and roared at the night sky, an inferno coursing through his flesh, blazing in his veins. The familiar heat of fire flickered over his hands and the world brightened, bathed in bright hues of orange and yellow.
Ares dropped his chin and snarled at Amaury.
The daemon released his brother and Daimon fell into a heap on the grass.
Ares roared and unleashed twin swirling funnels of fire.
Amaury leaped backwards, grinned and swept his hand out. A shield of ice formed in front of him and Ares’s fire slammed into it, instantly melting it but dying at the same time.
Marek had been right. Amaury’s power had its limits. He had taken Daimon’s but had been forced to give up Ares’s to do so. It hadn’t changed a thing though. They still needed to capture Amaury and take the amulet back, and Daimon’s power too, and it was still a battle of fire against ice.
Megan was past Ares in a heartbeat, sprinting towards Daimon where he lay unmoving on the ground.
Ares stepped and appeared in front of Amaury, releasing another blast of fire just before he finished teleporting. It caught Amaury in the chest and knocked him flying into the darkness. Three spears of ice shot out of the shadowy night and Ares targeted each one with a spear created of fire, melting them before they could hit their marks.
“Daimon?” Megan said, her voice loud in the darkness, and Ares forced himself to remain focused on his fight against Amaury.
Amaury reappeared again and made another break for the gate.
Ares teleported and appeared in front of him, blocking his path, and threw his right hand forwards, unleashing an orb of fire. His left followed it, releasing a second one as Amaury worked to block the first. The second orb hit the wall of ice he hastily constructed and blasted through it, catching Amaury’s right shoulder and sending him spinning.
“I want him dead!” Daimon growled and relief poured through Ares.
His brother sounded pissed but he was alive.
“Gladly,” Ares said loud enough for him to hear and attacked again, countering another blast of ice that Amaury sent shooting towards him.
Ares swept his hand in a low arc, igniting a burning trench between him and Amaury.
Amaury laughed. “This is not going to stop me.”
Ares hadn’t intended it to. He wanted to corral the daemon and force him to move to a spot on his right, near the trees and away from Megan and Daimon.
“I don’t need you to heal me, Woman.” Daimon’s gravelly voice cut through the night and Ares struggled to focus.
He didn’t want Megan to use her ability on him either, and not because the thought of her touching his brother sent him into a black rage. Healing him the night they had met and afterwards when he had paid penitence had taken so much out of her and he was worried that doing the same for Daimon would hurt her.
Amaury teleported closer to Daimon and Megan, and Ares swept his hand out again, forming a flaming barrier between them and the daemon, driving the daemon towards him and the gate. Amaury snarled and ran at him, his hands pale with frost.
Ares waited.
“Don’t touch me,” Daimon growled and Ares silently backed up those words. What Megan wanted to do was a noble and beautiful thing, but it would leave her weak and vulnerable when he needed her strong. “Stubborn woman.”
Ares agreed with that and caught a glimpse of Megan with her hand on his brother’s neck.
He growled and teleported.
It was hard to ignore his instinct to step to her and not to his opponent, and he ended up between the two of them, his back to Amaury, leaving the gate wide open.
Amaury skidded to a halt in front of the gate where it stretched over the grass, the two main rings turning slowly in opposite directions. The daemon pushed his hood back, the colourful light from the gate playing across his face, and held the silver amulet out. The black part of the disc shone.
Ares kicked off and slammed into Amaury’s side, grunting as he took the daemon down. He landed on top of him, cocked his right fist, and smashed it hard into his face. Amaury raised his hands to protect himself, black blood pouring from his nose, and Ares thanked him for letting down his defences.
He snatched the silver amulet and tore it from the daemon’s grasp before he could react, and focused on the gate.
It began to shrink again, the two rings turning quickly and the glyphs disappearing.
Amaury snarled and shot a hand out at him.
Ares evaded it and tried to grab the golden amulet he wore against his palm, but the daemon relea
sed a blast of frigid air, forcing Ares to teleport in order to avoid a direct hit.
He landed on the grass a few metres away from the rapidly shrinking gate and breathed hard, his eyes locked on the place where Amaury had been and was now gone.
Teleported.
Where?
Long twisting spikes of ice shot out of the air, heading not for him but for Megan and Daimon.
Ares stepped and appeared in front of them, sweeping his arm out at the same time and using all of his strength for form a thick dome of fire over his woman and his brother.
The flames faded and water rained down on him, drenching him and the others.
Amaury ran.
Ares focused on him, intent on giving chase before he could escape.
“Stop!” Daimon’s voice cracked the heavy silence and sent a chill down Ares’s spine.
He turned slowly, his heart a dark throb in his chest, fear crawling over his skin. His eyes fell on his younger brother and then dropped to Megan.
She lay on the ground, curled up on her side, her skin as pale as the moon as she shivered violently.
Daimon looked up at him.
“I tried to stop her.”
Ares fell to his knees beside her and reached out to pull her against him. He barely stopped himself in time.
He had his power back.
He couldn’t touch her.
He stared at her, heart clenching in his chest, mind swimming.
How had this happened? It wasn’t the drain from her power. She was freezing, her lips dark and skin pale. She had mentioned he was hot before and he had thought nothing of it at the time but it haunted him now.
What if Amaury had taken his power but not entirely?
His power had become a physical part of him and so had Daimon’s ice.
Was it possible that they had retained part of their power, the one that changed their body?
“You still feel cold, don’t you?” he said to Daimon and he nodded.
“Not as much as before, but I still feel it. I tried to stop her.” Daimon’s pale blue gaze slid back to Megan, filling with remorse. “I no longer envy your days without your power. I’m damn well getting mine back.”
Ares looked down at Megan and then at his brother. “Go and get the son of a bitch. I’ll be right behind you.”
Daimon stood, his eyes remaining fixed on her. “We good here?”
“We’re good.” Ares forced himself to nod.
Megan had chosen to heal Daimon. Neither of them had known that she would end up freezing. He had no reason to be angry with his brother even when he wanted to blame this on him.
Daimon disappeared.
Ares stared at Megan, unsure what to do.
She had been able to withstand Daimon’s ice when he’d still had his power.
He prayed to the gods that she could do the same with fire.
CHAPTER 24
Megan regretted insisting she healed Daimon the moment her hand touched his throat. She should have listened to his protests and seen there was a reason he didn’t want her to touch him, and it wasn’t just because he was stubborn and a man, and the combination of those two things meant he couldn’t show weakness in front of a woman.
The heat leached from her fingers and then cold swept up them, creeping towards her palm where it rested over his Adam’s apple. She focused, hoping it would combat the cold, but it only made it worse. Her fingers numbed and then stiffened, freezing and burning at the same time.
A fiery wall surrounded them and the heat of it warmed her for a brief few seconds but the moment it faded the ice in her blood spread up her arm and she collapsed, chilled to the bone.
“Stop!” Daimon snapped and Ares turned and looked down at her and was by her side in an instant, a pained look in his eyes.
Her teeth chattered, clashing loudly enough to fill her mind with the sound, and she held herself, fighting the cold and refusing to give in to it. She stared at Ares, watching him interact with his brother and then return to looking at her. Daimon disappeared, leaving them alone.
The edges of Ares’s irises glowed red, the fire spreading towards his pupils. She focused on them, on the determination that shone in them and the love. He would never hurt her, she knew that in her heart, but she had seen him fight with his fire.
He had it back now.
If he touched her, he would hurt her, regardless of what he wanted.
She shivered and held herself, her clothes soaked by the water that had fallen when Ares had protected her and Daimon from the ice Amaury had hurled at them.
“Freezing,” she mumbled and blinked, staring into Ares’s flaming eyes.
“I know, Sweetheart,” he whispered, his deep voice soft and warming her to a degree. He closed the distance between them and kneeled beside her on the cold damp grass. He ran his gaze over her, his expression intent and serious, his lips compressing into a thin line. She swallowed when he held his hand out over her. “Roll onto your back. Can you do that for me?”
Fear lanced her but she did as he ordered, slowly easing onto her back and trying to convince herself to relax and trust him.
“Stay still now and not a sound, understand? I need to focus. This’ll take a lot of concentration.” He lowered his hand towards her and she shivered despite her attempts to keep still.
His dark eyebrows knitted together and his eyes glowed brightly, the fire flickering in his irises turning from red to burning gold.
The air around his hand shimmered.
Heat caressed her body, barely noticeable at first but then as warm as the sun on a summer’s day. He moved his hand and her clothes dried wherever he went, her skin warming and muscles relaxing. Stunned didn’t cover how she felt as the ice in her veins melted and her shivering subsided.
She stared up at him, amazed once more by his power. The concentration it took for him to control his fire was visible, the effort behind what he was doing etched on his handsome face for all to see. His eyes brightened, turning to flickering white and gold, and he snatched his hand back.
“It’s all I can do.” He breathed hard and the fire in his eyes began to fade.
Curiosity got the better of her and she touched his hand before he could move it beyond her reach.
It was so warm, hotter than before.
“No.” He tried to yank his hand from her grip but she held on to him and he stilled.
His eyes locked on their joined hands and she stroked his fingers, studying them. Such heat. She liked the warmth and how it flowed into her.
“How?” he whispered and she wanted to ask the same thing.
She didn’t have an answer for him. He raised his other hand and covered hers, trapping it between them. Glowing amber flames appeared and licked her skin, and she expected them to burn her but they didn’t.
They tickled.
“Warm,” she said, fascinated by this turn of events.
“Immune.” He frowned and she wasn’t sure whether to believe that.
It sounded too good to be true.
Was it possible that she could withstand his heat? She had managed to touch Daimon without hurting herself too, something that had surprised Daimon, Marek and Ares at the time.
The flames grew and spread. The cuff of the dark red jumper she wore beneath his coat caught alight.
“Ow.” Megan tugged her hand free and swatted the burning cuff, putting the fire out.
She pulled the unharmed sleeve of his coat and the charred woollen jumper back and stared at the blistered skin on her wrist.
Ares reached for her and then drew back again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.”
She placed her hand over the burn and looked up into his eyes, hating the pain that shone in them. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t hurt me.”
“It was my fire that burned your clothes.”
“My own curiosity more like. Why didn’t you burn me?” She glanced down at her hand and then his, tempted to reach out and touch hi
m again.
“I did.”
“No, I mean... when I held your hand. It was hot and it tickled, but look...” She held her hand out to him. “It didn’t burn.”
“I don’t know.” He ghosted his hand over hers and warmth caressed her skin. “I burn all who touch me with the exception of Daimon, and sometimes Keras.”
Sadness filled her at that thought and the years he had lived without physical contact.
“And me.” She drew the sleeve of the coat and her jumper back, and raised her hand so her palm was facing his.
He stared at them when she pressed them together and his fingers slipped between hers, linking their hands. Heat engulfed her hand but it didn’t burn her, not even when small flames flickered over his skin.
Relief flowed through her with the heat of his touch and she smiled as her fears melted away, all of her tension leaving her. She had been worried that his power would somehow come between them and force them to part before they ever reached the Underworld where they could be together. She hadn’t wanted to lose him and now she had no reason to fear that she would.
She looked up into his eyes. They were golden and flickering, locked on hers with such intensity that she felt hot all the way to her soul and knew without a doubt that nothing would come between them.
“I guess we’ll just have to get me some new clothing made of the same material as yours,” she whispered and he finally smiled, the sight a balm for her aching heart as it chased the remaining storm clouds from his eyes.
His phone beeped in her coat pocket and she released his hand and pulled it out.
A scowling picture of Daimon filled the bright screen.
At least Ares’s power wouldn’t come between them. She couldn’t say the same about daemons and brothers.
He took the phone from her, his expression one of sheer concentration as he swiped his thumb over it to activate it. He had probably melted a lot of phones in his years. She couldn’t imagine how hard he had to concentrate just to do daily tasks that took no effort for her—using remote controls, opening windows and doors, having a shower. The list was probably endless, and exhausting for him.
He handed the phone back to her. It was hot. She slid it back into her coat pocket and Ares stood.
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