OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3

by Lisa Beth Darling

  All of her fear of his breaking his neck was for naught because as far as Ares could see, the only thing Raven used his escape artist abilities for was busting into their bedroom late at night to squeeze between them or sleep on the floor at his mother’s side of the bed. He was sick and tired of rolling over in the middle of the night to make love to his Wife only to find Raven staring at him, almost daring him to continue.

  “You’re in this room until tomorrow,” Ares told the boy as he plopped him onto his bed. “No dinner, no dessert and no TV.” This was a popular Mortal World punishment, or so he’d come to understand. If left to him, he’d backhand Raven for his impetuousness and leave the boy crying in a corner. Alena wouldn’t hold with that. Raven adored the goddamn TV and that made this punishment effective. If Alena let him, Raven might sit there for hours upon hours staring at it. She tried to make him watch something she called Educational Programming but to Ares it was bunch of nonsense fantasy characters spouting gobbledygook. They did so to the point where Ares felt his IQ points dropping at a terrifying rate. Raven loved to watch anything War related, so like his father that Ares had to approve of that and he even marveled at some of the things the two of them saw on the idiot screen. With Alena, Raven watched baseball, more particularly the Red Sox and he loved it. He understood the game instinctively and showed a great affinity for it. If the team was playing at Fenway Park and the camera panned appropriately, he would shouted out; “You sat there!” when the box seats on the first base line appeared. That was indeed where Ares and Alena sat on their honeymoon watching the Sox play the Yanks and eating hot dogs.

  “NO!” Raven screeched. “Hun! Hun! Hun!”

  Ares thought for a second; if he remembered correctly The History Channel—Raven’s favorite TV channel—was running a program on Attila the Hun tonight. It seemed the boy knew it and was even anticipating it. “No Huns,” Ares countered, “why don’t you learn about the Spartans and the Trojans? Hector and Achilles?”

  Suddenly the mood and the temperature in the room turned cold as Raven turned those serpent eyes to his Father and uttered an ugly word. “Fag.”

  Ares was so shocked at the utterance, surely one Raven never heard in this house, that when Raven scrambled to his knees and tried to sprint past Ares he almost made it. “Who taught you that word, boy?” Ares pushed him back to the bed. Raven tried again, and again, and again, faster each time and with more force as he tried to fling himself past his Father. The boy was too slow to outwit Ares.

  “Wooo-man! H’ep!”

  “That’s ‘mother’ to you,” Ares sneered as he loomed over the boy. “Why would she HELP you after what you did?”

  In return, Raven just curled his upper lip and sneered chillingly equal to his Father’s. “My knife, my woo-man,” he cocked his head to one side, daring his Father to say otherwise. “Ach-en-ees…fag. All…mine.”

  “You wish,” Ares cracked, “it’s all mine and that includes you, little man.” He was irate at having one of his best warriors of all time insulted and called a ‘Fag’ by his own Son. “Achilles was a great warrior; you can only hope to be as great one day.” Ares turned his back and started for the door only to hear Raven make ready to pounce from the bed. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he warned but the boy didn’t listen. When Ares’ heard the slight whooshing sound of the air being broken behind him, he hurried his pace and stepped away from his flying Son, allowing the boy to crash face first to the floor. He let out a howl of indignation. Ares grinned at the boy’s plight and his cries as he glanced back over his brawny shoulder to see Raven had incurred his first bloody nose. The boy felt the hot liquid and ran his hand under his nostrils; when he came away with Ichor on his hand he started to wail. “Let that be a lesson to you, boy. Never react out of anger or lose your cool or you’ll get hurt.”

  Raven’s face turned red and puffed in anger as he started beating his little fists against the hard marble floor. “MINE! MINE! MINE!” Each strike of his fist grew in force until the floor under Ares’ feet was shaking.

  Ares picked him up by the collar and gingerly flung him back onto the bed. “You stay there,” he pointed angrily at his Son, “when you can be respectful, do what you’re told, and stop calling your mother woman, you can come out.” He turned on his heels and walked out, locking the door behind him and listening to Raven hurl himself against it in a vain attempt at escape. Before he reached the stairs the loud thud of Raven’s body hitting the closed door suddenly stopped. Ares turned back to see the gold doorknob gaining a new layer of ice. He stood there and watched to see just how clever Raven was. Not a year old yet and he understood the concept of the lock. Watching from the steps, Ares took in the sight of the doorknob flash freezing until it became brittle and then he heard the crash as Raven hit it with something on other the side. The doorknob shattered and so did the lock inside. The door swung open and there stood Raven, bloody nose and all, holding the fireplace poker from his room like a baseball bat.

  The boy, no bigger than a two-year-old, decided he could take on the 7-foot behemoth standing in his way and charged full-bore at Ares, poker held high on his shoulder, face fixed in anger. He gave out a mighty warrior’s cry as he came in to strike the blow.

  “Cute,” Ares remarked as he held up his hand, letting go a bolt of energy that knocked Raven backward and sent him sliding down the hallway on his ass. Raven wailed at the top of his lungs and now that he was no longer in his room behind the closed door, Alena heard the urgency in his cries and came running to her son’s aid as any good mother would.

  “What did you do?” she gasped as she bolted up the steps and saw Raven halfway down the hall with tears running down his face and his nose bloody. “Ares?”

  Before Ares could explain his parenting technique Raven called out, “Mah-mah-mom-eee! Mah-meeee! Mah-mee!” He watched as Alena ran to the boy, threw her arms around him, and picked up off the floor to hold him close and dry the tears from his cheeks.

  “Very clever boy,” Ares whispered, “impressive.” Raven had his mother wrapped tightly around that little finger of his and he wasn’t about to let her go.

  “You don’t have to be such a brute!” Alena admonished.

  “Me? The brute? He stabbed me! He charged at me with a fireplace poker after he froze the lock on his door.”

  Raven countered his Father’s words by wrapping his little arms around his mother’s neck, burying his face in her hair as he began settling down and sniffing away his own tears. This, of course, tugged at Alena’s heartstrings and brought her firmly to her son’s side.

  “He’s just a little boy; he doesn’t understand all of the power he has.”

  “He understands more than you give him credit for,” Ares warned as he watched her kiss the boy’s wet cheek and then take him into his room.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Who Are You

  I

  Two days after Raven turned nine months old Aphrodite gave birth to a daughter whom she named Trinity. Three days after the birth of the little girl, the Olympians gathered in the Great Council Chamber for her Acceptance Ceremony. As was the custom, this was the first time any of them laid eyes on the baby; Alena had to hold back a gasp as she looked down at the little bundle of joy all wrapped up in her pink satin blankets, staring back at her with mischievous onyx eyes from beneath a floppy mat of wavy raven hair. Finding she was grateful that she already knew Trinity’s parentage, Alena stepped back and vowed to do her best not to hold it against the baby. She was innocent and she was Ares’.

  Alena discreetly used Eros to keep tabs on his Mother throughout her pregnancy, and Aphrodite had not fared well. In fact, she’d taken to her bed and not left it before the end of her first trimester. Things had been very much touch and go from that point until delivery. Having had a hard time with Raven’s gestation, Alena could sympathize with Aphrodite. A Mother was Mother no matter how she got pregnant and that fact was evident on Aphrodite’s tired but smiling face as she stood
there with Apollo at her side beaming at her new little Daughter. It was difficult and she was still working on it, but Alena tried not to be angry with Aphrodite, either. The Goddess of Love had saved her life and Raven’s in Cernunnos’ Great Hall, and that was a fact Alena would not soon forget. Since Ares and Alena came to live on Olympus, other than nine months ago, Aphrodite made no move to make life miserable for them other than an occasional jab. Even those were weak and Alena thought they might be more for appearances’ sake than out of spite.

  There was much more going on here than was being revealed to Alena; although she wanted to ask Ares about all of it on more than one occasion, she’d kept silent knowing he couldn’t talk about it. Still, she felt confident that if she was patient and bided her time, she would see the Big Picture. Whether or not she liked it remained to be seen.

  Alena stood there gritting her teeth, holding Raven, who was already the size of your average two-year-old with a wide vocabulary, and witnessing the event. Ares, in his official role as Trinity’s Uncle, held the tiny girl for the one and only time in Trinity’s life; after this he wouldn’t even look at her. With Athena at his side, they held the baby girl and they promised to look after her all of her life, to be her guardians, her protectors, and, if need be, her parents should something untimely happen to Apollo and Aphrodite. Wicked thoughts of how to bring about the untimely demise of Apollo ran wildly through her head as Alena stood there, smiling sweetly.

  The Olympians graced Trinity with Divine Gifts and then finally the Designation was given to her. With a great flourish and high ceremony, Zeus proclaimed Trinity the Goddess of Harmony, and Ares couldn’t hold back the displeasure in his sneer. It wasn’t the Designation to which he objected, but rather the fact that there had already been a Goddess of Harmony: Harmonia, Ares’ and Aphrodite’s Daughter from long ago had been designated such. Ares loved his Daughter and she him. Through his unions with Harmonia, nestled deep in the Akmonion Wood far away from the view of the Gods, they created the warrior princesses known as the Amazones. Just like Artemis, there was no replacement for Harmonia: not in this world or the next.

  The party held afterwards was a Grand Gala with much feasting and drinking. The Graces sang and played the heavenliest music while the Muses wandered around with serving trays. Although she didn’t do it consciously, she never took anything from those trays and instead waited on herself by gathering her own food and drink from the table. She would never understand how the Olympians could treat such beautiful and delicate creatures as nothing more than slaves sent here for their own pleasures.

  Raven had attended one Family Dinner per month since his birth and, up until today, he’d pretty much been the center of attention at these things. While it was clear Zeus despised Raven, the others, save Apollo, took to the boy well enough. Tonight, while Hera fawned over her Grandson, letting him do whatever he wanted including throwing the food he disliked to the floor, the others seemed to give him only a cursory glance or two, preferring to keep their attentions on the baby being passed around the room and in whose honor the festivities were being held. That of course was only natural, but Raven was unaccustomed to sharing the spotlight with anyone. He showed his disapproval by jumping in front of Trinity at every possible turn or showing off in the middle of the room by lifting something heavy—such as Poseidon—with his bare hands or making it snow in the Great Council Chamber. With each new feat the attention turned to him, everyone would ooh and ahh and compliment the boy, but then it would wane and would return to Trinity.

  To say the least, Raven’s powers impressed Zeus although he never showed it. Tonight the God of Gods was also pissed off at his Grandson’s grandstanding and his parents’ lack of ability to control the boy. The more Raven tried to get the attention and approval of his Grandfather, the more Zeus ignored the boy. Sitting on his throne and watching with his old eagle eyes, he saw Trinity lovingly going around the room and next it was Alena’s turn to hold the baby. He leaned forward on his golden throne, eager to see what the Dark Fae would do when the baby was put within her grasp. Standing at the foot of the throne, Raven was making ice daggers form at the end of his arms when he followed his Grandfather’s interested gaze and growled, watching his mother take the noisy nasty baby into her arms with a smile.

  “What’s great ‘bout her?” Raven huffed in anger as the temperature in the Great Council Chamber dropped considerably. “She dudn’t even have any powers.”

  Enthralled by the sight of the Dark Fae cooing over the bastard daughter of her husband currently lying in her arms, outwardly Zeus ignored Raven. Instead, he wondered what was wrong with that woman? How much insult she could take in the name of Ares and her family? If it were Hera, she’d smile as she took the baby up, held Trinity close, and then snapped the girl’s neck in front of her mother’s horrified eyes. She would not stop smiling the entire time and she’d feel no guilt afterward. The boy at the foot of the Golden Throne was still waiting for an answer but Zeus wondered how Raven knew that Trinity was born powerless; the only gifts she’d ever have were those laid upon her at the ritual earlier today. That was very disappointing and upsetting to his plans for Olympus but, eventually, Ares would knock up the bitch he called Wife and be forced back to Aphrodite’s bed where he damn well better produce more acceptable offspring. “Powers or not, unlike you, she’s an Olympian, a Goddess born of two Gods.” Feeling that Raven was unworthy of the honor of having the God of Gods address him, Zeus never looked down at the boy as he spoke to his Grandson. Instead he continued watching the events unfolding across the room.

  As Alena sat on the plush sofa with Trinity in her arms, behind her Apollo was staring, and across the room from Apollo stood Ares by the huge hearth staring daggers at Apollo over a snifter of brandy larger than Ares’ head. Apollo caught sight of Ares out of the corner of his eye, his thin lips turned upward in a wicked little grin as he reached down and gave his crotch a good yank. Ares’ upper lip curled as he bared his teeth to Apollo, knocked down the last of the liquor in the glass and then pitched the snifter into the fire. Everyone in the room jumped or let out a little startled cry as they turned at the sound of shattering glass but all they saw was a brooding moody Ares. Nothing new there. They gave the God of War sour glances before turning back to the new baby.

  Except Alena. Her gaze went from the cooing baby in her arms to her Husband and then followed Ares’ line of sight to Apollo behind her. When her eyes met his, Apollo licked his lips before pursing them in her direction as though he were blowing her a lover’s kiss. Alena shuddered, turned pale, and turned back to Trinity whom she handed over to Aphrodite. “She’s beautiful, Lady, simply beautiful,” Alena muttered in a quivering voice as she lay the baby in Aphrodite’s waiting arms.

  Aphrodite Goddess of Love and Beauty may be self-centered, but she wasn’t stupid or unaware. The paleness of Alena’s face and quiver in her voice drew Aphrodite’s attention as she caught wind of what was happening and looked up at Apollo. “Why don’t you hold your Daughter?” the Lady of Love invited as she held Trinity out to Apollo, but the grin on his face turned into a sneer and he walked away from the scene, with Ares’ eyes following his every move.

  Even at Raven’s tender age, he understood that Ares was his Father and that Ares was an Olympian. Therefore Raven, too, was an Olympian. “Me too,” he asserted to Zeus.

  Again, Zeus didn’t turn his head or even his eyes in Raven’s direction. “No, not you, too; your half-breed bitch of a mother over there wouldn’t allow it.” Now his old eyes did turn downward to look past the bridge of his nose at the young boy staring back at him from the foot of his throne. “You will never be one of us, you will never be special like Trinity. No matter what powers you possess you will always be second-rate.” Inferior, but impressive nonetheless, he thought as he looked at the hardened ice at the end of Raven’s hand.

  Raven didn’t understand the term ‘second-rate’ but he was certain it didn’t mean something good. Pointing the shar
p edge of the ice-dagger defiantly to himself he asserted, “I am special. I am strong. I am Ooo-limp-ee-an.”

  Seeing the fire in the boy’s eyes, Zeus couldn’t help but be further impressed, yet facts were facts, and it was time Raven knew them. Leaning a little more forward still, the God of Gods said in a low, almost Grandfatherly voice so as not to attract attention, “Trinity is an Olympian, you are a mistake, an abomination that never should have been born.”

  Feeling deep inside that he should be afraid but still young and headstrong enough to ignore such warnings, the ice knife at the end of Raven’s hand turned into a razor sharp broadsword, he swung upward at his Grandfather, who flinched and pulled away from the blow. “I am strong,” Raven whispered, “you will see…Oh-ld Man.”

  With his heart racing away with his mind, Zeus kept his cool. “You’re a freak, now get that away from me before I kick your ass, little boy.”

  “Try it.” Raven’s strange eyes sparkled as he tilted his young head with the grin on his face, telling how happy he’d be if Zeus took him up on his offer.

  Cernunnos’ descendant or not, the boy had far too much of his Father in him for anyone’s liking, except possibly Alena’s. “B-ack o-ff.” The command came in a whisper but the whisper had all the strength of a small breeze as it blew back Raven’s hair and made him close his eyes against it.

  The muffled conversation caught the attention of someone else in the room; Eros came to lead Raven away from Zeus. “Come see the baby, Raven.”