OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3

by Lisa Beth Darling

  At the shoreline where the waves lapped the sand, Ares turned around and shrugged his broad shoulders, not having a clue what Raven was talking about.

  II

  Raven didn’t show any signs of opening up to his Father. They just sat around the campfire with Ares telling old battle tales of glory and Raven staring at him uncomfortably. Raven liked to listen to Ares talk of days of old and of wars fought and hard-won, but tonight they bored him. Halfway through a story about Achilles, Raven got up and walked off. Ares was highly insulted as he let out a low growl and then followed his Son into a wooded area of the island.

  “This is all pointless. I want to go back to Olympus.”

  “Pointless?” Ares mused as he stopped walking and thought for a while. “If you were not an Olympian, how would you feed yourself? Shelter yourself?”

  “I am an Olympian; why should I pretend I’m mortal?”

  “Among other reasons, because you are part mortal.”

  “A sliver, so what?” Raven shot suddenly as he raised his hand to hold his thumb and forefinger the merest space apart, “like that much, it shouldn’t even count!”

  “But you are and it does, so get over it. Stop being pissed off over something you can’t change.”

  “Get—her muddled blood’s why they like Trinity better’n me,” Raven pointed to himself, “they think she is better’n me. That stupid little bitch doesn’t even hardly have any powers. I hate her.” His eyes smoldered and narrowed on his Father. All of the Olympians doted on Trinity, thinking her better than him just because she was a full-blooded Olympian, but the girl was weak. She was feeble and pathetic. The stupid little bitch wasn’t good for anything except maybe fucking and breeding, she just didn’t know it yet. He was working on that when Trinity suddenly stopped showing up at the Fortress and, in his frustration, he turned on Onya.

  Ares understood Raven’s jealousy toward his Sister. Trinity was, after all, immediately Accepted by the Olympians as one of their own, whereas Raven would have to go through the Trials if he chose, and that was his mother’s fault; he didn’t blame Raven for harboring a bit of resentment towards Alena for it. “Trinity is no better than you. You are just as much Olympian as she is.”

  “I know!” Raven cried. “I’m the best! Aphrodite should have been my mother,” he scoffed and folded his arms across his still-forming chest. “It’s all her fault they hate me! And I hate her.” That was the truth; he felt as though he should love his mother and even as though he wanted to, he felt she betrayed him by not letting him be accepted by the Olympians. Now he was an outcast just like her. “How could you just stand there when she wouldn’t let ‘em accept me?”

  It looked as though there was an important detail Apollo left out of his conversations with Raven. “Zeus wanted to make you the God of the Damned; were you aware of that?” Ares could tell by the sudden shock on the boy’s face that this was news to him. “Zeus tried to curse you as he accepted you, that’s his way. Your mother wouldn’t allow it, and I agreed.”

  Even at his young age, being God of the Damned didn’t have a lot of appeal. Still, if it weren’t for Alena, he would be an Olympian. “Then how could you let that filthy Celtic whore be my mother in the first place?”

  Raven was beginning to teeter dangerously on the edge of insolence. “Celtic whore? That woman is my Wife, boy, don’t you forget it. I won’t have any man speak badly of her, least of all you,” Ares warned forcefully as he struggled to keep his temper in check. If anyone else said that he’d punch them in the face and had come close to doing just that to Apollo several times over the years, only to have Zeus stop him. “You who she fought valiantly to bring into this world and holds so dear to her heart.” It was intolerable when Apollo badmouthed Alena by muttering those exact words whenever Raven was within earshot and Zeus backed him up; Ares was determined not to let those thoughts get a foothold in his Son’s head.

  “The women,” Raven led, “don’t tell me you love my mother when I know you’ve fucked all of them, haven’t you? Does my mother join you? Is that why you keep her? She’ll do whatever you want to whoever you want…maybe she’s…sturdier than the others, you can fuck her harder, put it in deep—”

  The next thing Raven knew his cheek stung and there was a sound like thunder ringing in his ears. He raised his hand to his stinging cheek as tears welled up in his eyes.

  “I have had enough of that disgusting vulgar word coming out of your mouth! I’ve heard you say it for the last time, you got that, boy?” Ares steamed. “Next time, I’ll cut your tongue out and let it flop around on the ground at your feet. As for Onya and the others, first, you keep your hands off of them; they are not for you. They’re mine. Second, I always treated them well. I almost never meant to kill any of them, but yes, it happened. Lastly, I don’t fuck them anymore because I have your mother. When you fall in love, you’ll understand. I don’t need or want any other woman now.”

  “Except when you’re fucking Aphrodite on the sly, right Pop? Is that why you made a new family, a better family with her, why-”

  Another hard smack of Ares’ hand across Raven’s face, this one split the boy’s lip open as it sent him reeling backwards. “That little…girl…is no daughter of mine…” Ares growled.

  “She is so!” Raven declared as he swiped the Ichor from his bottom lip. He wasn’t dissuaded by the sight and kept pressing. “Does mom know? She join you?” he asked with a hopeful raise of his eyebrow. “I bet you like that, don’t you? I think I would.”

  “Want another smack?”

  Raven spit out a big wad of Ichor. “Nah, that’s all right. I got your point. You getting mine?”

  “What? That you’re a horny spoiled jealous little prick? Yeah, I got it.”

  “I know Trinity is my Sister.”

  “Do you?” Ares glanced down at the scar on his forearm as he wondered how much he could get away with saying before it began to burn. “How?”

  “She smells just like Eros,” Raven growled, “she sorta looks just like you. I don’t give a shit, but me, what’d I do, why me?” Raven refused to back down. If Ares brought him here so they could talk, then Ares was going to get a talk that would knock him off his big arrogant feet. “Apollo says you didn’t have’ta get her pregnant, you could’a just fucked her but you didn’t, you chose to make her my mother. Why?”

  “Yes, I see you’ve been talking to Apollo.” Ares went to great lengths to keep Raven and Apollo separate, but the damn family get-togethers got in the way. Ares often caught Apollo with Raven off whispering in a corner. He went to break it up as soon as he saw it but the damage had already been done. “What else does he tell you?”

  “He doesn’t have to tell me anything,” Raven whispered vehemently and then pointed to his head for the second time, “I already know but…why her? Is she that good? I hear you howl, I’ve watched what she does.”

  “I know,” Ares returned darkly as he fought to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head and snapping Raven’s neck in anger. “You’re just lucky your mother doesn’t or she’d poke your eyes out, boy.” Ares tried to retain his anger and took a seat on a nearby rock. “I should do the same but I know you’re curious so I let you get away with it.” That and sex to an Olympian wasn’t the same as sex to a mortal. In the Old Days, if Ares stayed with Raven’s mother he might have reached out and bent the woman over right in front of the boy. When the boy was old enough, Ares might have invited him to join in. Out of respect for Alena and the world she was accustomed to Ares kept those urges under control, but it wasn’t easy.

  That was news to Raven, who thought he’d been so sneaky and sly about his nighttime activities at his parents’ door. Still, he wouldn’t be shamed into deterrence. “She’s a good fuck, Father, but she’s no goddess,” Raven ventured. “She’s a slave.”

  Gritting his teeth Ares stood up and grabbed Raven by the throat. “Last time, boy, that woman is my Wife, she is your mother and you will give her the respect sh
e’s due or I swear your life will be drastically shortened.” The God of War picked his Son off his feet as he began crushing Raven’s windpipe. “Got it? Alena was born free, not a slave, not a servant, free.”

  “That why you don’t teach her how to open the Gates? Cuz she’s free?” Raven’s lungs searched for breath and were coming up empty as the look on his Father’s face grew darker, which only spurred on his insolence. “Pretty and sweet as she is, she’s just a whore existing only for the pleasures and whims of any Olympian who wants a piece of her. Even if it is only you she’s still a whore…your whore.”

  “I am the only man your mother has ever known.” Ares’ hand tightened around his Son’s throat as he gave Raven a harsh throttle. “That means she’s not a whore.” Ares lips hardly moved but his words were clearer than crystal. “Not mine or anyone else’s. I love her so I made her my Wife and your mother.”

  Raven didn’t believe it; if Ares loved Alena he wouldn’t be screwing Aphrodite on the side. If Alena loved Ares, she wouldn’t tolerate him doing so. She’d call him out on it and put a stop to it. While he wasn’t exactly sure what was going on between them, Raven had far too many suspicions to believe it was love. “One of you is just using the other. It’s all a game.”

  Ares released his grip, dropping Raven to the forest floor as he began pacing. All of the Olympians were terrified that Alena had not fallen in love with Ares but used him to infiltrate Olympus. She was there on some dark nefarious purpose and trying to use Ares to get even with the Olympians. That was bullshit and he knew it. Alena had no idea of just how finely intertwined the pasts of the Olympians and the Fae were. “What other lies did Apollo tell you?”

  On his knees gasping for air, realizing he wasn’t strong enough to take on his Old Man just yet, he looked up at Ares from over the top of his wild eyes. “Apollo doesn’t lie to me; he answers my questions.”

  “I bet he does,” Ares growled, knowing Apollo had been happy as shit to feign friendship and pretend to take Raven under his wing, playing the sympathetic Uncle all the while making up lies. Apollo didn’t just start talking; Raven went to him with questions. “When did you start having the dreams?” That had to be it, Raven’s genetic memory was kicking into OverDrive and he didn’t understand what he was suddenly experiencing. Ares began having the dreams when he was a little older than Raven and they confused the hell out of him, they were so damn real, and vivid. It was as though he was actually THERE, he could smell, hear, taste, and feel everything around him, almost as though he lived in another world when he slept. Back then, he’d still be able to catch his Father’s kind ear and he spoke with Zeus a few times. After that, the dreams began to fade and Ares hoped the same would be true for Raven. The anger and confusion in him would subside.

  Ares had another reason for being interested in Raven’s dreams: Alena and her sudden sunny disposition along with the lack of sleep and the new lines on her face. Raven was a very unique boy, half Olympian, one-quarter Human, one-quarter Fey, with one-quarter of that from Cernunnos’ bloodlines. The boy was in many ways a walking disaster just waiting for a place to happen. As Raven slept and dreamed of things that bewildered and amazed him, Alena with her strong power for empathy sensed his dreams, but she didn’t understand them. She couldn’t grasp why she felt so lonely, empty and cold. In some bizarre way as she lay there shaking or jumped the hell out of him in the middle of the night, she was acting out what she was sensing in her mind. “Tell me.”

  Raven didn’t want to tell his Father about his dreams; they were like little secrets, wonderful treasured little secrets that he wanted to hoard, keep precious, sacred and close. Besides, he was afraid Ares wouldn’t tell him the truth and Apollo would. Apollo disliked Alena but when they were alone, Apollo was good to Raven, slung his arm over the boy’s shoulder, spoke sympathetically to him about his predicament and how it wasn’t his fault but hers—that wicked little Fae. Apollo told Raven about the Trials he would face if he decided to prove himself worthy and take his rightful place at the Council Table. Raven decided to start his end of the conversation with something other than the real Olympus. A little test to see what Ares would tell him and how much before they got to the good stuff.

  Raven sat bare-chested and cross-legged on the forest floor. “Olympus, the real one, it’s in the stars, it’s not this crappy place. It’s beautiful. Extraordinary.”

  Although he’d never been there, Ares understood that the original Olympus was close to Paradise at least for those who once ruled there. The God of War nodded his agreement and waited.

  Eyes sparkling with knowing, Raven leaned forward. “You brought them here, the Fae, the Nymph, the Graces and Muses. All of those beautiful creatures, you brought them here as slaves to serve your…every whim. Ohhh and they did,” he whispered darkly.

  Ares let out a long breath; it seemed Raven’s mind had been working overtime and getting straight A’s. “The Olympians don’t speak of this, do you understand me? No matter what thoughts Apollo has put in your head. We will speak of this now and if you have questions in the future, you will come to me privately and we will talk. But you are never to talk about this to anyone else, least of all your mother.”

  “Or what?” Raven clearly saw why Ares wouldn’t want Alena to know the sordid details and he weighed the pros and cons of doing just that.

  “Or someone will have to kill you,” Ares returned seriously as he looked the unruly boy dead in the eye. “Everything we are about to discuss happened a thousand years before even Zeus was born. It is a dark time in our history and it is the most important secret you will ever keep. Once I have explained everything to you, you will stop treating your mother—and the women—so poorly.”

  “Whatever. Do you really wanna know? Fine. Here’s the deal, Pop. Olympus is a place in the stars, on another planet way far away from here.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dazed & Confused

  Upon Alena’s return from visiting with her neighbors, the women treated Alena to a Day at the Spa complete with facial, manicure, pedicure, wine, good food, good talk, and massage. Alena felt as though she weren’t even present. She tried to tell herself that it was all so relaxing and that was why it was hard to concentrate, but that wasn’t it. No, it was almost as though she were asleep while she was awake. Everything around her was viewed through a haze, making it seem so very far away. As she sat there having her hair washed and cut, her toes massaged and her nails painted, her mind was clouded with unpleasant thoughts that seemed not to be her own but those of someone else, almost like eavesdropping on someone’s telephone conversation. All day long the feeling lingered; she could not shake it. It made her feel tired, small and afraid. Then again, it seemed she always felt that way these days.

  After a delicious steak dinner she found the gift Ares left on her pillow; his favorite vest and a long-stemmed red rose to help her on her way to sleep. The day had been too long and there were so many unanswered questions that sleep was unkind. Alone in her bed, clutching Ares’ vest tightly to her lonely breast, Alena tried to sleep but she was too restless. The image of the Weeping Willow kept crawling through her mind as the strange name echoed in a siren’s call.

  Climbing out of the bed, Alena went to Ares’ dresser. When Ares asked her to marry him he took away the necklace Cernunnos gave her when she married him. Ares gave her the glittering ruby and diamond necklace she so proudly wore every day. He’d gone the extra distance and put in a medallion similar to the Weeping Willow she’d once worn but this one was bigger and it had a wolf sitting beneath the tree, guarding it from harm.

  She opened each drawer and gently but thoroughly rifled through them. “Where did he put it?” Not in any of the drawers. Perhaps he hid it in his closet. Ares collected a vast amount of clothing over the years; Alena tore through all of them, leaving no pocket unturned.

  Nothing.

  He must have put it somewhere. Unless he destroyed it, and she hoped that was not the case. Alena
had a nagging feeling way down deep under her skin that the medallion was more important than any of them ever realized. Alena turned the room upside down and came up empty. She threw clothes from racks and books from cases, overturned drawers and dumped their contents onto the bed, but it was no use.

  “Where is it?” He’d made it disappear right before her eyes and for all she knew he really could have banished it to oblivion. It would take days to tear apart the entire Fortress, so she’d have to find some way to broach the subject diplomatically when he returned from hunting with Raven. As she used her powers to clean up the bedroom, watching objects fly across the room to put themselves away in their proper places, she knew—she knew—the medallion Cernunnos gave her bore the same Weeping Willow tree she’d seen in the vision she’d had before Raven was born. That was the same image that popped into her head when Athena said the name ‘Shar Draíocht’. Still, she wanted to see it and hold it to be absolutely sure.

  Climbing into her empty bed, Alena racked her brain for the name Shar Draíocht and was unable to come up with a face. It was a very old Fey name and quite uncommon, but it didn’t mean anything of any significance to her. Holding Ares’ vest close to her, Alena lay down and drifted into a restless sleep.

  Morpheus uncloaked by the bed to look down at her with pity before reaching into the leather pouch on his left hip and taking up a healthy pinch. He sprinkled her with a good dose of Dark Dream Dust. “Sleep well, Alena, sleep deep.”

  Sleep well and deep she did.

  All around her buildings towered over her head perched upon a high wall surrounding a busy city. Down here, all around her people were going about their daily rituals in the marketplace, shopping for the day’s meals, clothing, and sundries. Dressed in togas, talking, chatting, shopping in the vast market place, they walked with arms laden with baskets while carriages full of wares went trundling by.