OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3

by Lisa Beth Darling

  She didn’t answer him. She never did. She only slept and slept these last long lonely four years.

  The room was cold, so cold he could see his breath when he spoke. Ares used his powers to stoke the hearth high and hot, bringing light as well as warmth to the place she lay in her long slumber. Every day she seemed to age just a little bit more, her once smooth face was now filled with the signs of mortality with its creases and lines. Every day she died a little more and grew just a little more distant from him. With all of the power a Mortal Man could ever desire residing in Ares’ fingertips, he was still helpless to save his Wife. For the last four years, all he could was sit by and watch her fade.

  Not wanting to be without her tonight, Ares pulled back the covers and slid next to her to take her chilly body up in his arms and hold her close. “I’m sorry, Alena, I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything if you’ll come back to me, I’m utterly lost without you. I love you, please, please, come back.” Alone in the room with her, Ares let the tears flow down his cheeks until his beard glistened with them.

  Chapter Three

  A New Son Rises

  I

  Sitting at the breakfast table, Ares and Raven glared at each other from the opposite ends. “I heard you screaming last night, are you all right, Father?” Normally the days were spent with Father and Son walking on eggshells around each other. Raven never confessed what happened the night his Mother took her fall down the stairs and Ares never stopped suspecting him of pushing her. Almost four years after the fact, Ares was still trying to get Raven to admit it. Raven was no longer a boy, no longer intimidated by his Father’s tactics. In fact, as he sat at the breakfast table this morning he was on the verge of being declared a Man by the Olympians who looked down upon him all of his life.

  “I don’t scream,” Ares scoffed and pushed away a full plate of bacon and eggs, his stomach no longer hungry. “Where’s your shirt? How many times have I told you to come to the table properly attired?”

  Raven couldn’t count that high. “I don’t know but since my chest isn’t covered with fur like yours it won’t get in my food so, what’s the problem?”

  “Manners. Decorum. Do you even know what these things mean?”

  “Nope,” Raven shook his head with a grin. Raven’s midnight hair, with its wide streak of gray starting just over his left eye, now hung to the middle of his bare back where it wisped about in long gentle waves caressing his taut olive skin.

  “How about a haircut? When are you going to get one of those?”

  “The same time I buy a shirt?”

  “Teenagers, how I hate them so,” Ares huffed. “Have you checked on your Sister this morning?”

  Every morning before coming down to breakfast Raven was charged with checking in on his Sister. However, Ares never allowed Raven to be in the room alone with Rose or with Alena, his mother. “Onya’s with her, she’s playing in her room.” Raven sighed before shoving another forkful into his mouth and tossing a chunk of meat to Spirit Walker who sat at his feet. He reached down to pet the hungry wolf and mutter under his breath, “Like the little retard can do anything else.”

  Ares leaned forward with smoldering eyes. “What did you say?”

  “It’s not like Rose is capable of doing much more than my mother,” Raven huffed, “she sits in her room having make-believe tea parties, singing about the moon, with her stupid stuffed animals and that dopey grin on her crooked face.” Raven’s strange gray and amber eyes glanced down at the feeding wolf, remembering the day they found Spirit Walker. “You should have done the right thing by her the night she was born.”

  “I did,” Ares shot. The night Little Rose was born so prematurely, Ares considered snuffing out her life. It seemed the kind thing to do as she struggled to breathe in the palm of his hand. He even tried to go through with it, he raised his hand to lay it over her nose and mouth, prepared to feel the small death thrashes she would make, but then she smiled at him. The miniscule baby in his palm looked up, eyes wide and bright, and she smiled. He couldn’t do it. For the first time in his life, Ares God of War was unable to kill another living creature. Instead, he cradled her lovingly and brought her over to where Alena laid on the bed, her eyes were open but they were blank. Ares held the baby up for her to see, then he held both of them tightly waiting for Hades to come and ease the little girl’s suffering. He sang while he waited, a sweet little lullaby Alena once sang to Raven. When the song was over and The God of Death hadn’t arrived, he sang it again. In his hand, the tiny baby fought for every breath and several times Ares thought the end was near and wondered how Hades could allow this to go on. But breath after hard-fought breath, the little girl kept on living. Ares named her Rose. Although her Mother slept, little by little, Rose grew. Ares was never once sorry that he didn’t take her little life, never once looked down on her or pitied her. In fact, Ares thought his Little Rose most brave and tenacious. She conquered obstacles left and right, and that made Ares proud.

  Raven shoved another forkful of eggs and ham into his mouth to keep his tongue busy. He wasn’t going to argue with Ares over it all for the umpteenth time. Over the years, he’d learned when to speak up and when to remain quiet so he could play the Dutiful Son in order to keep his hot-tempered Father on an even keel. Ares was exceedingly protective of his Little Rose.

  Rose, the little girl with the droopy face and uneven legs was heavily retarded. She didn’t even say her first word until after her second birthday and now, at the age of three-going-on-four, she was no bigger than a Mortal two-year-old, perhaps even smaller. She was still learning how to walk on her uneven legs. She was tiny, fragile, and feeble. She was hardly made out of the type of regal cloth from which an Olympian was cut. She didn’t even seem to possess any powers unless one considered the ability to make others smile a power, and Raven did not. Whereas once Raven plotted to kill his little Sister, fearful that Rose might grow to be able to tell what really happened the night their mother fell down the stairs, it soon became clear that would never be the case. She’d never tell on him, she’d never be a Queen of Olympus and therefore she wasn’t any threat to him. Raven just let her go on living in her imaginary world with her imaginary friends. In the end Raven pitied her, felt sorry for her, even more so than he had felt for Trinity. “If nothing else, she’s an embarrassment to you and the Family, isn’t that the real reason you didn’t let Zeus Accept her as an Olympian?”

  Over the rim of a chalice of Nectar, Ares glared at Raven, both of them knowing Ares hadn’t allowed Rose to be Accepted because he knew how much Alena would detest it. “My Daughter is not an embarrassment, she is my Daughter.” With a large swallow he put the chalice on the table and leaned forward to narrow his gaze and tighten his tone. “If it hadn’t been for a certain terrible…accident…she’d be just as normal as you and I.”

  “You’re the God of War. You’ve got a gimp for a Daughter, don’t tell me that doesn’t stick in your craw or that you think she’s worthy.”

  “What have I told you about that ugly word, boy?” Ares wanted to send a fireball racing down to the other end of the table and burn the smug look off Raven’s face. “She’s not a gimp. She’s not a retard. Or a lame brain or a reject. She is your Sister. Like you, Rose is an Olympian just because she is my child. It’s not her worthiness that concerns me.”

  “Well then, soon your concerns will be laid to rest, won’t they?” Raven finished the food on his plate. “I’ll show all of you just how worthy I am of being an Olympian.”

  “We’ll see,” Ares agreed in a dark tone. Behind Raven Ares saw a shadow moving on the wall, soon Onya was standing in the doorway with Rose in her arms.

  The little girl with the strawberry hair and gray eyes bounced up and down upon the sight of her Father sitting at the table and held her weak arms out to him. “Da-da-da,” she huffed as she jumped excitedly and her droopy face reddened.

  “Good morning, my little Rose,” Ares said in a brighter voice as a smile broke
out on his worried face, chasing away the creases and lines. “Put her down, hummm? I want to see her walk to me.”

  Onya settled the little girl on the floor and stood behind her with her hands out ready to catch Rose should she fall, but Ares told her to move away as he rose from the table to settle on his haunches on the floor. Watching the little girl walk was painful; with one leg nearly two inches shorter than the other she was unsteady as she hobbled along, tottering and teetering as she tried to run to her Father’s open arms.

  At the table Raven rolled his eyes and let out a disgusted sigh that was cut short by the heated glare Ares shot at him.

  It took effort and determination but little Rose managed to teeter all the way to him without falling down. When she jumped onto his knee she tossed a pudgy little fist in the air in victory letting out a ‘hoo-wha’ before kissing Ares’ cheek.

  “Very good,” The God of War encouraged, “you are very brave, Rose, like your mother.”

  “Ma-ma-ma,” the little girl started bouncing on his lap.

  “Soon, we’ll go up and see your mother, after breakfast, but here, I’ve got something for you.” Standing up he settled in his chair once more and sat Rose on the table as he reached beneath the chair and produced a small shoe made of balsa wood with a two inch platform sole. When he tried to put it on her foot, she balked, pulled it away and folded her dainty arms over her chest. Rose didn’t like shoes; she was always tossing off the sandals he tried to make her wear. “Don’t you pout at me, little girl,” Ares craned his face in close to scowl deeply at her with his bearded cheeks puffed out. Rose crinkled her little nose and moved in close to match her Father’s glare before slapping the sides of his face playfully to release the air he was holding. It puffed out into her face making her strawberry blonde hair fly back just before she let out a happy laugh. “Just try this,” he said softly, “I think you’ll like it.” Rose went back to pouting but not as deeply and she sat still while he fitted the shoe to her right foot and then gently put her down on the floor once more. “How’s that, my little Rose? Better?”

  For a moment, the little girl swayed on her feet but soon let out a surprised, “Whoooooo,” when she realized her legs were even. Raven dropped the fork to his plate in a display of shock and disgust, causing Rose to let out another little cry as the sharp sound startled her. “Ray-Ray,” she pouted again and shook a slender little finger at her Brother.

  Feeling his Father’s eyes weighing on him, Raven pushed away from the table to get down on his knees on the floor. “Come on, Rosie, walk to Ray-Ray,” as he held out his hands for her. Ever since she started talking he tried to get her to say Raven but it seemed all she was capable of was the first syllable of any word. In her world ‘l’s were ‘y’s and the letter ‘c’ didn’t exist at all. Learning how to communicate with Rose was challenging. “Come on, you can do it.”

  Even if it was a little heavy and a bit cumbersome at first, it didn’t take Rose long to catch on to how much easier it was to walk with her new shoe. After a few jerky starts, she wandered right over to her Brother, letting out a titter every time she put down her right foot and it made it a little clunk sound on the marble floor. With a lively crooked grin that said she was pleased with herself and her new shoe, Rose put her arms around Raven’s neck and gave him a kiss before reaching out to pet Spirit Walker. “‘Oft.”

  “Yes, he’s soft. That was very good, Rosie, good girl. Your new shoe will go nice with your new pretty dress for my party tonight. Would you like that?” Rose seemed to think about, her eyes turned upward to the ceiling as she fell silent. “Party, remember? Cake?”

  Rose’s eyes came back to meet Raven’s stare with much delight as she balled up her little fists and shook them excitedly in the air, “Ooooooo, ‘ake!”

  “Yes, lots of cake,” Raven assured as she began climbing away to explore the room on her own terms. Now she could see things she hadn’t seen before and go to corners so far unknown unless someone carried her.

  “You’ve done it now, my Lord,” Onya said as her eyes followed Rose around the room, “you won’t be able to let her out of your sight. She’ll be into everything.”

  “As it should be for a curious little girl.” He turned in the chair to see his youngest child not just walking but already starting to learn to climb as she tried to hoist herself up onto his Throne of Bones. She huffed and she puffed and she strained as she struggled to pull her little body onto the seat with weak arms.

  Onya couldn’t take watching Rose struggle and moved to go help her but Ares held his arm to block her path. “My Lord, she needs help.”

  “No, she doesn’t. Now let her do it.”

  With a red face, puffy cheeks, and a sweaty brow Rose let out a loud grunt of determination and mounted her Father’s Throne. She raised a chubby little fist over her head in victory then pumped it in the air as Ares and Onya clapped for her achievement. Even Raven had to give his little Sister a smile and a hearty nod of approval. Little Rose’s moment of triumph was made bittersweet only by the fact that Alena wasn’t here to share in it.

  II

  The joy in the moment was further quelled when Aphrodite’s voice was heard in the front entryway of the Fortress. “Hello,” she called out in sparkling tones, “hope we’re not interrupting anything.”

  Ares’ face fell and he let out a low growl as he waited for her to appear in the doorway with their Son, Hunter, a boy who seemed destined to be even more arrogant than any of them. “Just finishing breakfast,” Ares tried to hold back the groan but it wasn’t easy. He only put up with Hunter for Alena’s sake. His Wife had always been on him to have a relationship with Trinity and Ares had always refused. Now Trinity was in the Elysian Fields and any chance Ares ever had of getting to know her was gone. Alena would not like having Aphrodite around but, if she were awake, Ares had no doubt she would insist that he fulfill his role as Hunter’s Father. To that end, three days a week Ares had Hunter over to the Fortress and spent the day with him doing his best to be patient and understanding with a child whose ego rivaled that of his Mother, Aphrodite.

  “Good morning, Father,” Hunter said as he stood next to his Mother. Unlike his Sister, who was several months older than him, Hunter was right on target for an Olympian child. He looked as though he were around the age of six and acted as though he were thirty. With naturally sun kissed skin, bright blue eyes and wavy blonde hair, Hunter was very attractive and he already knew it.

  “Good morning, Hunter,” Ares returned, trying to sound casual.

  Aphrodite, who was beginning to show signs of wear and tear on her perfectly chiseled face, sauntered into the room with Hunter at her side. “Good morning, all,” she said with a cheerful smile and then gave Raven a long up and down glance. “You’re looking very well this morning,” she cooed and put a hand upon his bare shoulder to give it a sensual massage. “Very—mature.” The kneading fingers on his young supple shoulder entwined around Raven’s dark silky hair, her eyes alight with wicked thoughts about her Nephew.

  “Down girl,” Ares sneered from his place at the head of the table.

  “Well now, that could be very interesting. What do you say, Raven? Want me to go down?” She tittered and batted her long blonde lashes for the young man while she licked her full lips. “Maybe tonight?” Although to Aphrodite there was no ‘maybe’ about it. The traditional gift for an Olympian on a night like this would be his very first Fey but since the only two of those known in existence were either deeply sleeping or far too young and retarded for the task, that option didn’t seem likely. Who else would Raven choose tonight? Hera? Not likely. It also didn’t seem likely Raven would choose a Muse or a Grace for his first conquest. That left her, the Lady of Love, just salivating at the prospect of getting her hands on the sinewy boy who was past ready for indulgences of the flesh and oozing pheromones the way a worm excretes silk. “I’ll do things to you that you haven’t even dreamed of yet.”

  Raven sat there staring up
at her, openly undressing the Lady of Love with his eyes and thinking over her proposal. “Will you?”

  “Oh yes, yes, I will.” Aphrodite ran her fingers through his long hair from the top of his head to his shoulder blades. She turned her sapphire eyes to Ares at the head of the head of the table, they sparkled with devilish delight. “What about you Ares? In need of a little special attention by now, aren’t you?”

  “Not from you, not in this lifetime,” he returned coolly. The only good thing, if one could call it that, about Alena being in a coma the last three years was that Ares didn’t get her pregnant and therefore he didn’t have to return to Aphrodite’s bed since the night of Alena’s fall.

  “Is someone else taking care of your hot salty needs these days?” Aphrodite’s eyebrows rose as she looked past Ares to Onya. “You perhaps? You always were his favorite little whore. Tell me, how often do they have you sweaty and breathless between them? Ares and Eros, I mean or are you just,” she stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek and made a crude pumping motion with her hands, “for him behind my Son’s back?”

  “Stop being so crude,” Ares huffed.