Warrior Ascended

by Warrior Ascended (lit)

  Kane snorted and uttered, “Not bloody likely,” before all three men looked at one another.

  Ava saw the looks that passed among all three of them. She saw the pointed look Brody leveled on Quinn. Finally, the man nodded. “I suppose you’re in this pretty deep already. Fair enough.”

  Quinn laid his half-eaten egg roll on the counter and wiped his hands on a napkin. “You sure you want to know?”

  “Positive.”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “We’re immortal Warriors, granted our powers by the Greek goddess of justice, Themis. The men who disintegrated into piles of ooze work for our mortal enemy, Enyo, the goddess of war.”

  Chapter Ten

  Enyo circled the cell where one Dr. William Martin was now spending his days. The delicate little man had proven a greater challenge than she’d expected, but she was delighted to see the days of imprisonment were wearing him down.

  The normally fastidious man had several weeks’ growth of beard covering his face. Although she’d held out so far, she was seriously considering giving Deimos his head to play with Martin, using a few of his favorite torture devices.

  While she’d like nothing more than to see the good doctor suffer a bit for his stubbornness, she’d allowed her nephew to play with her prisoners before. His zeal for his craft had cost her some good information and she wasn’t about to repeat that mistake.

  “So, Dr. Martin, enjoying your day?”

  “What can you possibly be keeping me alive for? I won’t give you the information you seek. Kill me and get it over with.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Dr. Martin. Surely you can’t believe I find you that expendable.”

  “I know you do. I’m an old man and I can’t take much more of this. End this misery and be done with me.”

  “Yes, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” She heard scurrying in the walls of the abandoned subway tunnel they currently occupied and briefly pondered adding a few enticements to the good doctor’s cell to lure the rats.

  Or something even more interesting, perhaps . . .

  “I’d like that very much.”

  “Well then, I guess it’s just not your lucky day. You have something I want and since you refuse to share it”—she plastered a moue of pique on her features—“it looks like we’re at an impasse.”

  He leaned on the bars, his weakened spirit painting his features with a grayish pall. “We’ve been through this several times. I don’t have anything for you. I’m a man of learning. What could you possibly want from me?”

  Just for fun, she touched a long, red fingernail to the bars, inciting an electric shock that raced through the metal, forcing him back with an agonized scream.

  “As a man of learning, you should know about shock therapy, Dr. Martin. And as someone who has spent years and years around some very important artifacts in the Museum of Natural History, you do have the information I’m seeking. It’s my job to part you from the information before you are parted from your earthly life.”

  “I don’t have it. We’ve been through this before.”

  “Of course you have it. You’ve had it in your head for years and years. I want to know about the Summoning Stones of Egypt. I know they have power when used together and I want you to tell me what your dear, late friend, the esteemed Dr. Russell Harrison, knew about them.”

  “This is madness. Absolute madness. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She shot another beam of electricity at the bars, even though the old man was already huddled on the floor. The satisfying pop and hiss of static arcing through the air took a slight edge off her increasing irritation with the conversation.

  The scratching she heard in the walls got louder, then turned into a light scurrying as a large, emaciated rat crawled into the room. She watched the twitch of its nose as it scoured the floor, an idea taking root.

  It was time to set an example, and she didn’t need Deimos to do it.

  “You know, Dr. Martin, I actually think I’ve been rather patient with you. I’ve given you endless hours to sit here and think about your situation. I can’t imagine a high-ranking academic has an abundance of that.”

  At his blank stare, she added, “Time, you know. Such a precious resource, especially when the days you’re given on Earth are numbered, unlike my own.” She scooped the rat up, cradling it in her hands, her grip firm on the creature so it could do little more than sit there.

  The man huddled in the corner, his eyes following the slow sweep of her fingernail as it ran over the animal’s quivering back.

  “Since you have proven to me that you don’t appreciate the gift I’ve given you, I’m afraid it’s time to set an example—to actually leave you with something to think about so that when I come back, you might have rethought your decision to tell me about the Summoning Stones.”

  Although he kept his gaze as blank as possible, she couldn’t miss the frissons of fear that spiked off his person.

  She allowed the animal to dangle as a shiver of power ran through her as she sensed the older man’s fear.

  Fear was such an aphrodisiac.

  “You must be always running here and there. Working on the next paper. Leading the preparations for the next major exhibit, designed to knock the socks off your benefactors. Such a tiring life and so like this little creature here. Always scurrying to and fro, never finding time to sit still.”

  She walked over to Martin’s discarded food bowl, still full from the evening before. With a swift kick, she sent the dish flying toward the bars of the old man’s cell, tossing food across the floor and over his huddled form.

  “But if this rodent had a better life—a life only I could give it—what more could it accomplish? How much more could it be?”

  Extending her hand, she placed a finger on the back of the rat, shooting great rays of life-affirming energy into its gaunt body.

  One beat. Two beats. Three beats. She watched Martin’s eyes as the creature grew in her hand, its proportions expanding until it was comparable to a medium-sized dog. With another flick of her wrist, a ridge of spikes grew out of its tail.

  “Now, Dr. Martin, I believe it was you who mentioned madness mere moments ago.” Setting the rodent in front of the bars, she watched as it scrambled forward. The animal squeezed its now-large body through the cell bars and shot toward the first piece of food it could find, giddy in its movements as it attacked the food. The animal scurried over and around the contents, eagerly gobbling up as much food as it could manage.

  Enyo kept her voice low, the sound echoing off the walls around them as she maintained her gaze on the old doctor. Stubborn fool, he really had no idea whom he was dealing with. “Such simple creatures. Nourishment and shelter are all they really want. And, even as low on the food chain as it is, it can clearly appreciate the need for sustenance, unlike yourself.”

  As the animal scurried around the discarded food, a heavier sound reverberated off the walls. As the sound got louder, Dr. Martin huddled into the corner of the cell, doing his level best to shrink into the corner.

  As the thundering sound got even louder, the hungry rat stopped to watch the door, wary at its potential loss of food. Enyo felt a wave of deep satisfaction wash over her as a Chimera burst into the room. Body and head of a lion, tail of a full-grown snake, with a second head of a large goat that extended from its back, the creature leaped through the door she’d left slightly ajar. The lion portion of its body shook its head and roared, eyes wild as it caught the ripe scents in the room.

  Dr. Martin moaned as the animal scrambled around the room. “I don’t believe it. It’s not possible.”

  Enyo stepped aside as the animal rushed the bars. “Believe it, Dr. Martin. It’s very possible.”

  With its paw, the Chimera brushed at the rat, cornering it until it had no choice but to leave the food and race outside the bars to escape the seeking claws. As soon as it cleared them, the snake wrapped around the large, oversized body of the rodent, squeezing the life f
rom it. Flicking its spoils to its other two mouths, the goat and the lion ripped the animal apart as blood sprayed in a pattern across the cell.

  Deimos and Phobos had clearly not been feeding their beloved pet.

  Satisfied her little experiment was moving along nicely, Enyo sashayed across the room to the exit. “Enjoy your visitor, Dr. Martin.”

  As the door swung closed behind her, she heard the satisfying thump of the Chimera as it threw itself against the bars of the good doctor’s prison. As she walked down the hall, the last thing she heard was the long, low moan of Dr. William Martin as his new friend paid him a visit.

  Brody thought through his approach as the seconds ticked away between them in Kane’s kitchen. He’d expected screams, a faint, possibly even a few punches thrown in a haze of panic and fear.

  What he didn’t expect was somber quiet and the waiting, expectant look in Ava’s eyes.

  Or her calm, even voice as she nodded at the three of them. “Go on. I’m listening.”

  More time ticked by. Explain, explain, explain.

  How do you condense millennia of information into a brief, concise explanation?

  And how do you explain to one extraordinary woman that she very possibly had an extraordinary set of paranormal gifts that could rule the world and everything in it?

  Kane and Quinn left the room, the only sound their heavy footfalls as they passed through the kitchen’s swinging doors.

  “So is it true? What Quinn just said?” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, the soft blond locks falling into a neat frame around her face.

  “It’s true. And, while there are a few more details, Quinn pretty much gave you the Reader’s Digest version.”

  “So what does this have to do with me? You think I’m the target of this Enyo person?”

  “I know you are. She’s the only one who can send Destroyers. Those are the guys who work for her. The ones filled with the oily ooze.”

  His heart turned over at her scared-rabbit expression. Gods, how did he explain this to her? It wasn’t as if he walked around every day giving out his life story. Matter of fact, he actively worked to hide his life story from the real world.

  As he fought to find the words, another thought took root. He could show her.

  “Hold my hand. I think I know a way to make sense of this.”

  He extended his hand and watched as those long, slim fingers folded against his.

  “Are you porting us again?”

  “Yep. Hang on.”

  A rush of air pulled them out of the kitchen, London receding far behind them.

  Brody’s arm tightened around her as they landed in the center of a large, marble foyer. Her body responded to the feel of him, the large hand that held hers so tightly while his opposite arm wrapped around her waist.

  Traitorous thing, her body.

  Seeking some measure of equilibrium—and much-needed composure that flew out the window when he touched her—she looked around. “Where are we?”

  “Back in Manhattan. At my home.”

  “What you want to show me is here?”

  “It’s a start. Plus, I figured if we ported here, you’d have to believe at least some of what I’m about to tell you.”

  “How do I know I’m really in Manhattan?”

  He nodded toward the front door. “Open it.”

  Was this a test? A test to see if she would run? Or a test to see if she would stay?

  And which did she want to do?

  With tentative steps, she walked to the door and opened it, only to be greeted by the loud cacophony of Manhattan traffic.

  “You really flung us back home?”

  “Yep.”

  The sheer, overwhelming truth of it stared her in the face. The sun wasn’t yet up because it was still only about four thirty in the morning, but the city that never slept lived up to its name.

  Okay. Check one box. They really were in Manhattan.

  “I’d like to show you more, if you’d like to come with me.”

  Whether for good or against every bit of judgment she’d been given, Ava closed the door—and followed Brody as he began a path through his home.

  They walked through the house, giving her the opportunity to see more of her surroundings. The house was positively palatial. Had they just passed a room that held an Olympic-sized pool?

  In Manhattan?

  As they walked through the house, they passed by an impossible number of rooms, and more artwork and sculpture than was found in most museums. “Brody, where are we? I mean, I know you said your home, but where in Manhattan are we?”

  “The Upper West Side.”

  “But this place is huge. There aren’t any homes like this on the Upper West Side. I’ve lived here my whole life. I’d know.”

  They came to a doorway and Brody reached for the doorknob. “I’ll tell you about those men first. The ones who attacked you on your block and the one who followed us from the airport. Then I’ll explain the house.”

  “You said before they’re not men.”

  “Not technically.” He flipped a switch and they started down a large staircase into the basement. “They were once, but not anymore.”

  A large crater opened in the pit of her stomach, images of standing on the man’s neck filling her mind’s eye. She’d managed to put it aside—forget about what had happened based on the assumption he wasn’t human. “You mean I really did kill someone?”

  “No, Ava. He’s been well and truly dead a very long time.”

  “He didn’t loo—” Her breath caught as the basement spread out before them.

  Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stood against one wall. In the center of the basement was a fountain—an honest-to-God running, working, functioning fountain—that looked like a depiction of Mount Olympus.

  As they moved farther into the basement, past the fountain and toward the books, they came upon an alcove she hadn’t been able to see from the stairs. The same rich tapestries she’d seen covering the walls upstairs covered the floors. The alcove held two large leather sectional sofas. One wall was taken up by an enormous, large-screen TV and another by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, filled with scrolls in place of books. The final wall held an enormous tapestry, woven with all twelve signs of the zodiac, the gold thread that made the symbols in stark relief on a deep blue background.

  “The tapestry over there—the symbology on it. I saw that upstairs, too. On pillows on the couch and several paintings in the hallway.”

  “Yes, it does. We have it throughout the house.” He gestured to one of the large couches. “Let’s sit down. I need to show you some things and I want you to be comfortable.”

  She sighed, still not sure how she was believing all this, yet not sure she couldn’t believe it. It was far too elaborate to be made up or to be a figment of her imagination. “Tell me about these Destroyers.”

  “They’re dead men who have been reanimated to hurt and kill humans.”

  “That guy didn’t look dead when he attacked me. And the two last night on the sidewalk didn’t look dead, either.”

  “And that’s their true deception. The average person can’t tell the difference. Quinn has spent years trying to figure out exactly what they are, but he hasn’t had any success yet. So, even though we don’t know all the specifics, as best we can tell, the ooze that fills them is some sort of superconductor of electricity.”

  And if she followed through to a logical conclusion—no matter how illogical it sounded—the next natural leap was simple. “The head’s the key to killing them.”

  “Exactly.”

  Maybe it was all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours or maybe it was the overarching abnormalcy that had ruled her personal life for so long, but his revelation about the hired killers wasn’t nearly as startling as it should have been. “Why the head? You’d think it would be the heart.”

  “It’s balance.”

  “Balance of what?”

  “That’s
the only way I can be killed. Removal of my head will destroy my human form. Otherwise, I’m immortal, along with my fellow Warriors, like Quinn and Kane. The fact that the Destroyers can only be killed at the head is a sort of balance between them and us.”

  Brody took a deep breath. “What Quinn told you is true. I am an immortal Warrior of the great goddess of justice, Themis. I am a Warrior of the Zodiac.”

  Thoughts slammed into one another, all fighting to be heard first. Beyond any confusion she’d felt yet, this was like sensory overload, only on the mental plane.

  Human form?

  Immortal?

  Warriors?

  The same words Quinn had used.

  “Zodiac? Really and truly? As in astrology? As in what’s your sign and the Age of Aquarius and all that? Come on, Brody. You can’t be serious.”

  “But I am. Themis used the balance of the heavens—the perfect proportions of the zodiac—to create us. I’ve taken up her battle for justice and balance here on Earth.”

  Back to the balance stuff.

  Ava scoured her mind, remembering a school course on myth and society. The story of the Titans worked its way forward from the depths of her memories and with it, an image of Themis. Scales. Lady Justice. Mother of the three Fates.

  And slowly the balance stuff started to make a bit more sense. The zodiac, on the other hand—what was going on around here and what the hell had she fallen into? A cult of some sort? People did it every day, worshipping things they believed had power, and astrology likely had more followers than any other pagan practice. Heck, just open a newspaper on any given day. The whole world paid attention to it, even if for most it was a haphazard sort of appreciation.

  “So this Greek goddess?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Our patroness, Themis?”

  “Scales of justice and all that?”

  “Among other things, yes. She is also the mother of a race of warriors. She selected me for her service and in the Fifth Age of Man—the age I was born in—I accepted.”