by Mara Lee
Aega clenched her jaw but said nothing. She let the Goddess of the Dead speak her piece.
“There is a blood war rising, Aega. Did you know that?” Persephone sighed and shook her head. “Of course you didn’t. You do not keep up with the Vampyre, do you?”
“You know that I do not. They are impure,” Aega said sharply.
Persephone laughed. “How little you know, young Aega, how little you know.” Persephone’s expression turned somber. “A blood war is a battle of the Vampyre packs. There are packs moving in on Ditheous. They wish to overthrow him, to take his place.”
“I still do not know what you would have of me.”
“I would have you go to him.”
Aega opened her mouth to protest but before she could speak, Persephone cut her off.
“I wish you to guard him, Aega … keep him safe for me. You know I cannot. I cannot remain on this plane for more than a short span of time. You, however, have all the advantages of your Goddess state, while remaining in corporeal form. You can stay at his side, as I cannot.”
“He is Vampyre, Persephone. What need of me has he?”
Persephone swallowed and looked away. “He needs you more than he will ever know.”
Aega’s glow returned—pulsing bright and harsh. “Have you word from the Fates that I do not have? Do you know something that I do not?”
“Merely that you are the only one that I can ask this of.”
“You are a higher deity than I, Persephone. You could merely order me to do this for you.” Aega’s voice was tight.
Persephone shot to her feet. She turned to face accusing eyes. “I do not wish to order you to do anything, Aega. I ask a favor from you.”
“If what you say is true, and you wish a favor from me, you realize you shall be indebted to me.”
A curt nod. “I do realize.”
“Why would you do that?” Aega was suspicious. She had never known a God or Goddess to give freely.
“I think of it as a trade of favors.”
Aega tilted her head to one side and waited for her to continue.
“If you do what I ask, then I owe you a favor, a favor I will gladly return.” Persephone’s eyes went even sharper. “I will return you to your mountain, Aega. You will go home.”
Aega went completely still. All breath escaped her and her oddly human heart stopped beating.
Persephone smiled slightly. “Yes, I know what is in that new human heart of yours. You wish to be returned. I can, and will, do this for you, if you will do what I have asked of you.” Persephone conjured to her hand two brilliant daggers. She handed them to Aega. “A gift, a blessed gift to help you on your way.” Her eyes gleamed. “These daggers were crafted by Hephaestus himself. And they were given to my husband as a gift. They are twice blessed.”
Aega turned the daggers over in her small palms. They were finely crafted and done with a loving hand. Beautiful weapons … and she wanted them. But what Persephone was asking of her was ridiculous … dangerous to the extreme. “They would destroy you,” Aega said stiffly.
“Nay, they would not.” Persephone cupped her own cheek. Her eyes glittered. “They would never destroy this. They would not dare. Zeus would not risk Hades’ wrath. And your father and mother are too entwined within their childish games to care over my actions.”
“But my father will care if I am returned to the mountain.”
“Perhaps. But by that time it will be too late. I will have sent you back, and my magic will protect you. I will not let him cast you out again, Aega. Think about it. You will be free to reign again.”
“I have never reigned,” Aega whispered.
“But you could. You should.” Persephone came closer to the young Goddess and clasped both of her hands. “Your father grows old, his sun grows sallow. You could easily replace him, Aega.”
“Treason. You speak treacherous words.” Aega shivered.
“I say merely what you will not. Do not be quick to throw off my offer.” Persephone narrowed her eyes. “What I ask is little in comparison to what I offer.”
Aega dropped her head. Her heart began to beat faster. It was too much. Could she dare do this? Did she dare risk the wrath of the Gods of the mountain?
Aega’s eyes were clear and focused when she looked up into Persephone’s waiting face. “Yes. I accept.”
Chapter Two
Ditheous was having a very bad day. For that matter, he was having a very bad death. His top Lieutenant had gone missing, he was low on blood and short on temper. And at this moment he was facing down a very nasty group of upstart fledglings.
Ditheous took a moment to study the five Vampyres that had approached him so foolishly. The one in the middle was obviously the leader of the motley group. He was short, only about five foot eight, but he possessed a bulky physique. His hair was black and spiky and his eyes were a calm shade of blue. He had a large scar that ran the distance from brow to chin and tattoos in the form of snakes winding about his shoulders.
Ditheous was not impressed, though he rarely was these days. “Did your pack master not warn you of the dangers of coming up against the Triex?”
The black-haired Vampyre laughed. So too, did his companions. “Oh, we were warned, great Ditheous. But warnings hold little meaning to us.”
The five Vampyres slowly circled the great leader of Pack Triex.
“Then you are not merely young, you are stupid.” Ditheous watched the encroaching fledglings with a bland, even bored, expression on his handsome face.
“I am Death,” the fledgling said, whipping out a long dagger. “Remember the name, for it will be the last that you hear on this earth.”
Ditheous blinked, once, twice, and then burst out laughing. The upstarts watched him warily now, confused and bewildered expressions filtering across their young faces.
“Ahhhh, to be so young,” Ditheous murmured. His eyes were bright with laughter when he spoke to Death. His mouth curved up in a smile. “Now, to clarify, are you telling me that you are death, or that your name is Death?”
Death scowled and then leapt at Ditheous.
Ditheous shook his head. He levitated easily above the group and watched as they scrambled below. They were too young to command the power of the sky. They could not levitate, let alone fly.
He yawned. “Are we through yet, Death?”
Death hissed at him. His fangs were fully extended now and his face yellowed like old parchment.
“Coward!” Death cried. “You can’t fight on the ground like a real man?”
Ditheous materialized behind Death and contemptuously raked his claws down the fledgling’s back—drawing blood.
Death stumbled forward.
Ditheous shook his head and sighed. “You see, Death, we are not real men, are we?” Ditheous dematerialized before two of the fledglings could get to him. They bounced harmlessly off of one another. “This is becoming tedious.” Ditheous saw the silver stake from the corner of his eye.
His eyebrows rose. “Well, perhaps not quite a stupid as I first thought,” he said right before the stake came down, barely missing his shoulder. “Merely one with very poor aim.”
Death growled and lunged toward Ditheous. Suddenly his eyes went wide and his jaw slack and he looked slowly down. There was a gaping hole where his heart should have been.
Death’s eyes, now glassy, focused on the leader of pack Triex, who now held his still beating heart in his palm.
Ditheous swept his eyes around the group, who had gone completely still and silent. He plucked the dagger out of Death’s hand and smiled a twisted smile.
“I, however, have very good aim, Death.” Ditheous crushed the upstart fledgling’s heart and watched as it exploded in a rush of tissue, blood and membrane. He quickly, and with one sinuous move, separated Death’s head from his body.
The fledgling fell immediately to the ground.
Ditheous eyed the four remaining Vampyres as he slowly licked the blood off of the dagger
. “Would anyone else like to try their luck?”
All four glared at him with burning hatred but made no move toward him.
The tallest of the group spoke. His voice was gruff and filled with unveiled hostility. “You would allow us to go, even though you know our intentions now toward you?”
Ditheous shrugged. “’Tis mostly the reason I let you go. At least now I know who my enemies are,” his grin was not comforting, “and I will be watching for you.” He waved his hand casually. “Go. I have no need of your blood. And now you know what will happen to you, if you ever try to attack me or any of mine again.”
The upstarts didn’t need to be told twice. They took off into the night.
Ditheous looked down at the rapidly decomposing Death and frowned. Now it was time to find his Lieutenant. It was time to find Rochelle.
*
Aega watched the fight with interest. Her eyes had taken it all in. She cataloged each move, each strike, to memory and stashed the knowledge away for future reference.
Ditheous. The pack leader was rather fascinating in a base way. He had stood in the center of five of his own, five who would have loved to take his heart and head, and laughed.
His laughter was beautiful, deep, rich and faintly musical. It was a pleasure to the ears.
But it was his face that arrested all thought. With hair the color of ripe wheat, eyes sharper and brighter than the stars, and a mouth sculpted to perfection, he was the epitome of an angel, such was his beauty.
Aega was used to such beauty. What she was not used to was seeing beauty given to a truly lowly creature.
It was strange. Aega saw little of Persephone in this blood kin. Nay, he appeared to be more of Apollo than belonging to the Queen of the Underworld. Foolish king Theseus must have been a handsome one indeed to have passed on such perfection.
Aega watched Ditheous dematerialize—her expression thoughtful.
* * * *
The house was guarded like the true fortress it was. Cameras shadowed each corner of the ground and burly men—both human and inhuman—patrolled, with weapons ready.
“State your purpose, Vampyre.”
Ditheous clenched his jaw and cracked his knuckles. He raked the insolent guard with a withering stare.
“I suggest you modify that tone of yours, pup.” he said blandly.
The guard snarled, baring his sharp canines. “I could rip your liver out before you had a chance to blink.”
“No … sadly, you could not.” The new voice that spoke was deep and rumbling.
Ditheous looked over the guard’s shoulder and smiled mockingly. “Andre.”
Andre Loothis turned first to his guard. “Open the gate.”
“But sir…”
Andre’s eyes turned chillingly cold. “Do you question me?”
The guard swallowed. “No, sir.” He opened the gate.
Ditheous swept past the guard, jabbing him for good measure, before he came to stand before Andre.
“Why are you here, D?”
Ditheous’ brow rose. “Do you not know?”
It was Andre’s turn to tense. “Come, we shall talk inside.”
Ditheous’ mouth curled up contemptuously. “Are you not afraid of the wolf in the den? I may eat your pups.”
Andre’s eyes flashed. “It would be your last meal.”
Ditheous laughed heartily and slapped Andre on his back so hard the other man stumbled slightly. “Do not worry, the hide of a wolf is too tough, and I prefer my meat without fur.”
Andre’s nostrils flared. “Come,” he said curtly.
Ditheous followed the tense wolf, smile still in place.
“I fear I cannot help you, D.” Andre crossed his legs and sat Indian style on the floor.
“Can’t, or won’t,” Ditheous asked, eyes narrowed.
“Can’t. I truly do not know where your Lieutenant is.”
Ditheous raked his hand through his hair. “The scent was clearly Loopine.”
“I doubt…”
Ditheous interrupted, “There is no doubt.”
Andre stiffened. “Well, she is not here.”
“Yes,” Ditheous growled, “I know. If she were … I would have felt her presence long ago and exacted my revenge upon you.”
Andre jumped to his feet. “You wish to start something, vampyre?”
Ditheous laughed. “I always start something, wolf. But you know me,” his eyes were now darkly menacing, “I never start something that I do not intend to finish.”
Andre was not intimidated. “You may have easily been able to defeat my guard. But I am not such an easy mark as he. I am not the Kitar of this clan for nothing.”
Ditheous waved the threat away. “I did not come here to bandy words with you, Andre.”
“You should not have come at all,” Andre said bitingly.
Ditheous growled. “Your people took my Lieutenant and I want her back.”
“Not my people, D.”
“Mayhap that is true. But the Loopine are somehow involved in her disappearance.”
Andre sighed wearily. He did not need this mess brought to his door. The pack master of Triex was bad news, really bad news. They had a tentative peace, yes, but mainly because Andre was the only Loopine that Ditheous seemed to be able to stand for more than a minute. And Ditheous was the only vampyre Andre didn’t want to rip to bloody shreds—mostly.
But this situation reeked. Something bad was going down. And Andre did not want his pack involved.
Ditheous stepped closer to Andre. The look on his face was pained. It was obvious that what he was going to say did not sit well with him.
“I would appreciate any news that you might have, or that you may be able to gain. I will, of course, pay compensation if any of your leads prove accurate or result in the return of my Lieutenant.”
Andre tilted his head to one side. “Compensation?” Now that was a word that he liked.
Ditheous clenched his hands into fists, but nodded. “Her return is most important to me.”
Andre sighed. “Of course, of course it is. All right, D, I will see what I can manage.”
Ditheous let out a breath. “Thank you.”
Andre’s eyes flashed with surprise. He hadn’t expected an acknowledgement, let alone a thank you, from the testy and bad-tempered vampire.
He smiled slightly then. “No problem, D. No problem at all.”
*
Curious, curious indeed … what was this? Aega watched the interplay between the Vampyre and the Loopine. How strange. Were not the Vampyre and the Loopine supposed to be mortal enemies? She had never known them to interact, other than with instant and deadly combat, and yet here was Persephone’s blood kin, conversing with one of wolf kind.
“More intriguing still,” Aega murmured to the silent wind.
She frowned then. Something was wrong. She felt the slow waning of her power. She was in corporeal form, but her powers were still, for the most part, strong. She should not be this tired. Not from mere invisibility. There was only one explanation…
A God—there was a God present.
“Show yourself,” Aega demanded. “I know you are there. Do not think to hide from me.”
“You really have become a bossy thing, haven’t you?” Hermes said laughingly as he appeared by her side.
Aega scowled. “What do you want?”
“Why, to see you, of course.” Hermes ran a hand down her soft hair.
Aega jerked back, her scowl deepened. “You always were a poor liar, Hermes. Now … what is the real reason for this unexpected visit?”
His expression hardened. “I was merely curious as to your whereabouts, lady.”
“Oh?” she sneered. “I did not realize I needed a keeper?”
Hermes smiled. “Now, now, it is nothing like that, lady. But I must say … I am curious as to what brings you out on a night like this … and in such an odd place.”
“It is none of your concern,” she said coldly.
Aega was furious. Her newly human heart tripped and pulled. She felt the rage pour through each of her cells and flood over. Heat consumed her and her face slowly paled in her anger.
“You will take your hands off me!” She cried. “And if you ever, ever touch me in such a manner again … I shall obliterate you—burn that body of yours to ash.”
Hermes released her. He sneered. “You cannot destroy me, Aega. You are but a minor deity.”
A slow inner fire seemed to work through Aega. Her eyes were glowing brilliantly when she spoke. “Would you like to test me, Hermes?” Aega smiled when she saw the God back down. “I didn’t think so.”
“You are tampering with things that had best be left alone, lady.” Hermes tried for tact.
She laughed. “And when have the Gods left the inhabitants of earth to their own devices? Alone, that is funny.” She turned away. “Now go, your presence offends me.”
“Why you little…” Hermes lunged forward but stopped short of touching her when he saw the ire in her face.
“I wouldn’t suggest it. Go … before I change my mind.”
Hermes narrowed his eyes. “I’ll go for now, lady. But remember, there will come a time when you have need of my assistance … and then, the price for my help will be much higher.” He blew her a kiss and dematerialized.
Aega felt her muscles relax slowly the moment the messenger God had disappeared.
Oh, he was cunning all right. He always had been. In fact, she had never liked the gleam in his eye whenever he looked in her direction. Unfortunately there was very little she could do about the annoying God, as he was the son of Zeus—a low son, but a son still.
Zeus had always been too distracted by his … conquests … to ever pay an inordinate amount of attention to his children. He used Hermes the way he used most of his kin—ill. They were subjugated to the Big Man’s whims. She didn’t blame Hermes—not completely. It was hard enough for her, having the sun and the earth as parents. She could just imagine having to deal with the narcissistic supreme ruler of all. No wonder Hermes had a major complex.
