Spartan Heart, Part One

by Kristine Cheney

  Dorien chuckled. “All right, little Miss Innocent. Reading your mind, I can see that you don’t feel as sorry for Andrew as you say.”

  “That is the truth. The pompous jerk deserved it. How dare he man-handle me like that,” She grumbled. The memory of Andrew’s naughty behavior was getting her all flustered.

  He didn’t want her flustered.

  But he would be glad to manhandle her himself. Taking a step towards her, he was relieved she didn’t pull away. His muscled arms wrapped tight around her. She moaned as he held her close. The feel of her head resting against his shoulder surpassed all the joys he had ever felt.

  “There is one thing I must demand of you, Evangeline. You must agree to it, not only because I am asking you, but because it is for our safety.”

  “I’ll do anything for us!”

  “We cannot let anyone know I am immortal. It must be kept between us. Not everyone would understand. It could place us in danger. I don’t know where Demona is. I don’t want to take any chances of provoking her.”

  Evangeline nodded. “You have my word! I just have one more thing to ask you right now.”

  Reading her mind, Dorien couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, Evangeline. Everything I said about your family jewelry and the color of Gorgo’s eyes is true. The only family line you could have received them was from hers. I have never seen the color otherwise. Now come, my love. Let us return to the Ball. Taryn is beginning to fret over your disappearance, and I have yet to finish twirling you in my arms across the dance floor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Phebus watched in breathless silence. He waited for Dorien and Evangeline to leave the Treasure Recovery Room. Crawling out from behind a covered crate, he had been busy with its contents when the couple entered the room. What he overheard was quite fortunate. Perhaps Demona would finally praise him for this. It was about time something went in his favor. To think of his mistress, he shivered. Murdering Evangeline’s parents hadn’t been enough to endear him to her. The witch was never pleased. Maybe this time she would notice his love and devotion for her.

  As her minion, Demona owned him, body and soul. He fell in love the day they met. She promised him a new existence if he would only become her slave. But she had lied and betrayed him, placing a vile curse on the nectar he drank. It distorted his handsome face and body and destroyed his features. He now repulsed everyone who gazed upon him.

  Demona still agonized over her failure to win Dorien’s affections. Because of that damn Spartan, his life was an eternal Hell. If only the blade he thrust in that warrior’s back would have killed the rogue before his mistress gave him the nectar. The rogue’s constant rejection festered her sadistic need for revenge. Dorien had sought her blessing for a campaign in Minoa. But Demona had lied when she promised him victory over Minoa. If she couldn’t have him, then no one else would have him, either.

  With the slam of the manor door behind him, Phebus didn’t have to look far. He found his mistress in an instant.

  Demona growled at him, as usual. “What do you want, Phebus? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

  “I was working, my mistress. But I’ve heard news. It has to do with your Prince Dorieus.”

  Her lips curled into a decadent smile. He had her attention all right! “Tell me, then! What is it, maggot?”

  Phebus bit his tongue at her insult. “I overheard conversation between Dorieus and Evangeline. They have become intimate. He confessed his love and told her of his immortality. She didn’t reject him as you assumed she would.”

  Demona reached him in a blur. She slapped him hard across his face. Falling to his knees, he cowered before her. “I didn’t assume she would, idiot! Anyway…now that the cat is out of the bag, it is time to deal with the little wench! We must step up our game. Dorieus is mine. I want her dead, Phebus. But before we kill her, I want her to suffer.”

  “Yes, my Lady. But haven’t we done that already?”

  Demona eyes were big and frozen. Her perfect teeth were gritted. She looked possessed. “Killing Evangeline’s parents and setting loose a rabid dog has not broken her. We must violate her. I must do something now.” Demona’s focused stare was intense. Falling into a trance, her body shook in possession. Shaking her head, Phebus watched lucidity return to her eyes. He shrunk in fear as his mistress screamed in misery.

  “No! It can’t be!” Tears fell from her peacock blue eyes.

  “What is it, mistress?”

  “How can my love be so careless? How could he do this to me? It should be me, not her!” Throwing any projectiles she could get her hands on, Demona sobbed like a child.

  “Let me help you! Tell me what the vision showed you.”

  “Dorieus has impregnated the little hussy.”

  “She is going to have his child?”

  “No, you moron! She is going to have his children! She’s having twins.”

  “Two babes?” Phebus asked in wonder.

  Demona slapped him hard again. His hand flew to his stinging cheek.

  “Dorieus knows nothing of his impending fatherhood. The little twit doesn’t plan to tell him of the dreadful news. I have two tasks for you. Summon Dorieus. If he values the life of his little harlot, he’ll heed my call! Inform him I only wish to chat and vow to release him when we’re finished. I’m asking for him to be my guest for ten lousy days. I promise it won’t be that bad.”

  “And the other task, Mistress?”

  “Find the statue of Philip. I have plans for him.”

  “But my Lady, where did we leave Philip? We changed so many of Dorieus’ men. I have a hard time remembering every one of them.”

  “We only changed five men, idiot!” Demona counted on her fingers. “Let’s see….Dorieus, Philip, Thessalus, Paraebates, and Celeas. Find him, Phebus! I don’t care if you have to go back to Sicily and dig up the whole wretched battleground. Find that Croton statue and bring him to me. I want him at my disposal. Don’t you dare fail me, Phebus, or you will face my wrath.”

  Phebus shook as he grimaced. “As you wish, my mistress.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Phebus waited for the cover of night. He crawled his way onto the Montgomery Estate. It would only be a matter of time before Dorien sensed his presence. Without a doubt, the Spartan would confront his intrusion.

  With the shake of his head, he kept his fears in check. He wasn’t sure what frightened him more…his insane mistress, or being on the losing end of a ticked off Spartan. He would never forget the skills of a Spartan warrior. He could only hope Dorien would listen before he tore him apart.

  His body nestled between thick brush and the estate wall, his voice called out into the darkness. Immortals had excellent hearing; one of many attributes. Dorien would find him.

  * * * *

  Dorien snuggled Evangeline in his arms. He waited for the morning to bring her back to him. She slumbered much harder, even snoring at times. He was concerned about her constant fatigue and exhaustion.

  His head jerked suddenly. The voice was deliberate, so clear. Someone was calling his name from outside of the house. He slipped from the bed in silence. With the latch of the door behind him, he ran across the estate grounds. He would hunt the one who dared trespass here and call him by his name. Stealth in his pursuit, he came from behind. Dorien grabbed and pushed the stranger against the stone estate wall.

  The man howled in pain. Dorien crushed his body mercilessly.

  “Please, Dorien! I mean no harm. Please hear me out!”

  “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

  “My name is Phebus! I was sent by my mistress Demona!”

  Dorien growled in anger to hear the mention of her name.

  So the witch had finally found him.

  Dorien shook Phebus hard enough to rattle his teeth. He forced the minion to face him, wincing at the sight of scarred hideous features. “What does she want with me?”

  Phebus closed his eyes and cowered. His mouth wide open, noth
ing would come out. Dorien grew impatient.

  “I will say this once more! What does the witch want with me? Hasn’t she done enough to mess up my existence?” Recognition hit him. “Wait! I know you!”

  “Please! I come peacefully. Demona feels bad for what has transpired between you both. She promises if you’ll come with me, she will behave herself.”

  Dorien growled in the back of his throat.

  “Ten Days, Dorien! Ten days is all she asks! No weird stuff. You will be her guest. She’s here in London, so you don’t have to go very far.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Then she’ll get pretty nasty. If you value the life of your woman, you’ll be wise to heed her call.”

  Dorien roared. “How do I know she won’t endanger Evangeline while I am away?”

  “You have our word that no harm will come to her while you’re with Demona.”

  Dorien searched Phebus’ mind. The filthy scarred minion spoke the truth. ”When does the witch expect me to arrive?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Evangeline sleeps. I refuse to leave her for ten days without explanation.”

  “I figured as much. Leave the wench a note, or call your minion. He can explain it to her.”

  “I don’t have a minion.”

  “Whatever you call him. Tell him to deal with her. Tell her you’re on to the people who have been trying to kill her.”

  Phebus' admission didn’t go unnoticed. He foolishly gave his mistress away.

  “Evan’s parents! The rabid dog! It was you and Demona!” Dorien crushed Phebus against the stone wall. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now!”

  Phebus screamed in pain. His agony turned into wicked pleasure.

  “You can’t kill me! I may be a minion, but I’m still immortal. If you make Demona angry, you’ll only sentence Evangeline to death. You must think fast! Am I worth it, Dorien?”

  Dorien squeezed Phebus’ neck. With the risk of harm to Evangeline, he thought better of it. Releasing him roughly, Phebus fell to the ground with a thick, crumbled thud.

  “Excellent choice, Dorien. Now let’s get on with this. Demona gets feisty if she’s kept waiting.”

  Dorien rushed inside the house. Grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper, he wrote Evangeline’s letter. He was grateful for his red-haired tutor.

  My Dearest Evan:

  I know this is sudden, but I must leave you for ten days. I have come across some evidence of who may be behind some of the incidents you have encountered. Do not fear for my safety, as you know I am extremely safe in that regard.

  I have called my assistant, Tommy. He will be at your disposal day or night. If you need anything, even company, please call him. He is excited to get to know you better.

  Please stay out of trouble! I shall think of you often while I am gone. I love you. I will be home to hold you before you know it.

  Eternally yours,

  Dorien

  His note rested on Evangeline’s nightstand. He left a trail of tender kisses across her forehead. The warmth of her skin permeated his lips. Dorien hated to leave her. But he would breach the threshold of Hades to protect the woman he loved.

  Slipping out of the house, he walked towards the sweated smell of Phebus. What was on Demona’s mind? She was no longer in a position to make any demands. Didn’t she know he wanted to kill her? One thing was for certain. He didn’t trust her. Evangeline’s safety was a definite priority. Demona would find Hell on her doorstep if she dared to touch a single hair on Evangeline’s head.

  He felt a little better knowing Tommy had specific instructions. He just had to survive the car ride with the stinky minion. Dorien controlled his anger as Phebus drove. But he resisted the urge to beat the snot out of him. The anger he felt towards Phebus paled in comparison to how he felt for Demona.

  He absolutely loathed her.

  At least he would know the location of her lair, which might come in handy. He would know right where to go if he ever wanted to wring the little witch’s neck.

  Demona had gone too far. Logic warned this visit couldn’t end cordial. He refused to entertain any demands that would place Evangeline in harm’s way.

  Love. This had everything to do with Demona’s sick obsession. She’d always had some twisted affinity for him since they were children. He always sensed evil in her. Everything about her naturally repulsed him. He recalled her pleasure in killing animals. People kept their children away from her. She was a habitual liar who couldn’t be trusted.

  It had floored him when the Oracles chose her to join them. Demona ruined the whole validity for the need of Oracles. Dorien ceased going for their visions when he realized she would have a say in his future. He risked their anger for refusing to consult them for his conquests in Africa.

  But he had stood his ground. He had later tried to soften Demona’s wrath when he returned for a blessing to take Minoa. The witch had lied. Instead of success, he found betrayal and death. She had sent her minions to warn his enemies. They lied in wait for his attack. He and his men had failed and died by disadvantage. He still couldn’t grasp the reasons why she cursed him to frozen immortality.

  Shaking his head, he accepted that was typical Demona. It was senseless to find a solution. But now things were different. He no longer cared about his past. All that mattered now was his future. He wanted Evangeline by his side.

  Stepping from the car, Dorien nodded at Phebus. He would follow the wretched minion into the manor. The manor house was huge. Typical Tudor manse, it was actually quite beautiful.

  Once inside, Dorien took a good look around. Demona had kept to the old ways. Dark from the lack of electricity, candles were lit throughout the manor. He was instantly glad he was immortal. The stifling July heat would not affect his cold skin. With caution, he followed Phebus up the stairs and read the minion’s mind. Demona had prepared a room for him.

  He expected chains and shackles on the walls. Dorien was relieved to find the room warm and inviting. The walls were a soft yellow. The pillared bed was covered in red quilted splendor. The dresser and matching furniture were fine in cherry and marble.

  The wall’s display of art was quite generous. Every canvas was exceptional, and the talent was highly creative and artsy, whimsical in almost a child-like manner, yet still sharp and four dimensional. Each piece was signed, like Demona knew the artist personally. The initials S.A. were stroked in fancy script, immortalized in crimson ink on the bottom left hand corner of every piece.

  In spite of his inability to sleep, his desire for privacy was a welcome idea. Demona must have hired someone to do the décor. He couldn’t find any attribute in the woman that could ever be considered warm or inviting. Sensing a presence behind him, he turned and crouched defensively, ready to pounce.

  “Now, now, Dorieus! Is that how you greet an old friend?” Demona hugged him tightly.

  Rigid, Dorien refused to return the beautiful woman’s unwelcome embrace.

  “And it isn’t true, I decorated the room myself, love. Although with you, handsome, the chains and shackles would be kind of kinky, don’t you think?”

  “Not on your life, Demona,” he answered dryly.

  She was the same as the last time he saw her. Striking in looks, she was petite and thin; blessed with a woman’s curves. Long, chocolate brown hair was a gorgeous contrast to her white skin. Bright blue peacock eyes would turn any man’s head. They were lightly squinted from centuries of hatred. Dorien couldn’t help but wonder how she would look if her eyes were full and round.

  Demona stared at him like she wanted to devour him. “I’m glad you’ve decided to come, Dorieus. It really means the world to me.”

  “The last I heard, my attendance here was mandatory. You threatened harm to Evangeline if I refused. You know well why I am here.”

  “Testy, testy!” Demona clicked her tongue. “Anger doesn’t suit you, my love.”

  “After the Hell you have put me through, woman, you have no i
dea what suits me. If you don’t mind, I am here for business. I hope you didn’t bring me here to walk down memory lane. Every memory I have of you has lies, pain, and deceit involved.”

  Demona cringed. “I know I’ve been naughty at times, Dorieus. But I’ve always had your best interests at heart.”

  Dorien snorted. “The only interests you have, witch, are your own.”

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Spartan! Can’t we just play nice? Before you know it, our visit will be over and you’ll be back in the arms of your twit, err, I mean your mortal that you hold in such high regard.”

  Dorien lifted a black eyebrow.

  “You freshen up and meet me downstairs in the dining room. Some good food and company will cheer you up.”

  Dorien growled, his patience already wearing thin. “We don’t eat, Demona.”

  “Of course we don’t have to eat, but we can still eat and enjoy nonetheless. Let’s just say that the main reason for our visit is so I can educate you on your new immortal life. If anything you’ll leave with a wealth of information. I can’t wait to share my knowledge with you. Hurry now! Don’t keep me waiting.” She gave him a lingering kiss on his cheek and turned to leave.

  Dorien wiped pale pink lipstick off his face like it was poison. He actually shuddered as she closed the door. The thumps of his shoes bounced off the candlelit stairs. Smelling his way into the dining room, he chuckled to think he had acquired an additional talent for sensing evil…he found Demona right away.