In an alleyway littered with torn and wadded up throw-away newspapers, the type filled with classified ads, were abruptly picked up and thrown as Alecto walked into existence. As the papers settled, Alecto leisurely strolled to a corner and inspected a pair of beat-up metal trashcans. She picked up a dented lid, graffiti sprayed across the top.
Checking her nails, she leaned against one wall. With a flash, she held out the trash can lid and it made a gong sound when Juan slammed into it, running at full speed.
The back of his skull cracked onto the sidewalk with a sickening thud. Gloved hands tugged his limp body into the alley.
Moments later, his eyes blinked. He squinted and tried to move his head. No luck, as his head was firmly gripped by his hair.
"Let me go, bitch! I know my rights!" He tried to pull his head away, but Alecto's hands held firm.
Alecto twisted Juan's head sideways.
"Behold."
A young girl, about 8, dressed in a yellow party dress, black glitter shoes tied with a satin bow, appeared by the wall. She smiled and fixed Juan with her deep brown eyes. Then, the front of her party dress became soaked in crimson red, spreading out from her chest. She frowned and stared at Juan.
Juan's eyes bulged.
"She had such a high opinion of her handsome young cousin. In your next life, if you go through another gang initiation, don't shoot into a kids' birthday party. Especially if it's your own family." Alecto let go of Juan's hair, and wiped her hands on his shirt.
She stood and with a single motion, the katana was unsheathed and descended. With a twist of her wrists, she flicked the blood from the blade and reset the weapon into its saya.
She walked to the small child and crouched to pick her up.
"Let's go for a bike ride, ok? We need to get you where you belong, sweetie. Say bye-bye to your cousin."
Alecto sat the little girl on the rear of her motorcycle, and soundlessly glided out of the alley. As she turned, a small rift in space/time opened up and Alecto sped into the bright gap.
***
San Marin, CA
In a secluded street along the western edge of the small town of San Marin stands a large Victorian-style house. The wood siding painted mild gray-blue. The house had gables and peaked roofs, complete with a huge wraparound porch and brilliantly green lawn. The enormous yard is shaded by huge oaks, elms and the occasional ponderosa pine stretching skyward.
This house occupies a special place. To anyone walking past, it's a standard west coast house; in reality it occupies space in both the mortal earthly plane and the astral plane. It straddles between the world of the gods and the world of humans.
A silver shimmering in the air and Megaera appeared, striding with a purpose. Her pale dress flowed as she walked around the house to the backyard. In the back, shaded by additional trees, is a large patio with four lounges facing a small plot of well-groomed grass, beyond which was a large tract of garden. Real-estate people would kill and maim to list this this classic beauty.
An older woman toiled in the middle of the garden, surrounded by tall stands of corn, beans, cucumbers, pumpkins. She wore soiled dungarees and a man's striped dress shirt that billowed untucked.
She was busy poking dead twigs into the ground. Each twig shifted and morphed into a green healthy plant, growing, twisting, and reaching for the sky. Then she'd move to another spot. As she planted, a variety of flowering plants sprang up, bearing red, glistening chili peppers, yellow banana peppers, bean vines spreading out, bell peppers, each popping into existence and quickly ripening. Bees flew about, confused, agitated, trying to visit the flowers before the blooms withered and fell of the plant. Some bees gave up in frustration and flew erratically to the hive, vowing to just give up, maybe become drones.
Megaera walked up, stood, and glanced about, then puffed out a long sigh. Gaia stopped her work, and turned to Megaera. The entire backyard brightened as she smiled, her teeth glowing white, a contrast to her tawny skin.
"Megaera, how nice of you to join me." She waved at a spot by a row of dirt. "I'm just about to start on the next row."
Megaera kneeled and began poking sticks into the earth. This time they became various tomato plants.
"You're bothered. What happened?" Another stick, another tomato plant.
"It went off the rails. I lost control of the target." She sighed. "He almost got away. A human cop! A HUMAN! Interfered, shot and killed him."
"Well, it's the final results that count, dear." Gaia stopped for a moment. She turned to face Megaera. "You were also seen."
"Yes! By that cop!" Megaera stabbed a stick into the earth. This one began to turn into a tomato plant, but then it halted, shuddered, wilted, and fell over. "I hate cherry tomatoes!" she complained and sat back.
She added: "Mother, it was a cop! A mortal! I may have to kill him. No mortal sees me unless I want them to see me!"
"That's beside the point. You were just distracted. Perhaps this policeman distracted you?" Gaia sat back on her haunches and studied Megaera.
"He interfered!" Megaera became even more frustrated.
"The target met his fate, didn't he? And the old man is free to continue his journey, correct?"
"Yes. But..."
"The job is done. The petitioner is freed to move on. Be content, Megaera. Leave the mortal alone. Now we plant the garden, dear," Gaia cooed as she thrust another handful of sticks into Megaera's hand.
Megaera sat back and examined the sticks in her hand. "Plant the garden. Water the garden. Weed the garden. Why don't you just tell the damned weeds not to grow?"
"I could. But I prefer the work, it focuses the mind. You need the focus, dear." Gaia returned to the furrows and began creating grape vines.
"Grapes now?" Megaera sighed.
"I plan to make some more wine," Gaia smiled.
Megaera stood up and slapped her hands together. "I need to find out everything I can about that mortal." Megaera stalked away.
"Oh, dear," Gaia whispered. She watched Megaera stride off towards the house, on a mission. "That poor mortal."
She returned to her gardening, working hard as she began to figure out what to do. Her Furies had a bad habit of getting up a head of steam and making things worse. In the past, it was usually Tisiphone who had the unfortunate run-ins with mortal men. Few worked out without someone perishing as a result of her anger. Tisiphone had grown out of the habit, finally, and recently kept to herself in her travels.
Gaia's memory took her deep into the past.
***
Thebes, 350 B.C.E.
A young man was laying in the tall grass at the edge of a meadow, his flock of goats and sheep were busy mowing the long grass, taking their time. Cithaeron stretched and gazed up at the small puffs of clouds. The sun was warm on his skin, but the breeze was cooling. He chewed on a stalk of long grass and he looked to his constant companion, his dog, Dimitris. A large white dog, with black patches across his back. His attention was taken by something in a copse of trees at the edge of the meadow.
Cithaeron slowly got to his feet and tried to spot movement in the trees. Perhaps a wolf. He moved to get a better look.
A figure was in the shadows. Not a wolf, but human. The figure stepped into the light between two trees. Long, flowing black hair, a touch of deep red, framed the woman's angular face. She wore a red gown. Between her well-shaped face and eyes, her perfect figure, it could make her one of the many models employed by the artisans when sculpting goddesses.
Cithaeron himself could also model, his features classic, well-shaped nose and dark, curly hair falling over his forehead. His simple shepard's clothing wrapped tightly around his torso, belted with a yellow sash. He stood still and watched the woman, who was intently watching him.
Finally, Cithaeron decided to see who this woman was. She was a stranger to his village, and she appeared to be of royalty. He got closer and was able to see that she had the brightest green eyes he'd ever seen. She smiled, shyly, and hel
d out her hand. Cithaeron drew closer and took her hand.
"My lady, who are you?" he asked, quietly.
"I am the one who's been watching you since the last full moon. You are quite pleasing to my eyes, shepard boy." Her voice was melodious, like an aulos played by the women in the town theater. She let her gaze wander over the young man's physique.
She held a finger to her lips and grew him closer, into an embrace. She took his hand and led him deeper into the woods. “I have picked out a spot I hope you find pleasing. I know you will please me, I intend to return the favor.”
She let her gown fall to the forest floor. Cithaeron gaped at her beauty. His heart was about to burst from his chest as the woman drew him in for a lingering embrace.
An hour later, the woman's moans of pleasure were like music to Cithaeron's ears. He'd never been with a woman before, much less one that could be a goddess. He dressed and looked out to the meadow, and the flock was still grazing. He turned and watched as the woman tied the sash around her waist.
Cithaeron started to say something, but the woman held a finger to his mouth.
"Say nothing of this to anyone, and we can meet tomorrow," the woman flashed a dazzling smile. Such white teeth! "I am called Tisiphone, but some call me Tilphousia. Tomorrow, my young hero."
He was dazzled when her form grew transparent and she was gone before his eyes! This, he knew, was truly a goddess.
He was looking forward to the next day. Would she be able to find him as he was grazing his flock on the next pasture over. He whistled to Dimitris.
"Let's get them home, boy!"
The next morning was turning into another beautiful Mediterranean day. Cithaeron aimed his flock to the pasture shared by two other shepherds. It was hemera Dios, the "day of Zeus", and his day on the leeward side of the mountain.
He arrived as the sun was clearing the hills, and he was both nervous and anxious to meet the goddess again. It was well past noon when the goddess reappeared. She beckoned to him and led him into an area deep in the woods. She kneeled and had him sit beside her.
"Young man, you are so beautiful. I must tell you, I am a goddess. I also must confess to you, I am in love with you! For weeks I have followed you and watched as you tended to your flock." She drew him close and they embraced. Again, they made love for. They were interrupted when he heard his father's horn blowing.
He rose and quickly dressed. "Tomorrow?"
"Oh yes!" Tisiphone replied. She stayed undressed and allowed Cithaeron's eyes to gaze upon her figure. Then she vanished.
Cithaeron made his way back to the pasture to find his father and two other shepherds waiting for him. He looked around and his flock was missing over half the sheep. He felt sick inside.
"Where have you been? Sleeping in the shade again?" his father demanded. "Look. A wolf attacked while you were off sleeping!"
Everywhere were the bodies of his family's sheep, torn and bloodied. "They would have taken the whole flock if I hadn't of come by to check on you! Your laziness disgusts me," he spat and charged off.
The other two boys just looked at Cithaeron in pity. He walked among the dead sheep until he found the body of his dog, also torn limb from limb.
"Dimitris!" He knelt and held his dog to his chest. He could not help it; the tears began to flow. He got to his feet and carried the body of his dog back to the village.
That evening, he stayed in his room, unable to eat or sleep. His sisters tried to get him to talk, but he was torn inside. The love of a goddess, he knew, was wrong. Yet, the women of his village were always hoping some god would show up to take them away from their ordinary lives. Priests have warned everyone about the curse of the gods. Anyone who dallied with a god could find themselves cursed by another jealous god. For the gods got angry and jealous as any village man.
It seems the curse of the gods for Cithaeron was the loss of his dog and half of his flock. He resolved to make up for this, and swore to never see the goddess again. No matter how much his loins stirred for her body.
He stayed in the next day, his younger brothers taking what was left of the flock to a small pasture a few stadion from the village. That evening, they returned, an uneventful day.
Cithaeron stayed inside for the next week, depressed, wary of encountering his father, who was still very angry.
He threw himself into performing extra chores around the house and in the stables to regain his father's good graces. He climbed onto the roof and began to work on the small house's roof. The roof had leaked in the last rain, and his father had put off hiring a craftsman to repair the tiles. It was simple work. All he had to do was remove the cracked tiles and replace them some spares in the stable.
As he worked, a boy arrived, waving a small folded letter. Cithaeron slid to the ground and took the letter. Expensive parchment, sealed with red wax. He did not recognize the seal's art. He admired the beautiful lettering on the outside. He carefully pried the seal loose and opened the letter.
He read it carefully. It was a love letter from the goddess, Tisiphone.
He threw it into the refuse pile and made up his mind to get that woman, goddess or not, out of his mind.
Months passed and he was finally given another flock to tend, being admonished not to wander out of sight of the flock. He had a small puppy, training it to help tend the flock. Like all dogs, this one was a natural at rounding up the sheep. He decided to name this one Ajax, a warrior's name for this frisky bundle of black and white fur.
Several days passed when the goddess returned. She appeared walking towards him. Cithaeron could tell that the woman was greatly agitated. Agitated was an understatement. Furious immediately comes to mind.
"How dare you, a youth, ignore me, a goddess?" she shrieked. Her voice carried and echoed off the surrounding hills.
The diatribe continued for several minutes while Cithaeron retreated to a large tree. He was near the top of the mountain and the sides sloped away steeply. He had no place to run, so he held up his hands.
"The other gods have cursed me for being with you!" he cried.
"Then," Tisiphone growled. "You die."
He went around the tree and watched in horror as Tisiphone pulled a large serpent from her long hair, her eyes flashing red as she pitched the snake towards him.
The serpent bite into his neck, then wound itself tightly around the boy's neck, it's coils tightening. Cithaeron's hands grasped at the coils. The snake's body tightened and tightened. The boy's face turned red, then blue as the snake tightened its deadly grip.
Tisiphone stood back as the boy fought the serpent. Finally, he fell to the ground, legs kicking, then was suddenly still.
Her eyes still flashing red, she gathered up her snake and dissolved into vapor.
***
Gaia sighed and looked towards the house. She knew it could end badly for both Megaera and the young man. This would take some tinkering.
Her mind made up, she moved to another row and began planting squash and beans.
Adjacent to the garden was a barn and stable. A structure that would surprise the neighbors if they could see this far into the Furies' domain. Gaia stood just as Tisiphone rode up on her black motorcycle. As she climbed off, the motorcycle morphed into a huge black stallion. The horse shook itself, allow its mane to flow down it's long neck. He trotted to the door and pulled on a small rope, letting himself into the stable.
Tisiphone walked across the lush lawn to greet Gaia. She looked at the garden. It was in full bloom, a riot of green.
"You've been busy," Tisiphone observed.
"Occupies my mind. Megaera had an issue this morning. Walk with me," Gaia said as she turned and walked to the rear of the garden, not waiting for her daughter.
"I bring a message from Johanoai." Tisiphone jogged to keep up with the older woman.
"What is it?"
"A vague warning of trouble. A great battle to be fought," Tisiphone relayed.
"That one just sees the negative.
It's no wonder his followers are all in secluded mountains. He keeps them all frightened little children," Gaia complained.
"That's all Delfina had to pass along," Tisiphone pointed out.
"How she's doing these days?"
"She's looking older."
"She's a couple of hundred years old, of course she looks old," Gaia muttered. "Between your news and Megaera's morning, I may retire back to Mount Olympus."
CHAPTER FOUR
San Marin
Dan drove an unmarked cop car sedately through the darkening streets. He had checked out a cruiser earlier as his car was in the shop yet again. This time it was some sensor under the engine. One tiny piece of plastic decides to fry itself and the car is immobile.
Dan longed for the time when cars had simpler engines. He'd grown up in the greater San Fernando Valley and would watch as antique cars would cruise by in the early, cool evenings. Classic Corvettes, the late 50s Chevy Bel Aire, early Thunderbirds.
Out of habit honed by being a policeman for fifteen years, he scanned the sidewalks and took notice of every little detail. Cars crowded the street. There was something happening on this block. A trio of young women to his left caught his attention. He slowed and pulled even with the trio.
A tall young woman in a beige skirt and sweater was in the middle. She had her bright blonde hair tied back and her face was soft, rounded, with little make-up. She was flanked by two of her fellow sorority sisters. Adrianne had her dark hair in a shorter face-framing style. Kaitlin had longer light brown hair, left to fall around her shoulders.
The trio walked with their heads down, their faces dimly lit by the light of smart phones. One looked familiar to Dan. He slowed the cruiser and aimed the car across traffic to the left lane, his window gliding down.
"Bree? Brianna?" Dan called.
Angels of Vengeance: The Furies, Book 1 Page 3
