Titan Elite (Demigods Duet Book 2)
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Demigods Duet
Part Two:
TITAN ELITE
By
Kolleen Fraser
Copyright © 2016 by Kolleen Fraser Author
Cover © 2016 Kolleen Fraser
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without written permission except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Blurb:
With her experiences at the Academy behind her,
Phoenyx Ember and her fellow Titans leave the safety of the island and embark on the Titan tour.
The violent arena battles aren’t the only obstacles they will have to face.
Expectations are high and nothing is as it seems.
Life off the island is a very different world, indeed.
Money buys freedom and power is always for sale.
Welcome to Your Life
Phoenyx
My breath catches in my throat as I fill my aching lungs with the cool evening air. The rock quarry echoes every sound around us. Exhaustion is evident in my submissive stance and staggered breath. Muscles taut, quivering but holding strong as I clench my hands into fists, dragging small rocks into my heated grasp. Pulling in a couple of deep breaths, I get my head together. I don’t want to get knocked on my ass again.
“Get up!” Mason growls impatiently from somewhere behind me. He’s pushing me harder in today’s session than any others. Verbal abuse aside, I am grateful that he doesn’t treat me like a delicate flower. I get enough of that from Marcus these days.
“Shut up, I need a minute,” I say, rolling my stiff neck. Training with Mason is a necessary evil. These new powers need to be under control before the tour begins or I will be a liability to the whole team. Getting a handle on them is easier with him here. He has been an amazing help. Suppressing them was the first skill he taught me, that way they are compartmentalized and I can access them at will. Honestly I have no use for them, they make me weak. I have epic pyro skills, why sully it up with some mediocre powers I haven’t mastered as well.
“You are like a fucking child with this shit, Nyx. Focus,” his deep voice rumbles at me, making me flinch. I grit my teeth against every word I want to shout back at him. He knows calling me a child will egg me on, make me attack in anger and not precision. He’s testing me.
“It’s hard to stay focused when you won’t shut up,” I whine. This is standard protocol, that I accept, but in this moment, he’s to blame for the pressure I’m under and the expectations these powers throw on me. If looks could kill, Jacob Mason would be writhing on the ground in pain. The image of him at my mercy puts a smile on my face; if only I had the power to bring a man like him to his knees.
Mason is livid at my speed, or lack thereof. What is with him today? He charges toward me, his hands alight with power, two boulders rising high up into the air beside him, changing directions they aim straight for me. Freaking boulders! They crash to the ground on either side where I squat.
“Get up,” he demands.
Another two are launched my way. I scramble to my feet. “What the fuck are you doing?” Dodging the first one as it smashes to the ground a few feet away, the next even closer. Then come the water orbs, not giving me a chance to regroup after the first assault. I get knocked down again, this time I stay down. I don’t know what he’s trying to prove or what lesson he’s trying to teach me but it’s obvious I have failed. He doesn’t stop or offer me a hand up. No, he starts running toward me, stopping inches from my face.
“This is supposed to be hard. This will be your life, out there. We aren’t finished yet. Quit bitching, get up off your ass and fight back.” He walks twenty steps away from me, turns to face me, crossing his tense muscled arms over his chest. Waiting.
“So dramatic.” I mumble. My life, my survival. These are the Titans we are talking about here. I will be fighting, yes, and there is a real chance I could get injured but this isn’t life or death. He’s pushing me so hard, determination shines in his eyes. My stomach drops; what if this tour won’t be as easy as I expected. Nonsense, it’s fighting, that is something I know I can do. He just has a bug up his ass about something else.
Closing my eyes, I take two breaths, letting the calming energy flow through me. Training has been hard, I know what I need to do, I have to remember everything he has taught me. Standing on shaky legs, I face him. Seeing the smirk on his face, feeling the faith he has in me, makes my heart swell. When he sees I have myself together, he raises his arms and beckons me to attack. Another two breaths and I feel the powers that were once so cluttered and overwhelming, flow smoothly through every cell in my body. I feel my strength restoring and when I meet his eyes, I am ready. I got this.
I go on the offensive, attacking him with all I can muster. Fire balls, water orbs, and a few smaller rocks to pack a punch. Charging forward, I unleash a battle cry. His smirk erupts into a full blown laugh at my exaggerated battle cry. Clearly, he doesn’t realize I am a force to be reckoned with. I am a freaking beast!
He dodges a couple of my attacks and I after I nail him a few times he sharpens his stance. We continue to spar for another hour until the sun dips behind the hills. I am a sweaty mess and properly schooled by my trainer and best friend. My only friend these days.
Our ride back to Marcus’s beach house is heavy with silence. The upcoming tour is weighing on both of us. The team’s impending arrival has popped the little bubble of happiness we have been living in. Marcus comes and goes as he pleases, usually leaving just the two of us rattling around in that big house. It was easy to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. Calm peaceful bliss, I’m going to miss being bored with him when the chaos of the tour takes over our lives.
“Marcus says everyone is scheduled to arrive this week,” I say, trying to fill the void. Anything to lessen the tension that is building in this car. He doesn’t want to disrupt our lives any more than I do, but duty calls.
“Great,” he grumbles.
“Ianna is arriving earliest of course, so we can spend some time catching up before the rest of the team trails in a couple days later. I miss her so much, feels like I haven’t seen her in ages,” I babble on. “Silas said he will be here on Thursday with the rest of the team,” I state, gaging his reaction. He tenses up at the mention of Silas’s name. Rightfully so, considering how close we’ve gotten over the past few months. Nothing has happened but the possibility of something sizzles in the air when we are alone. The only thing in our way is me wanting to talk with Silas.
“Everything all right?” I ask, watching his profile closely. Nothing but his poker face. He is truly the hardest person to read, especially if he’s mad. He becomes his own fortress of solitude.
His grip on the steering wheel tightens, turning his knuckles white, his jaw clenched. “Just fucking peachy.”
“Don’t be like that.” I have enough on my mind today without having to deal with his mood swings. They say women are moody but we’ve got nothing on a brooding man who wants to talk but doesn’t actually want to talk.
“How should I be? Excited that your boyfriend is going to be in our house, trying to get into your bed?” Not this again. I feel like a broken record the amount of times we have been over this.
“Things have changed, it’s not like that with Silas. I promise you he isn’t getting into my bedroom or my panties.�
� I repeat for the hundredth time in the last week. But you are always welcome to jump in them any time, handsome.
He gives me a stern look of disbelief, “Yeah right, I forgot, you broke up and forgot to tell him.”
“Oh my god, you are ridiculous! What was I supposed to do, break up with him over a text? I thought we had already gone our separate ways. If he’s coming here it’s because he wants to talk to me,” I sigh, “it’s complicated.” He has this crazy idea in his thick head, no matter how many times I argue the fact, that I want to be with Silas.
“It always is,” he replies.
I shake my head; after today’s sessions I don’t have the energy to argue with him. Choosing rather to stare out the window in silence for the rest of the ride home, watching the sunset paint the sky with pinks and yellows. Wondering what the sunsets will be like when we are on tour, will the city lights steal the stars?
The team is meeting up here, at Marcus’s house before jumping on tour. I haven’t seen anyone since we separated at the Academy a few months ago, Silas included. We’ve spoken on the phone a few times and he tries to text me when he can but his father keeps him really busy. Our last few exchanges were awkward at best. Our time apart has created this wall between us; his responsibility to his father, mine to Marcus is pushing us further away. Honestly, I thought we had broken up after the first month passed by with no contact. So when Silas announced he was going to be joining us on tour with the Titans, I was more than a little confused. I can only imagine what his father’s reaction was.
Mr. Gage hates the idea of his perfect son hanging around with a bunch of demigod rejects. Me being included in that group, of course. I know what we look like to the outside world. We are violent, we are unstable, but it doesn’t mean we are bad people exactly. I’ve said as much to Silas, it’s a touchy subject for us, always has been. I just don’t see how I could ever fit into his world, so apparently he decided to fit into mine. His effort is too little too late.
Putting his father’s aspirations aside, he’s coming on tour with us. Competing and everything. The thought of Silas fighting seems bizarre, he’s usually so diplomatic and stoic. Ever the politician’s son, groomed for greatness. His clean cut appearance may fool some but he is more than capable of defending himself in the arena. He’s powerful, brave and strong. He doesn’t have the stigma the rest of us do; that and he has a promising future ahead of him.
I don’t want him here, I thought he would come to me after Marcus gave me my memories back, make me feel safe and loved and we would be able to overcome anything together but his dismissal of me as soon as his father snapped his fingers doesn’t sit well with me. I’m no different, of course. Family is family and I would run to Marcus’s side in a heartbeat if he asked me to. His father’s opinion of me will eventually poison him against me, if it hasn’t already. It’s better for everyone if I end whatever we have now. I don’t know what he expects from me when he arrives, maybe he has already moved on.
Mason pulls into the garage, we climb out of his car, he takes my hand in his, saying, “I was on edge today, I’m sorry.”
Reaching out I squeeze his hand. “We are all on edge, it’s okay.” I lean in and kiss his rough cheek. “Good night, Jake,” I whisper, heading upstairs, to my bedroom, alone. I have been toying with calling him Jake, I like the way it rolls off my tongue. It makes me feel like I have some kind of claim on him that no one else has. That thought causes a happy warmth to run through my body.
After I shower off the filth from my workout I collapse on the bed, and like every night I’ve spent in this house I lay here resisting the urge to crawl into bed with Mason. I swear I can feel him across the hall, his energy calling to mine, hear his heartbeat counting the moments we spend apart. Fluffing my pillow again, I sigh. Being responsible sucks.
The Truth or Something Like It
Sunlight dances across the room, waking me from my slumber. As usual, it takes me a few moments to remember where I am. I’ve been living at Marcus’s house since the day he, not so gently, welcomed me into this beautiful and tragic reality.
This stunning house sits on a beautiful sand swept beach, a few hours’ drive from the Academy. The house is beautiful but entirely too sterile for my liking. Marcus’s decorating style veers more towards military sterility than cozy. Most of the time it’s only Stella, Mason and myself but there is a staff responsible for keeping this place pristine. Marcus usually has one meal with the both of us a day, just to catch up.
Officially deemed, Phoenyx Warren, the only daughter of the late, not so great James Warren, JW to his friends. Godfather of the new world order. But to his family, he was known as a murderer, monster, child abuser, wife beater; basically my greatest nightmare come to life, only he happens to be dead. On top of that title, I am sister to the rich and powerful Marcus Ryan Warren. Where I fit into this life, I have no idea. We are awkwardly trying to find some kind of middle ground between strangers and siblings.
If it weren’t for Mason, I don’t think me living here would have worked out very well. There have been more than a few times when Mason has stood between us, mediating. If you would have told me a year ago that I would be living with Jake Mason and Marcus Ryan, I would have called you bat shit crazy. And yet, here we are, three peas in a four thousand square foot ocean front pod. The world is a crazy place.
I hear a light knock on my door before it opens. I don’t bother to look up, I know who it is. Her feet shuffle across the floor toward the balcony, opening the doors. The cool sea air filters in and yet I stay still, pretending to be asleep for no other reason than I still have no idea what I’m supposed to say to her.
“Breakfast is set on the balcony. Jacob and Mr. Ryan will be joining you shortly. Do you require anything else of me, Miss Warren?” Stella is Marcus’s housekeeper or maid, or whatever she’s called, she does everything for him. I loathe being doted on, needless to say our relationship is uncomfortable at best.
With a sigh, I sit up in bed, stretching. My body still aches from yesterday’s workout. With a grumble, I scoot to the edge of the mattress. This is one aspect of my new life I haven’t been able to get used to; being polite to the staff who think barging into my bedroom before coffee is acceptable behavior
“Please, call me Phoenyx. You know this whole servant thing freaks me out. Stella, I don’t require anything else of you. I don’t require to be served breakfast on my balcony every fucking morning. I don’t require a servant, period. I’m a big girl, I’ve taken care of myself for a long time. Pretty sure I can make my own breakfast and clean up my own shit.” I instantly feel bad for cursing her out, again. She’s only doing her job. God, I’m such a bitch.
“I’m so sorry. I really am trying, I suck at mornings,” I sigh, hanging my head, chastising myself for another outburst directed at Stella. I need to stop swearing around this poor lady. The last thing she needs is to deal with my sass every single day.
She chuckles to herself in her sweet motherly way. “Mr. Ryan requires breakfast on the balcony every morning, not me my dear. And don’t you worry about that foul mouth of yours. I raised four sons, you haven’t said anything I haven’t heard before. Anyway, that brother of yours is far scarier than you before he has had his coffee. If there is nothing else, I will be on my way,” she says before leaving the room.
“Thank you, Stella,” I call out behind her, a little too late. I need to work on my manners. Either that or tell Marcus to give that woman a raise.
After doing my morning routine in the bathroom, I wander out onto the sunny deck. The cool breeze blowing across my skin is welcoming. Leaning on the railing I stare out at the endless dark ocean mirroring the chaos inside of me. From the outside, Marcus’s life seems like perfection with this big beautiful house and the money attached to it. But it is an illusion, he carries around so much pain every day. This life seemed too good to be true for someone like me, to all of a sudden have a place I belong and a family. Everything has a price and the
cost of having everything I ever wanted nearly destroyed me.
Like yesterday and the day before, a huge breakfast is spread out on the table, for only the three of us. I forgo eating, grabbing only a coffee. I lay back on one of the lounge chairs lining the deck and let the sun wash over me, warming my skin. I truly love it here.
As much as having Marcus in my life has helped, I know I can’t trust myself around him. So much of my life has been spent under his control. Manipulated with little to no concern for how I feel or what I want. I love my brother but I am not stupid enough to trust him completely. He has his own agenda and his own life. I believe he did what he had to do, or at the very least what he thought he had to do it to keep me safe. As twisted and misguided as it was, I understand why he did it. But, I didn’t come out completely unscathed. Phoenyx 2.0 has a better wardrobe but issues. No longer am I being lead through my own life by someone else’s whim. This life is mine and I intend to live it on my terms.
Mason steps out into the sun, standing a moment with his eyes closed, letting the rays warm his golden skin. My eyes roam the black dress shirt barely containing his muscles, sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms. How he makes forearms sexy, I have no idea but that little bit of skin showing makes me tingle in all the right places. My eyes continue lustfully lapping at his fine form, remembering the way his skin felt under my fingertips, the way his hard body felt against mine. Almost a year ago and I still remember every detail of how hot it was.
“Stop looking at me like that unless you mean it, babe,” he says, his eyes remaining closed. Can he feel my eyes on him? Here I thought I was hiding my ogling so well.
“Sorry,” I grumbled, rubbing my face. I really need to stop unconsciously lusting after Mason. First, I need to deal with the Silas situation. We’ve barely spoken I don’t understand what he thinks is happening between us. It feels like ages since all the drama with Asher but since then things between us have been tense. When I needed him, I tried to call, he would seem distracted and quick to end our conversation. We are over, we just need closure, I have no idea where we stand. The fact is if he missed me, if I was important to him, he would be here, he would call. Silas Gage washed his hands of me and my drama, once and for all. Oddly, I am not bothered by this. I had been expecting his breakup call when he called to tell me he was coming on tour.