I took this chance to change the subject before he launched into line of questioning, “I didn’t have time to make the trap room.”
“Naturally,” He said suggestively.
“I wanted your input when I made it.”
“Of course.” He wasn’t going to make this easy I gathered.
“Jailbait,” he seemed to take his time saying the word, peeling it off his tongue excruciatingly slow, “we need your input.” I shot a glare at him, aware of what he was doing.
“Yeah?” Valentina reappeared at my side, easily slipping her hand into my own as Savannah took a stand next to Aidan.
“Griffin said he was preoccupied last night. So he didn’t manage to make the trap room.” Valentina discernibly blushed, “considering this is your plan, I figured you might have some input to add to my own about where and how it is created.”
“Yeah,” she said awkwardly, which seemed to only please Aidan more. I looked down at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze to tell her I was there as she thought it over. I didn’t know the extent of Valentina’s knowledge of the Underworld, but perhaps, there was something more in Aidan asking her, than just to ensure we both were sufficiently embarrassed.
“We can’t take them to the Judges, they’re in league with them, so they’d most likely send them back up to Olympus and ruin our plans. But the Moirai or the Erinyes might be willing to help us. The Erinyes were the ones who brought me back up to Olympus, they believe in fulfilling judgement for wrongdoings. If we send them to them, the Titans would be obligated to receive judgement.”
“Are you sure about that?” Aidan had lost the humor in his voice as he asked, looking at her with scrutiny.
“Well, mostly. But that doesn’t really solve the problem of where they would go.”
I took a deep breath and let go of Valentina’s hand, looking around the throne room slowly. “I know where we can put them.”
I didn’t tell the others anything else, as I crossed the room and left them no doubt curious as to what I’d decided. I realized, standing there, that discussions to no end would never give us the upper hand we needed. Not to mention, this whole trap room idea had been mine to begin with, so I felt responsible for figuring it out myself without stressing any of the others out.
And I had. Mostly.
The idea came to me as Valentina discussed judges, Moirai and Erinyes, none of the names meaning anything to me, despite the small pinch in the back of my mind noting Hades’ arrival. We’d said all along we didn’t need to rely on the mythological creatures living in my realm when I was perfectly capable of creating my own prison. I just had lacked the inspiration before.
Now, striding through the cavernous hallways, I could picture where I was going and headed there with an air of bravery, or at least I tried to. Beneath my bravado, I could feel the growing ball of nerves. An innate reaction to knowing the kind of memories I was going to conjure back from the abyss of my mind, and what sort of doors doing so might unlock.
But this was all for the greater good, wasn’t it? I reached my destination as the walls around me shifted and the darkness enclosed me like a shell. The walls lingered close, pulsing like they had lungs of their own, which contracted and exhaled around me. The hairs on my arm stood on end as I stood there, feeling the impending sense of terror standing nearby and waiting to strike. But I had to be sure, I had to fill this place with my intention to ensure it survived once I left it.
I heard his voice before I even saw him. Had I conjured the spirit I’d seen lingering in the throne room?
“Worthless,” it echoed around me, slipping under my skin like a needle and threading through my veins. My eyes closed against my will, as if not being able to see him, would make this easier.
“Faggot.” I physically flinched, like something had been whipped at me, breaking the skin where it touched. His breath reeked of Bell’s Old Scotch, I preferred Ballantine’s. It was hot against my neck and earlobe. I flinched again, this time, sure something had hit me. I knew I didn’t want to, my entire mind screamed “don’t do it!” But I also knew, I had to open my eyes. If I was going to create this place with the intention to torment, then I needed to ensure my own terror was palpable in the walls and in the shadows.
He stood to my left, leering as he twisted the thick, old leather belt in his hands once more. He stumbled forward, his toes catching on the rocks as he came toward me. I knew this part. I relived it in my dreams some nights. His arm raised and before I even saw it come down, I felt the sting of the lash across my face. I felt the blood trickle down from the scar on my eyebrow, tracing the outside of my eye before beading down my cheek and dripping off my chin.
In my dreams, I sometimes fight back. But that’s not what it was like. Truthfully? I had cowered, holding an arm over my face protectively, while I let him hit me; and every word sunk in and branded itself to my bones. I was a child again. An innocent. I knew no better than the things he said to me and the half-hearted assurances of a woman who couldn’t bring herself to keep her family safe.
This was the man who made me who I am today. Every creeping doubt and insecurity belonged to him. Just as every flaw I had inherited, passed through my veins in the stains of his blood. This was my worst nightmare.
My body shook with the anxiety, refusing to let go of the grip that clenched my throat as I stood there and took every hateful thing my father had ever said to me. When I thought he was finished, for surely in real life it hadn’t spanned on forever, he would carry on again. Another flashback surfaced, and I relieved every moment leading up to the night he finally left for good.
But the damage was done and I knew it. I was ruined. The rotten fruit in the bowl that corrupted the others. Tears streamed down my face as the reality of the situation gripped my stomach.
“Enough,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, as if I had been screaming. Had I? He didn’t stop, another wallop in the form of a fist collided with my temple and I felt jarred and dizzy.
“Enough,” I tried again, willing my voice to be stronger. It was barely more than a whisper.
“Enough!” I coughed, my throat tight with resistance. I wasn’t supposed to fight back. This place didn’t allow for that. This was not a place of power, but I was its maker. I alone ruled it. It would not rule me.
“ENOUGH!” I bellowed and
the room around me shuddered. The walls shrunk back and the darkness cleared momentarily. I knew I hadn’t pushed too hard, I could feel it waiting in the background. It waited for my guard to slip and its chance to resume. I wouldn’t. This wasn’t the place of my torment, it was merely the child of it.
I didn’t waste any time crossing to the door and slipping free. I exited directly into the throne room and the scene around me froze, as they looked at me like I was a specimen to be examined.
I was used to it by now.
Valentina alone was the only one who worried, seeing the blood curled down the side of my face and rushed to my side.
“You’re hurt! What happened?”
“It’s done.” I nodded at Aidan, “the room is ready for the Titans.”
“Griffin.” She touched my cheek gently, but I shied, instinctively, from the touch. It hurt too much still, the pain was too raw. I didn’t want her kindness or pity. I received my punishment, and now I was to live with it.
“Are you ready?” As soon as I strode past her, I felt guilty.
She didn’t understand the reason behind my actions, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain them—for I was just as ashamed of the truth, as I was ashamed of myself.
Aidan arched an eyebrow at me before nodding. The room cleared out slightly as we approached the portal Valentina had made in my absence.
“Are you sure you don’t want backup?” Zane fingered a sword at his side as he made his way toward us, followed closely by Royce looking just as eager.
“No, the fewer of us up there, the better. Plus we don’t know what will happen if you go up there uninv
ited.”
“I’m willing to—”
“I’m not,” Aidan said firmly, casting a look at Zane that wiped the eagerness from his face. It was almost like watching a father interact with his teenaged son.
“Fine.” He backed off, having a little bit of a sulk, as Savannah came up behind him and took his hand to comfort him.
“Be safe,” she said with a smile to Aidan. He looked like he was going to say something, a smirk already on his face before changing his mind and nodding his head. He turned to glance at me, my eyes catching Valentina’s for a moment. She was frowning, and she looked hurt by my brushing her off.
“I’ll send a message when it’s safe for you. Don’t do anything brash,” I said, the words of love sticking against the edge of my tongue. My father’s voice rang in my ears, I didn’t deserve love.
Don’t beg for it. I nodded like she had replied before turning away and crossing the threshold first.
I already regretted it.
Chapter 18
"What’s going on with you and Valentina?” Aidan didn’t waste any time launching a full assault on me as we entered the throne room of Olympus. My eyes were scanning the destruction that they had left here as a reminder for anyone who entered.
In a slow revolution, they grazed the circumference of the room, before I finally faced Aidan head on.
“Nothing.”
“You gave her the cold shoulder back there,” he retorted immediately. I took a deep breath and shrugged my shoulders. “She was worried about you, you have a lot of blood on your face.”
“It’s nothing, I’m immortal. It’s probably healed, I just haven’t wiped the blood off.”
“It is healed, but that doesn’t change how she feels about you.”
“No, I’m sure it doesn’t,” I said, moving straight for the hallway door. Aidan was on my tail quickly, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him.
“What the hell is your problem, Griffin? I just don’t get it.”
“Why would you? Why would you even begin to understand me, when we are so completely different? Look at you. Your life is handed to you on a silver platter. I walk into the room and eyes turn to me for entirely different reasons, then they do to you.”
Aidan’s face screwed up slightly as he shook his head, looking away from me; and for a moment reached for the door like he was going to ignore me.
“You don’t know anything about my life, Griffin.”
“And you don’t know anything about mine, that doesn’t stop you from judging me.”
This seemed to give him pause as he finally turned to face him. “I don’t judge you for your past, whatever it is. I judge you by the actions you take and have taken every day since I met you. You show up at parties drunk, only to get drunker. You assaulted Savannah, or at least, allowed your God to. You kidnapped Valentina and for whatever reason she forgave you, let herself come to love you, and now you’re throwing it back in her face. You’re selfish, Griffin. You don’t think
about how your actions affect everyone else in your life before you do them, you just do.”
“Oh, and you’re so high and mighty, Mr. Thinks - Everything-Through-Except-That-One-Time-With-Charlotte.” Aidan’s face seemed to burn red, but I wasn’t sure if it was out of anger or embarrassment.
“I make mistakes.”
“And your mistakes are different from mine how?”
His jaw tightened and I knew I was getting to him.
“I love Valentina, don’t ever doubt that. But there are some things I can’t share with her, not yet. And that’s my prerogative. Just like you clearly have things hidden from Savannah.”
“I don’t.”
“So she knows every facet of your life, now and before?”
We stared hard at each other, and I realized at that moment, Aidan was hiding something from everyone. My eyebrow cocked slightly, almost like a challenge for him to be honest once. But then, why should I have such blind hopes for an obvious hypocrite?
I had half a mind to tell him that myself before grabbing the door and throwing it open, thinking about Soren’s flat. We exited the throne room into one of the nondescript hallways filled with doorways. I didn’t bother looking at Aidan as I moved to the first one, grabbing the handle and turning with all my might to break the lock.
It was magical though, and unless Soren himself was going to let me in, there was no way the door was opening. Aidan wasn’t happy with that answer, moving me, roughly, out of the way to try himself.
“You think I didn’t attempt that?” He grunted in response and seemed to pour every ounce of his strength into cracking it. I crossed my arms and shook my head at his juvenile attempts.
“C’mon, we’re wasting time.”
“We have to get into his flat.”
“We won’t.”
“Go back to your pit of hell then if you’re going to be useless.”
“I’m not useless.”
“You’re giving up like you do everything. You gave up sobriety, you gave up Valentina, you are giving up now.”
I burned as he accused me of giving up sobriety, how did he know?
“Valentina is chatty when she’s comfortable.” He seemed to read my thoughts, throwing in a smirk for good measure to piss me off more.
“I told you, I’m not giving up Valentina. I just need to sort out my own shit before I go piling it on her.”
“Right,” he said with another grunt of effort.
“Try using magic.”
“My lightning bolt is gone.”
“Is it? I don’t remember Atlas saying anything about the key being the power of the god who bore it. You could make lightning bolts before the key was taken.”
“Yeah and I used it on Earth with Valentina, saving her life. Which is more than you’ve done.”
I don’t know why, but I hit him. I was sick of him acting like he knew everything about me and about my relationship with Valentina. I hated that he had acted like he wanted to be friends and I had partially believed him, letting myself relax more than I should’ve. Worse still, everything he said got under my skin that much easier and rubbed me the wrong way.
But my dominance didn’t last long as he swung at me, connecting with my jaw and I stumbled back into the wall. Reflexively, I launched myself at him, tackling him around the waist and throwing his back into the doorknob of the flat we were trying to break into.
We both went down in the wake of my effort, scrambling on the ground to get the upper hand over each other.
“I’m…so…bloody…sick… of…you…”
“Grow…up…”
We were both panting with effort, rolling around like pigs in mud, as we both tried to wrap our hands around the other’s neck.
“You…pretentious…twat…”
“Selfish…Bastard…”
“Self-absorbed…cock…”
“Manipulative…Rapist…”
I head-butted him in the face, hearing the satisfying crunch of his nose, where my skull connected with it. He didn’t waste time playing dirty, kneeing me hard. I groaned, rolling back as white stars flashed in my eyes, and I cupped myself in a reactive gesture to soothe my ache.
“What are you two doing?”
I blinked through the incoming haze, staring up at Atlas’ face as he looked down at us in confusion. I glanced at Aidan, pleased to see a rush of fresh blood down his nose and chin, even though the break had already healed itself.
“Trying to break into Soren’s flat.”
“From the ground?” He countered, arching an eyebrow.
“We got sidetracked.”
“Obviously.” He helped us each up, deliberately putting his body between the two of us. “Listen.”
“Save it, I’m not interested in your righteous speech.” Aidan wiped under his nose and then again on his pant leg to remove the blood.
“It’s not a speech, it’s an observation and wisdom.”
“Wisdom?” I scoffed. Atlas obs
erved us with curiosity before grinning.
“Yes. You’re brothers. Brothers who have always been competitive and jealous of each other.”
“I’m not jealous of him,” We said at the exact same time. My jaw clenched and I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself.
“You are though, as Zeus is of Hades. Hades resents his brother for his title and place in the heavens; while Zeus resents Hades for his freedom and the unfailing faith of his servants.”
“You mean trapped souls.”
“Your trapped souls are more faithful to you, than the fickle hearts of man and mortals.”
“There’s nothing wise about your observation. We’re not like Zeus and Hades.”
“Mmm… Then tell me, why do you dislike Aidan so much, Griffin?”
I glanced out of the side of my eyes at Aidan, trying to pull up exactly what it was about him that rubbed me the wrong way. I hadn’t ever formally met him before forming my opinion about him. He’d entered the throne room one night, and I’d overheard someone say who he was and that was it. I decided I hated him. I could feel my face burn at the idea that Atlas was right.
“And you, Aidan?” He seemed to read my thoughts, and I glared at him as if it was his fault that I was feeling this way.
Aidan seemed to be as flustered as I was, trying to figure it out before he spoke, “he attempted to rape Savannah.”
“I’ve made it clear before— that wasn’t Griffin.” I could tell Aidan was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say as much as I didn’t.
“Well, that settles it then.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Aidan said, voicing my thoughts. Even if it was my God feeling this way toward his brother, it didn’t change the fact I had an uncomfortable level of rage roaring through me and entirely directed at him.
“I’m just pointing out that your undiluted hatred for each other stems merely from a jealous sibling rivalry and nothing more. There is no reason that you can’t work together in whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish.” He arched an eyebrow at us, obviously querying as to why we were there.
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