Fury of the Gods (Areios Brothers Book 3)

by Amy Braun

  Slowly, I reached across the table and thumbed the Knife hilt until I could spin it back to me. Its power surged again, but I hooked it through my belt and tried to pretend I couldn’t feel it humming against my hip.

  Is this what Derek feels when he uses the spear?

  I looked at Zeus, watching the chamber lighten back to its blinding whiteness.

  “Escort him out, Ares.”

  Oh, goody.

  I bowed to the Olympians and murmured my thanks. Better than offending them again.

  Ares stood up and stalked around the table. I stepped well out of his range and waited until he passed me before turning my back on the gods. I could feel the eyes of every single god riveted to my spine. Even when the door closed behind us, I still felt like I was being watched.

  I followed in Ares’ footsteps for another fifty feet before he stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked at me.

  A huge grin covered his face that made my stomach drop.

  “You surprised me,” he remarked. “I was not aware you had so much steel in your spine.”

  I narrowed my eyes. A light chuckle escaped the god. “And even with all that strength, you still did not tell them the truth.”

  I winced. No, I hadn’t. The gods didn’t know what really happened in that underwater cavern with Ares and Apollo, because one of those gods was alive and watching my every move. If I snitched, there wouldn’t be enough pieces left for me to be stitched.

  “Why is that?” he prodded.

  “Because I don’t trust you. If I tell them the truth, you’ll convince them that I’m lying. And you’ll hurt the people I care about.” I glared daggers at him. “I’m not stupid.” But I’m not going to let you win.

  Six months ago, I would have been afraid to be anywhere near him, let alone stand five feet away. But these past few months had been a chaotic roller coaster; they forced me to change. All I could do was hold on and hope I survive the next fall.

  A cruel smirk formed on Ares’ lips. “What a tight rope we walk together, Liam Areios. I wonder what it will take to push you over the edge.”

  The knife at my belt felt heavier than ever. I was going to have to carry it for… the rest of my life, I guessed, since I had no intention of ever using it.

  Ares flicked his gaze to the knife, then lifted it to me. “I could do it for you, you know.”

  My blood went cold.

  “Your brother has been disappointing as of late. He does not live up to the role I have laid out for him. But you could take his place. I will even guarantee that he will not feel any pain.”

  Shivers wracked my body, but not of cold or fear. It was anger that settled into my stomach now.

  “No. Not unless you kill me.” I wore a cruel grin of my own. “And I’m guessing that’s not really an option for you anymore now, either.”

  Taking a breath, in case it was my last one, I took a step toward the god of war.

  “Touch any of them––Derek, Thea, Corey, Mason––and I will find out. And the first person I use the Knife on will be you.”

  I pushed my aura outward. I wasn’t as powerful as Derek, and certainly not as strong as a god. But I had been pushed around for most of my life. I depended on Derek while I rushed to save him from himself. I couldn’t live my life that way anymore—not if I truly was going to keep everyone I cared about alive. So, I let Ares feel the hot rush of magic sweep over him. Let him know that while it wasn’t strong, it was there, and I was not going to give up without a fight.

  Ares read something in my expression that made him smile with amusement. That smug look made me want to punch his face in, but I knew he would rip my arms off and beat me to death with them before I got a clean swipe at him.

  Ares tilted forward, his eyes bright and aggressive. “I am proud of you, Liam Areios. You are coming along nicely.”

  Before I could ask him what the hell that meant, Ares turned on his heel and walked down the corridor. He made a turn and vanished from my sight.

  I wrapped my hand around the hilt of the Omega Knife and cursed. What the hell had I gotten myself into now?

  DEREK

  I MOVED THE steel blade of my spear against the whetstone. It was early, probably just past five or six in the morning—I hadn’t slept well. Too many thoughts clogging my mind, and what little rest I did take was filled with nightmares. It seemed like the perfect time to sharpen my weapons. All the knives were done. Only Ki̱demónas was left.

  The spear, condensed to its smaller two-foot length, hummed contently as I gently scraped it across the smooth, oiled rock. The armory had been tucked outside near a greenhouse at the back of the cathedral. Though merely a simple overhang held up by support beam’s a small fire pit, the space was filled with polished weapons, armor hanging on racks, cleaning kits, and a couple of chairs—enough for maintenance more than anything else.

  Still, it was relaxing out here—so far from the city and with just the smells and sounds of early morning air. I smelled wheat, greenery, and pomegranates from the garden. Lines of orange, red, and pink pushed against a dark sky.

  I felt peaceful here. Relaxed. Given everything that had happened to me over the last few months, this was… odd.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  I blinked, my mind stolen away from the scenery and steady motions of my hands. I looked over my shoulder just as Selena stepped into the armory. Her loose, unbrushed hair fell past her shoulders. It was getting long.

  She plucked a chair out from the side of the armory and placed it next to me. She sat down and tossed her hair over her shoulder and stared across the horizon. “Beautiful sunrise.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured. But I wasn’t looking at the sunrise.

  Selena began to turn her head, and I quickly looked away so she wouldn’t know I’d been staring at her. Again.

  “We’ll meet with a storm scion in Sacramento,” she said after a moment. “She’s heard something pertaining to the Mind.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You Saw this?”

  She nodded. “You’re not the only one who can’t sleep.”

  There was more to it. I could tell by the way her voice trailed off that something else had kept her awake. Maybe she was torn on whether to speak of it.

  “Are you doing all right?”

  Selena blinked and smiled at me. It almost erased the sadness in her eyes. “I’m fine. I just… It’s hard being around Athena. It brings out a lot of bad emotions in me.”

  I thought about the conversation I overhead with Athena. “Bad” was a gentle way of putting it.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” The metal scraped under my fingers. The blade felt cold. “Just worried about Liam, but what else is new?”

  My voice wasn’t as light or playful as I’d hoped to make it. Selena’s fingertips touched the back of my hand. I stopped moving.

  “I miss them, too,” she whispered. “I keep thinking I should look and See when we’ll meet up with them, if Thea will be the same friend I had, but I just… don’t.”

  “They’ll be all right,” I promised her. “They’re safe with the Olympians.” If only because the Olympians wanted to use them.

  I turned my hand and slid my palm beneath hers, the first time I’d really touched her in weeks. Sword oil coated my fingertips and my hands were dry, but Selena laced her fingers through mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  It was a beautiful, perfect moment.

  And then my hand broke.

  The sharp explosion of pain was so abrupt—so out of the blue—that my hand slipped on Ki̱demónas’s blade. The pain in my broken hand was so great that I barely felt Ki̱demónas slice into the edge of my palm. Blood poured from the wound and dripped down my wrist as my fingers throbbed from the hex that shattered them.

  Selena’s hands were there, lightly cupping my injured hand and pouring welcome, warm magic into them. In a few moments, the bones were healed and
the cut was sewed back together. Half my hand was smeared with blood, but she didn’t let go of me.

  “Sorry about that,” I murmured.

  She looked at my bloody fingertips. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t deny it.

  “I don’t know how to remove that hex,” she whispered.

  “Well, last time, all I had to do was die.”

  I’d meant it as a joke, and admittedly, but it was in bad taste. I did not expect the intensity in Selena’s eyes.

  “Don’t you dare. You don’t even get to kid around with that. You’re not going to die again.”

  I watched her now, my eyes flicking back and forth between hers. “Did you See something?”

  Selena kept her lips firmly pressed shut.

  “Selena, you can––”

  A shadow rounded the corner of the armory and skidded to a halt at the sight of us. I looked over Selena’s head and noticed one of the younger acolytes who volunteered at the cathedral, a teenager named Sam, halt at the sight of us.

  “Apologies,” he said, looking to Selena, “but Lady Persephone wanted me to inform you that breakfast was ready.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” she said kindly. “We’ll be right there.”

  He gawked at us for another moment, then seemed to regain his senses and scurried out of the forge.

  “I swear, that kid actually thinks we’re gods,” I muttered.

  Selena rose from her chair and found a folded rag underneath the outdoor sink. She wetted the cloth with warm water.

  “What do you expect? We’ve done some pretty incredible things for lowly mortals.”

  She handed me the wet cloth. I thanked her and wiped the blood off my hand. My eyes flicked to her again, and I wanted to ask what she had Seen. But from the stormy look in her eyes and her distracted motions, I could tell Selena didn’t want to talk about her Sight.

  And if I were perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, either.

  Pretending nothing had changed, I stood up, twirled the spear, and slipped it through my belt. “Well,” I grinned, “shall we?”

  It was insanely risky for us to enter Sacramento. It could be argued––and had been by Persephone––that this was the worst thing we could have done next to returning to Artemis’s region. Zeus and his followers made their home in Sacramento. It was rumored that the Council of Clouds hovered above the heart of the city.

  But Selena had Seen this was where we needed to go if we wanted to find the Timeweaver, another name for the Mind of Cronus.

  I could almost hear my little brother offering his own interpretation of the name.

  The Mind of Cronus? Why not just call it the Baby-Eater’s Brain?

  Gods, I missed him.

  If rumors held true, this was the closest I would have been to him in three months. And yet, it was better to keep my distance. No one could know we were entering the city.

  Before we left Haven, Athena and Persephone crafted an enchantment that would keep us from being instantly recognized. It wouldn’t hold up if the Olympians deeply scrutinized it, but since they were the only ones that could break it, I felt a little better as Persephone’s driver finally led us into the city.

  We coasted through a lane devoted to drivers specifically tasked with errands pertaining to the gods, so we got through traffic fairly quickly. Though we were stopped, the enchantment held up. I overheard our driver speaking to the border guard and caught his reply that fugitives were running rampant and many cities were becoming restless. Security would be tightening even for Olympian subordinates.

  Luck fortuned us by for now, but I doubted it would last. Depending on how today went, we might need to sneak out of Zeus’s region illegally, the same way we had for Artemis’s.

  As the heart of Néo Vasíleio, Sacramento was a bustling hive of activity and power. Skyscrapers and towering buildings stood high over the streets, while flags bearing the Thunderbolt sigil of Zeus swayed on the rooftops. Plazas and squares were decorated with stunning marble statues of Zeus with various offerings laid at the feet. Not a trace of graffiti or dirt marked the statues. Even pigeons stayed away from them.

  Tower Bridge was also adorned with statues on the highest peaks. Enchanted lights danced around the cables and support beams. The entire length of Tower Bridge was a dazzling array of light that illuminated much of the city at night.

  But light could only mask the darkness for so long.

  I’d glanced out of the windows on the way to our destination. The streets were unnaturally vacant for a Friday night. No one walked them, save for contingents of Zeus’ elite soldiers, the Profylaktíres Thýellas, or Storm Guards, marching beneath the hazy streetlamps. Their grey uniforms and heavy swords blended with the shadows, and they did not look pleased to be on the streets.

  Oppression hung heavy in the air—a tension that had not been present the last time I had been here. We had all heard about the riots, the dissent, and anger spreading throughout Néo Vasíleio, but Selena and I had been working on the sidelines for the past three months. This was the first time I’d gone into an actual major city since Poseidon and Apollo were slain. I hadn’t believed so much would change, and yet…

  “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  “Curfews,” informed the driver. “Most of the riots have been happening here. I heard this morning that a curfew was put in place after nightfall. Anyone breaking it is immediately arrested and taken to San Bernadino to Strató̱nes.”

  “What?” This was the first I’d heard of it.

  Our driver flicked his eyes to us in the rearview mirror. His gaze was sad.

  “Lady Persephone didn’t want you to know about this. She believed it would make you act, and she wishes instead to keep you safe. But I’m not her and I don’t believe in hiding the truth.”

  “Thank you,” I told him quietly, slinking into my seat.

  It had been months since I’d been to my old headquarters, and I didn’t miss the hub of all war scion activity or Ares’ oppression for those who worked there. But to send innocent, unnerved people there for next to no reason was cruel.

  I glanced out the windows again, hoping the Storm Guards could see the special sticker proving we had been processed at the Region border and were allowed entry to do our work for Persephone—a new protocol since the beach. So far, we hadn’t been stopped, but the longer we drove, the more uneasy I felt.

  Thankfully, we arrived at our destination about ten minutes later.

  The Khalekus family owned much of the electrical market in Néo Vasíleio. The early days of the Re-Emergence wreaked havoc on Old California more than thirty years ago. Neither the Olympians nor their monsters had cared about how integral technology had become to human lives. The Khalekus family, quickly learning they were storm scions and their bloodline could trace back to the King of the Olympians, jumped at the chance to make a name for themselves. The family, who had dipped their toes in the electrical business even before the Re-Emergence, rebuilt and recharged many of the generators and grids, in some cases even using their magic to give an extra boost to the lines and wires. They were the first family to rebuild anything in Néo Vasíleio, so it garnered them massive amounts of gratitude, prestige, and wealth. With their advances and findings in technology, their power continued to grow until, after a tragic car accident claimed the lives of the previous owners, Malik and Imani Khalekus, the mantle was passed down to their twenty-one-year-old son.

  An eccentric, big-hearted soul named Mason.

  The building we arrived at was a clerical office building to hold supplies tucked away at the edge of an industrial district. The beige building was featureless save for a few windows and the Khalekus Industries name bolded in gold with a lightning bolt acting as the capital “I.” The lights on the lower half of the five-story building were on. We were expected, but we’d done our research before leaving Haven. We looked at every map we could find and searched the Internet for every detail in case we walked
into a trap.

  This particular building was closed to the public due to renovations, as stated by chairs of the company, Mason’s aunt and uncle, Clemencia and Ezra. Shortly after the Olympians had stolen Mason away from us, the company had released a statement transferring management to Clemencia and Ezra, until the Olympians saw fit to release Mason.

  When that would happen was anyone’s guess. Seeing Mason stand at podiums and speak for the Olympians with Thea, Corey, and Liam beside him… it put knots in my stomach.

  Of course, I was glad they were alive and didn’t seem to be hurt. But it was like watching a hostage smile to the camera and say everything was fine while holding a sign begging the viewers for help.

  But there was nothing I could do. If I showed my face, the Olympians would kill me. Maybe that was the noble thing to do, but I knew my friends, and I especially knew Liam. The danger of an angry Olympian wouldn’t stop them from standing in front of me to take a hit. And I was not willing to watch them die.

  The driver halted outside the guardhouse and spoke to the guard inside it.

  Another quick check––with no hints as to who we really were thanks to the deception enchantment––and we were allowed inside. We thanked the driver––David, he told us when I asked his name––and walked through the front doors of the building and were instantly greeted.

  “Welcome to Khalekus Industries,” said a pretty young woman with curly black hair, ebony skin, and a sleek cream suit. I held my breath, but Athena’s deception charm continued to hold. This woman had no idea who Selena and I really were.

  She held out her hand for both of us to shake. Her grip was soft but strong. “I’m Adelae Stewart. Please follow me.”

  She turned on her heel, and then we were walking through a simple, pale gray lobby with blocky modern furniture to the elevators.

  “I can’t tell you how grateful we are to have you and your team come in, Mr. Evans,” said Adelae, using my fake name. “We were just beginning renovations in the basement when they found it. We had no idea who to call, but thankfully the Periochí̱ Polemistés sent you all out.”