Cry, Nike! (The Judas Curse)

by Angella Graff

  A small whimper interrupted her thoughts, and Nike glanced over at the woman on the couch. She couldn’t remember her name at the moment, but then again, mortal names didn’t really mean a lot to her. The woman was gagged, thank god, because Nike could not take the whimpering and begging any longer. Her eyes still had the creepy glow from when Nike showed her the word Mark had written, which Nike found unnerving, and if she had been sure it wouldn’t have destroyed the link between Mark’s power and the woman, she probably would have just ripped her eyes out.

  But no, Nike had to refrain from doing as much bodily harm as possible to that meat sack. Apollo was in charge of taking care of it, keeping it fed and clean, and whatever else humans needed to survive. This woman did have a purpose and, as much as she hated it, Nike knew she needed her.

  “Can you just not do that, please,” Nike muttered, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. She felt a headache coming on, another human joy. Since that immortal bastard had healed her vessel, things had been…off. Her powers had dipped to an all-time low, though only Apollo knew about that delightful tidbit, and she found herself subject to more human aches and pains.

  The woman on the couch sniffed a little, but refrained from making another noise, which was rewarded by a lopsided grin from Nike. “Where the hell is my food?” she shouted into the apartment.

  Two of the other gods came running. She wasn’t even sure which ones they were, anymore. The human puppets were just so damn hard to tell apart, and with the Greeks’ powers rapidly fading, they carried less and less of their original god signature with them.

  Not that she cared. They were all likely to be devoured anyway, which was all better for her since she had no intention whatsoever of sharing her powers once the Others came through.

  “Helios should be returning soon,” the taller one simpered.

  “Whatever,” Nike said. Helios, right, she thought to herself. He was at least dependable, desperately attached to Apollo, and Apollo worshiped Nike almost violently. Something she rather appreciated from her older brethren.

  The two disappeared and Nike turned her gaze back to the human on the couch, sighing and shaking her head. “You know, all I really want is to get this over with. If you think I enjoy dragging you around all tied up and pathetic, you’re wrong. I would have killed you and put you out of your misery weeks ago if I could. But no, no because your little friends are keeping their lips sealed and my little spy on the other side isn’t being very helpful.”

  The woman stared back at Nike with terror in her glowing eyes, and Nike smiled. There was nothing like striking fear into the hearts of the weak. She was victory, after all, and there was no sweeter victory than conquering those beneath her.

  The door to the apartment banged open. Nike half expected to see Ben and his little friends bursting in through the door, determined to take back what they claimed was theirs, but it was Apollo and Helios instead. She let out a groan of disappointment, having wanted it to be someone worth fighting. That pathetic vessel for Asclepius, the traitor, hadn’t given her a fight at all, unless you wanted to count begging and slobbering until she finally let him die.

  The only real joy she got out of it was listening to Asclepius try and beg for the life of the human. Standing in the doorway to the portal, unable to cross over the barrier she put up, Nike made him watch as she tore apart his beloved human. Even then the sorry traitor didn’t give her any useful information. In the end it was a waste. She had a ruined outfit, stained hands, messy hair and no idea where to find the next available portal.

  Nike jumped up and followed Apollo into the small kitchen, taking a minute to admire his form. Apollo had always been addicted to the prettier humans, and they were always almost identical, which worked for her. His particular chosen vessel was a slender man, very tall, wavy brown hair sitting at his ears, and piercing green eyes. She liked this one’s face, with the chiseled features and pale skin.

  She wanted to grab him and take him on the kitchen floor, but the way Helios was leering at her from his chubby, awkward human face immediately killed all desire. She shoved Helios aside and he backed out of the kitchen as she examined what was inside the paper bags.

  “Any word?” Apollo asked while pulling white paper boxes from the bags.

  Nike’s face fell and she snatched up a box of lo mein with more force than necessary. “No, and thank you for asking,” she snapped.

  Apollo sighed and took her face between his long fingers, caressing her skin with his thumbs. “You’re victory, don’t forget. We’re immortal, and we will take back this world.”

  Nike let herself nuzzle into his palm for a moment before gathering herself and giving him a shove back. She glanced around the small, cramped kitchen and then sighed, taking a seat at Ben’s small table. “I’m starting to regret burning down those idiots’ apartment. At least the writer had posh taste. I’m tired of lounging around these dumpy hovels.”

  Apollo stood beside her, rubbing her shoulders gently as she shoveled the noodles, vegetables and shrimp into her mouth. She groaned, arching into his hands almost catlike and he smiled down at her. “Eventually these things will be a distant memory. You recall our temples, sacrifices made in our names, the mortals throwing themselves at our feet. We wanted for nothing and it will eventually be ours again.”

  Nike smiled wistfully as she remembered the soldiers in battle, weapons raised to the sky screaming, “Cry, Nike! For Victory!” Taking each other down by the end of a sword and spear. She remembered the praise, the gold and food laid down at her feet and the abject worship as she alone was responsible for their victory in battle. So shall it be again, she thought as she pushed the empty paper box away.

  So shall it be, with power and glory forever. Amen.

  Chapter Eight

  The sun had long set by the time they reached San Diego, and Mark was officially tired of those two cities. The drive between them was no longer calm and serene, but simply told him that yet again, they had not managed to accomplish a single thing. He ached for the quiet moments of the school, when he occasionally wondered about Jude, when Abby was talking his ear off about some religious miracle reported in Brazil. When the only pressing need was the stack of papers that needed to be graded, and the books on his shelves waiting to be read.

  He was in the car with Stella and Jude, while ahead in an imposing black SUV rode Ben, Alex and Andrew. Likely they were planning their trip to Greg’s office while Mark was to lay low with the others at the apartment Alex had secured for them.

  All of the places they had been staying were modest, modern, but outside of Mark’s comfort level. Despite being raised for most of his life in Galilee, and despite having wandered for centuries, homeless and alone, Mark never lost his taste and desire for the finer things. The finer things he appreciated because of his mother and grandfather. Mark never lost that touch of Roman elitism, and it was something he didn’t hate about himself.

  Mark followed Alex’s SUV to a tall apartment building inland. From what he remembered, it wasn’t particularly close to Greg’s office, and he wasn’t sure if that was deliberate, or the only thing the Norse god could find last-minute. He doubted the latter, as the god seemed to have connections all over the state, and likely all over the world as well.

  Mark pulled into an uncovered spot next to Alex, and the group got out, stretching their legs and backs. It had been a tense ride, as the arguments between Stella and Ben were growing more frequent, and Mark wasn’t sure what was really going on. Stella, or rather Persephone, had been a very down to earth person, so her tension over Olivia was strange and it confused Mark. He wanted to ask her about it, but every time he tried to get her alone, someone would interrupt.

  With a sigh, Mark slung his carrying bag over his shoulder while Jude managed the suitcase. The building opened to an unmanned lobby, and before long they were riding up to the seventh floor. The apartment had an almost sterile smell to it, a bit like a hospital, and the corridors
were freezing and the air was extremely dry from being recirculated through the vents.

  When they stepped in to the apartment itself, it was a little musty but it was furnished and larger than he had expected it to be. He dropped his bag by the front door and walked immediately to the large window which overlooked the city. The view was amazing, the lights shining bright against the dark, almost black night sky. He let himself have a moment of relief in escaping the car, reveling in the silence as for the first time in a long time the group he was traveling with were all still and quiet.

  “There’s five rooms here, so enough to keep us comfortable for a day or two,” Alex said, keeping his voice low. “I don’t anticipate having to be here long, and the less time we spend in the city the better. We just need enough time to try and track Asclepius and then we can head east.”

  Mark turned to Alex and studied his expression. Alex was a master at keeping his thoughts and emotions visibly neutral, but right now he looked tired and worried. That wasn’t a good sign, and Mark was pretty sure he knew why Alex seemed concerned. “Can Asclepius sense portals the way Stella can?”

  “No one seems to know,” Alex replied with a shrug. He flopped down on the sofa next to Andrew who was lying with his head back and eyes closed. He was spending more time in trances than not, trying to locate Asclepius or some god who might have seen him, and it was a little disconcerting for those who weren’t used to such a thing. “I suspect that he has some sort of ability, otherwise Nike wouldn’t have gone after him like that.”

  “So it’s possible that she already got to him,” Jude piped up. “And if she did, would she have a way to hurt or kill him?”

  “We don’t die, per se,” Alex said tiredly, “but hurt, yes. I’m sure she has a way. We aren’t invulnerable.”

  Ben rubbed his face tiredly and looked at Mark for a long time. “Can you hold down the fort here while we’re gone?” he finally asked.

  Mark wanted to laugh at such an absurd question, but he realized that if they all took his recent past into consideration, it’s possible Mark would not fare well if Nike decided to make a surprise appearance. Especially since she’d lost the papers and needed more of Mark’s writing. “Who all is staying back?”

  “Just Stella and the two of you,” Alex said, pointing between Jude and Mark. “I’ll have my eye on the place from the parking lot at the hospital, but it’s necessary that I attend the crime scene with Ben and Andrew.”

  Mark let out a breath. “I suppose we’ll do our best. I think leaving us with Stella as our sole protection might not be very wise, but in truth I don’t think Nike’s even in the city.”

  “I happen to agree,” Alex said, “which is the only reason I feel comfortable with you three being here on your own.”

  With that, it was decided. Ben, Alex and Andrew left rather quickly and Mark took it upon himself to fix some food for the ones left. He found the kitchen well stocked, as all of Alex’s safe houses seemed to be, and he brought a large pot of tea with the sandwiches he threw together.

  Jude declined the food and excused himself to one of the back bedrooms, giving Mark a painful flashback of his apartment going up in flames. But after several moments, Mark relaxed. Stella sat across from him, picking apart her food but not really eating any of it.

  Mark helped himself in silence for a while, and eventually drew the courage to bring up Ben. “You need to tell someone what’s going on,” he began, trying to sound forceful but willing to listen. “The conflict between you and Ben is unlike you, and it’s affecting everyone here. You obviously have some suspicions over Olivia but I don’t understand why.”

  Stella’s cheeks pinked a little and she looked down at her food. She was holding something back, something large and important, and Mark needed to know what it was. “I feel that Olivia is a trap,” she eventually said.

  “What do you mean?”

  She gave a sigh and shrugged, looking frustrated and angry. “I don’t think she came upon Ben by accident. The idea that some pretty little floozy from across the pond would just sort of be interested in Ben, then happen to get borrowed by Alex is… it’s not right. It doesn’t sit right with me. I think she was planted here for a reason, and I think Nike is using her to get to Ben.”

  “I’m not sure how that would benefit Nike at all. The vessels, as you know full well, don’t retain any information when your consciousness is in charge of things, so kidnapping the human doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  Stella’s jaw tensed but instead of answering, she got up and went into the kitchen. Not to be deterred, Mark stood and followed her, ignoring her warning glare she shot him as he cornered her near the fridge.

  “I’m not trying to pressure you, Persephone,” Mark said carefully, “but there’s something going on and it’s making me uneasy. We’ve kept your secret from Ben, about who he’s really in love with, your relationship to the man stalking you, and everything that goes along with it. All I’m asking in return is that you’re honest with me. Any secrets can be potentially damaging to what we’re trying to accomplish here, and the more you keep from us, the less willing we will be in the end to help you out.”

  Stella watched him for a long time, her face growing redder and redder. Eventually she shoved past him, knocking him into the counter, and before she disappeared down the hall she hissed, “Maybe in the end I won’t need help from you.”

  It was an obvious warning, and Mark immediately sensed that they were in danger. Not right then, but Persephone was up to something, and Mark knew now that it was possible she was in league with Nike. Maybe not directly, but any leak in their group could mean severe disaster in the end.

  Mark quietly crept down the hall, and without knocking, he let himself into Jude’s chosen bedroom. His companion was sitting on a chair at the window watching the night descend further on the city. The room was black, save for the gentle glow of the lights below, but he could see the glint of Jude’s eyes when he turned his head.

  “Is she?” Mark asked in a whisper as he sat on the large bed in the corner of the room.

  Jude was silent for so long Mark began to wonder if Jude had heard the question at all, or if Jude knew what he was talking about. Eventually, he let out a sigh. “I can’t tell. The thoughts I get from her are human, they’re angry and frustrated. The human inside of her is ready to relieve Persephone of her place within her, and is fighting now to regain control. It might be why Persephone’s defenses are down. I don’t believe she’s working against us, but she may be involved with something she doesn’t understand.”

  Mark sighed and fell backwards, staring up at the dark ceiling. “What do we do? Warn the others?”

  “I don’t believe they’re in immediate danger.”

  “So we just wait?” Mark asked, unsure he felt comfortable sitting in the house without knowing exactly what Persephone might be up to. He shifted up to his elbows and looked over at Jude. “I think we need to tell Ben about her now. The more he knows the more informed he can be when he’s out risking his life to stop Nike.”

  Jude gave a long, slow nod. “I think you’re right. When he gets home tonight, we’ll have to tell him everything.”

  Chapter Nine

  The security at the hospital parking lot was heavy enough to cause worry. Ben was forced to leave Andrew and Alex in an empty alley way while he pulled into the parking lot on his own. Andrew told Ben he’d search for a vessel and would let him know the moment Ben was inside.

  Checking in with the guard at the gate, Ben parked and immediately headed up to Greg’s office floor. Tension was high there, and Ben did his best to search out, trying to feel the presence of any Greeks nearby. The floor seemed clean, free of anything out of the ordinary aside from the violent murder that had just taken place.

  Walking to the office, Ben could see trails of blood stained in the carpet. Shoe prints and even a couple of bloody handprints on the wall led the way to the scene. The door to the office was broken off the hinge
s and had been shoved to the side. Ben was surprised that the murder had gone undiscovered for so long, no one having noticed anything amiss until the first medical assistant had come in that morning.

  He stepped into the office, the smell of old blood assaulting his nose, and the scent of decay wafted down the hall from the back room where he knew most of the violence had taken place. He stood there, rooted to the floor in the lobby, feeling sick to his stomach, as a wave of grief washed over him again.

  It wasn’t the same feeling of immense loss that Ben felt over Abby, but more a feeling of responsibility. If he hadn’t been so desperate and stupid, determined to save his sister, Nike’s vessel would have remained dead and she wouldn’t have had the power to do all of this.

  Wiping at his face, Ben jumped when an unexpected hand dropped on his shoulder. Whirling around, grabbing for the gun under his jacket, Ben came face to face with a uniformed officer he didn’t know. The man was young, taller than Ben, and heavier. His dark beady eyes were searching Ben’s face, and Ben immediately recognized the signature feel of Andrew.

  “Ready to go in?” he asked Ben.

  Ben let out a breath and let his arms fall back down to his sides. “A little head’s up would have been nice. I nearly shot you.”

  “No, you nearly wanted to,” Andrew corrected. “You’re at a crime scene crawling with cops. There’s no way you’d be attacked right now.”

  Ben rolled his eyes but turned away from Andrew, leading the way down the hall. The stench grew fiercer, and Ben wondered if the body had been left for some reason. Normally after the corpse had been removed, the smell faded, but this was almost overwhelming.