Even in that tall, well-muscled human body, she saw his old form. So similar to what he was now, almost painfully so, but as she tried to wrap her mind around how he managed to find a vessel every time that looked so...so similar…it hurt her head. But he was still the same god, human or corporeal. Pathetic, in love, beneath her. She sighed and cursed her luck that of all the gods left, it had to be him.
“Any information?” he finally asked.
“No,” Nike spat. “In fact, it looks like Persephone is compromised. We’re going to have to find Hades and ask him to bring her in. He’s not going to like it, but I’m done playing nice. Rules are for the weak, and I’ve been sitting here on my ass for far too long.”
“I’ve attempted to contact Hades,” Apollo said as he picked at his thumbnail. “He’s cloaked.”
A wave of fury washed over Nike so violently that she threw her glass across the room. Apollo managed to avoid getting hit just barely as the glass shattered, sending a spray of red all over the walls and carpet.
“Find him,” she hissed, her eyes glowing with the force of her anger. “Find him, or I swear I will make you beg for death.”
He didn’t need telling twice. He was gone within an instant and Nike was left alone in the kitchen. She heard the mortal crying out again, and she knew that if Apollo didn’t return with good news soon, they’d be in need of another human subject. She reached into her pocket and touched the little sliver of paper with the gospel writer’s ink on it. It would be possible to get another, though finding one like her would be difficult.
She grabbed the wine bottle and took down half the contents in one swift gulp. She wiped her red-stained chin on the back of her hand and felt the alcohol start to do its work on her body. Dulling her senses was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. It was the only thing keeping her from slaughtering the pathetic meat-puppets who were walking the streets instead of prostrating themselves at her feet.
She was Nike. She was victory! How quickly they forgot. How swiftly her name faded into legend. Into shoes, of all things. No longer did they remember her guiding their swords in battle, bringing swift justice to their enemies as their blood spilled into red rivers on the dusty Roman ground.
Her name now was an echo, a joke, a commercial and marketing technique. She wanted to see them all pay. She wanted to choke them, to feel their hearts give way under her fingers, make them beg for death as she brought down swift punishment for ever mocking her name, for mocking her purpose.
There would be victory again, but this time, it would be hers.
Chapter Twelve
Not a word was spoken in the car as Hades hurtled down the freeway, not caring for the breakneck speed as he pushed his small, sporty car to its mechanical limits. He looked over at Ben a few times, chuckled, and shook his head, but neither of them chose to say anything until Hades came to a stop in front of a run-down home in a small neighborhood far inland.
The house itself had an old horror movie look to it, overgrown front lawns, and vines creeping over the picket fence and over every inch of the front walk-way. The windows on the second floor were covered in dirt, some were broken in places, and there were visible holes all over the thatched roof.
When Hades pushed the door open, allowing Ben to enter first, he coughed as the musty, heavy air flooded his lungs. It was impossibly warm inside, as though stale air had been trapped there for years, and he felt the wooden floors beneath him creak with age and rot.
When Hades nodded toward the stairs, Ben paused with a frown and asked, “What is this place?”
“Ah, my home, for the moment,” the god replied. “It’s old and dirty, but safe. It’s cloaked, better than it was when your nosy companions found me.”
“And you don’t think they’ll come looking here now?” Ben questioned.
“No,” Hades said with a chuckle and started up the dilapidated stairs ahead of the detective.
Ben followed with heavy trepidation as they came to the landing, and he was surprised to find that the house had only one door. The rest had obviously been sealed off years ago behind plaster and molding, but he didn’t bother to ask why. The detective he was, he could only imagine the horrors that might lie inside the old rooms, and right now he just didn’t have the capacity to deal with that.
The door at the end of the hallway opened to a more modern room, with a computer, desk, lights, and a four poster bed that looked like it hadn’t been slept on in its life. There were a couple of recliners that were completely out of place with the room and house itself, but Hades sank into one, giving a long hum of satisfaction.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing at the second chair. “I just bought these and believe me, they are heaven.”
Ben hesitated, but he realized there was no point in being reluctant over anything. He’d gone willingly with the god, and whether Hades was going to kill him or not, Ben was relatively defenseless. Crossing the room, he sat down and grudgingly agreed with Hades; it was the most comfortable chair he’d ever sat in.
“Couple grand, but so worth it,” the black-haired god said with a small wink. Swiveling it around, he rummaged inside of a small black mini fridge Ben had only just noticed, and produced a couple of dark brown beer bottles. He popped both caps with a wink, sending the tops flying across the room, and he chuckled when Ben startled from the action.
“Still not used to it,” Ben muttered as he accepted the bottle with a nod of thanks.
“Ah well, with any luck we’ll be out of your lives before you have time.” Hades took a long swig and let out a heavy, “Aaaah,” sitting back and wiggling further into the plush comfort of the seat.
Ben took a drink himself and was pleased to find he liked it. He wasn’t a beer guy, but with everything that was going on, the alcohol was welcome, and the taste was nice. “Thanks,” he said as Hades watched him.
“If it eases your anxiety at all, it’s not poisoned,” the god said and smiled. “I don’t like to kill with poison.”
“Well, no, that doesn’t help, but I appreciate the gesture,” Ben said a little sardonically. “So, what am I doing here? What do you want with me, exactly?”
“Just a chat,” Hades said. “I realize you’re not going to give me Persephone, and I respect that. I’ll eventually take her, that was always the plan. No matter how many mortals she falls in love with, they eventually die and she comes back. It’s sort of…how we work,” he finished with a shrug.
“Okay,” Ben said slowly, still completely confused as to why Hades wanted him there.
“Persephone is working with Nike,” Hades said, answering the one question Ben wanted the answer to more than anything. Ben’s face went red, but Hades continued before the detective could respond. “She was forced into it, more or less. You’re special, you and your sister, but at the time, you were somewhat inaccessible by the likes of us.”
“The atheist thing,” Ben responded quietly.
“Exactly. How’s that life choice working out for you by the way?” Hades asked with a chuckle. “I’m kidding,” he amended quickly. “You see, Nike needed your bloodline, god knows why honestly, because frankly your bloodline is fairly untraceable. You’re descended from something otherworldly, that much is obvious. The power Nike can wield inside of your sister’s body is far beyond her normal capability, but I’m willing to bet that even inside of your sister’s body, Nike has no idea where the source of the power comes from.”
“Is my sister dead?” Ben blurted out.
That gave Hades pause, and he stared at Ben for a while. “She’s as good as, if she’s not already,” he finally answered. “Whatever might be left of your sister’s consciousness isn’t going to ever recover from what Nike’s put her through. Even if there’s fight left in her, once Nike leaves, your sister won’t last long, and the time she will have on earth will be hell.”
Bile rose into Ben’s throat but he pushed it back with a long swig of the beer. He let out a breath and forced himse
lf to calm down before he continued. “So I should have left her dead.”
Hades laughed and nodded. “Oh yes, you should have most certainly left her dead. But,” he said with a sigh, “what’s done is done. Whatever you did to her slowed her down, which is good for your sake, but she’s still more powerful than any of the Greeks walking around today.”
“More than you?” Ben asked bluntly.
“No,” Hades said with a small, wicked grin. “But then again, no one really is. I’m not after power, however. I’m after survival. Like your dear friend Thor, I’m a bit attached to this place, and I have no desire to be on the losing side of things.”
“Do you know what Nike is planning?”
Hades gave a little shrug and drank from his bottle a while before answering. “Yes and no. She’s managed to connect to something on the other side. Something brand new, something that doesn’t belong here. She has a misguided belief that in bringing these beings over, she will once again be able to regain her former glory, make the humans bend to her will, worship her, and she will retain her former, corporeal form.”
“Is that even possible?” Ben asked with wide eyes.
“I’m not sure. In fact, I have no idea what she connected to. My concern, as many of my brethren are, is that whatever she wants to bring through will devour everything, us included. We were specially designed to be here, to rule and reign until the human beings were capable of moving on to their next stage of spiritual evolvement, if you will, by themselves. Then we moved on, but of course some of us, yours truly especially, rather like the pleasures of the flesh.”
“But if she’s right and does regain her corporeal form, you want in on that,” Ben finished for him.
Hades smiled, but something in his expression told Ben that he was holding something back. “I’m less invested in corporeal form than I am in a larger power source capable of giving it,” he replied. “In a fundamental way, retaining corporeal form is moving backwards on our evolutionary scale, and that…interests me.”
“And where do I fit into this whole mess?” Ben asked irritably. He finished off his beer and didn’t say no to the second that Hades offered up. “You know, all of your little god friends are harping on my importance in this matter. Frankly, I’m as confused as I was the day that maniac Judas healed me in the church.”
“Oh, let’s be fair, he’s not a maniac,” Hades said with a little chuckle. “He’s just a bit… scrambled.”
“To say the least,” Ben muttered, but in reality, he would have rather dealt with a scrambled Judas than any of the others. “Either way, people keep telling me I matter, but they have no idea how or why. The most I’ve been able to do was siphon off Judas’s healing thing and bring Nike’s vessel back to life—which we all agree at this point was a huge mistake.”
Hades laughed and gave a small shrug as he popped the top off of his own bottle. “We do indeed, although I think Nike would attempt to follow through with her plans whether she had your sister’s body or not. To be fair, it’s not the body that makes the goddess.”
Ben stared at Hades a few moments longer. He was still trying to comprehend how a mortal form could look so intensely flawless. He was real and corporeal, there was no doubt in Ben’s mind about that. He was flesh and blood, warm and very present. But there was something different about him, something unlike the others, and he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“I’m not Greek,” Hades said, as though answering Ben’s question.
Ben blinked a few times in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not one of them,” Hades said. “I don’t share the same basic composition as Persephone and Nike, and that idiot Asclepius.”
“How does that work?” Ben asked, now thoroughly confused. A small flame of fear and trepidation began to burn in his gut, and he felt suddenly that Hades was much more than he seemed. “What are you then?”
“I don’t know,” the god confessed. “You know that story of the human abandoned in the jungle and raised by wolves?”
Ben nodded with a frown, the beer bottle pressed to his lips. “Mm-hmm.”
“I rather equate my upbringing with that story. A powerful, more advanced being, orphaned, the only one of his kind in the vast jungle of the lesser forms. Yet raised and reared by them, I owe them some allegiance, but I’d never stopped searching for something like me.”
“Do you know why they need me?” Ben asked bluntly.
“No,” Hades said, and then gave a heavy sigh. “If I did, I suppose I wouldn’t be sitting here drinking beer with you. I believe at that point I’d begin negotiations.”
“Fair,” Ben said. “I guess we’re in the same boat.”
“What I really want to talk about is Persephone, or…Stella, if you’re more comfortable.”
“Frankly, nothing about her is comfortable for me,” Ben all-but snapped. The very sound of her name set him on edge, enough to make him forget where he was and who he was with. He looked over at Hades’s face, which had gone devoid of expression and he reined it in. “I know you love her, and I apologize, but she lied and put us all in danger.”
“No,” Hades said. “She lied, saved your life, and killed your sister.”
All of the blood drained from Ben’s face as he looked at the god. His vision blurred as the words set in, surprised that they had such an intense effect. “What?”
“I was going for shock value,” Hades said with a small laugh. “It’s true though, and I suppose I’m trying to make you hate her enough to kill her.”
“I thought gods can’t be killed,” Ben heard himself say. He wasn’t in total control and began to operate on auto-pilot as Hades spoke.
“I want her vessel dead,” he replied with a shrug. He pulled a small wooden box out from under his chair and opened it, revealing very long, very thin cigars. “They’re ancient,” he said as Ben took one out, “but safe.”
Hades handed over a slim, silver lighter which Ben used, and was surprised by the light, sweet, fragrant smoke. Hades lit his own, put the box down, and blew several smoke rings into the air.
“You see,” the god continued, “Persephone has been watching you since you were quite young.” Ben gave a nod, unable to answer for fear of giving in to his rage. “She’s been in love with you since your conception, having known who you were going to be. Perhaps I speak from a place of jealousy. Envy really is my forte more often than not, however, it’s an honest fact. When she learned that Nike meant to eliminate any possible threat from your bloodline, save for the vessel she intended to use, Persephone made her a deal.”
“My life for my sister.”
“Not so much that, as she would prevent you from taking part in the efforts to stop her, and she would make obtaining your sister’s body easy,” Hades corrected. “In exchange for that, Nike would spare your life, no matter what.”
“I take it things went south for her,” Ben said a little sardonically.
Hades chuckled loudly and rose, opening the window near the chair, and he perched up on the windowsill, balancing on one thigh. “You could say that. You weren’t supposed to meet Mark and Jude, and I can tell you right now, Nike is not pleased that the Norse ones are involved. Vessel or not, if given the right conditions, they could kick her ass right into oblivion. Literally.”
“What are the right conditions?” Ben questioned.
Hades smirked. “Oh, you take me for a fool still, Benny, how disappointing. I’m not going to reveal all of my secrets.”
Ben sighed and gave a little shrug. “Fine.”
“Now, Nike is ready to tear up the contract between her and Persephone, however Persephone offered to give up the location of the remaining portal that holds enough power to bring something through, provided they can power it up enough.”
“Which is why she needs Mark,” Ben said, though the pieces didn’t fully connect for him yet. He wasn’t sure how pieces of paper turning regular, every day humans into Jesus-crazed cult leaders would hel
p.
“There’s power behind worship, Ben,” Hades said. “There’s power behind the frenzied emotions and abject devotion that only human beings are capable of. If given the right circumstances, human beings will draw on their collective consciousness and form an unfathomable power source. Nike wants to use that to open the portal and return herself to power.”
The very idea that humans held such a vast amount of power sent shivers up Ben’s spine. Despite being somewhat egotistical about his own abilities, Ben didn’t hold the human race in very high esteem. As a homicide detective, the humans he dealt with were cowards. They were unevolved, violent criminals, unable to resist their most basic, primal urges. They raped and murdered, and most of them weren’t even very sorry for it. They were like toddlers, unaware of their own strength, consumed by taking what they desired, without regard to consequence or the basic right to human life. The idea that any of these beings could wield such power made Ben feel ill.
“Being who I am, I wonder if harnessing that power will allow me to discover my origins,” Hades finished in Ben’s silence.
Ben stared at the god in wonder. In absolute awe, he thought about his situation, who he knew, the things he’d experienced. It was difficult to wrap his mind around, but he had to push that aside. “What do you want from me, now?”
Hades looked back at Ben, his straight face slowly melting into a smile, and he gave a little shrug. “I don’t know,” he said through his chuckles. “I don’t know, dear Benjamin. I suppose part of me wanted to size you up. To see what was so special about you that you would be protected at all costs. I wanted to see what Persephone loved about you so dearly, why she would compromise everything about her being to save your life.”
“And…” Ben pressed.
“I still don’t know.”
Ben surprised himself by laughing, the sound erupting from him as he doubled forward, his head swaying back and forth. It was just so ridiculous, and just his absolute luck. No one knew. He was wanted, dead or alive, and no one knew why! He wiped a few tears from the corner of his eye and gave a little sigh. “Well, that just goddamn figures.”
Cry, Nike! (The Judas Curse) Page 10
