“I was flying over Normandy,” Apollo said, his voice far off. “I settled there once, lived in a tiny village, a one-roomed cottage. It was cold there, but I could heat the place with this gorgeous little stove in the middle of the room, and the woman who lived below me always baked me things and left them on my doorstep. I would fly over the fields and the sheep farms there, listening to the animals. It rained a lot, more than it does here, and everything is so green. Would you like to go there with me one day?”
Jude smiled. “No, but ask me again another time.”
Apollo reached out and stroked his hand down Jude’s cheek. Jude sighed, closing his eyes, and let himself lean into the caress, just for a moment. “You’re not dreaming.”
“I know.”
“You’re going to give in to me soon, and it’s going to destroy Mark.”
Jude winced, but Apollo was telling the truth. “I’m probably going to leave soon. Leave him, seek refuge.”
“I know,” Apollo replied, echoing Jude’s words in the same exact tone.
Jude smiled and shook his head. “I wish I feared you. I wish there was some part of me that could fear you. It would make running from you so much easier.”
Apollo hopped off the railing and took Jude, hard by the front of his shirt. He backed him up against the wall and put his face painfully close to the immortal’s, his breath ghosting over his skin as he spoke. “They all say that, you know. Even the ones who die moments after I kiss them. They all wish they could fear me, and none of them ever do.”
Jude reached up and touched Apollo’s skin. Sometimes it looked impossibly smooth, as though made of marble, but it was soft, pliant and warm. “It’s going to have to end some day, you know.”
“I know,” Apollo said, and then he kissed Jude, hard and firm, like he always did, and then he pulled back, his voice low and rough. “I know it will, and I’m going to be there to watch it all burn.”
Fin
Sample of The Judas Curse Book Four:
The Empty Vessel
Ben sat in stoic silence, glowering across the table at Hades. Jude had declined food, instead taking a bottle of wine and curling up on one of Ben’s chairs outside. He didn’t seem to notice the chilly wind whipping across the city as a storm blew in, and the only movement he made was to bring the bottle to his lips every now and again.
“Is he going to die?” Ben finally asked.
Hades let out a small breath and looked over at the back of Jude, cocking his head to the side. “Hard to tell. Up to this point he’s believed to be immortal. But, he’s slipping.”
Ben gave a slow nod. Hades was right, and Ben could feel it, feel something slipping away from Jude, draining the life out of him. Ben wasn’t sure if it would kill Jude, and if he was left alive once Apollo had taken everything from him, it would be a fate far worse than death. “Do you know how much I wish I could tell you both to fuck off?” Ben rose and grabbed his empty glass, storming to the kitchen cabinet where he kept his really good scotch. “I don’t know what it is, either. Why I can’t tell that son of a bitch no.”
“Maybe it’s your destiny,” Hades offered, his hands spreading out.
Ben looked over at the winged god and then laughed, his head shaking back and forth. “Destiny? I may not know you well, but I know you’re better than that.” He took a drink of the scotch and then topped his glass of again.
Hades had a small smirk on his face and waited until Ben dropped back down onto the uncomfortable wooden chair before he spoke. “Whether we like it or not, destiny plays some role in our lives. It might not be the Hollywood movie style of destiny, but we all have some purpose in us.”
Ben swallowed a mouthful and said thickly, “Oh yeah, I’m sure. I’m sure the universe wanted that crazy bitch to take over my sister’s body and murder people.” He cleared his throat and set his glass down a little harder than necessary. “I’m sure a good girl like her was fated to be destroyed from the inside out, blown up and then shot in the head.”
Hades’s smile turned sad and he pulled his gaze away from Ben. “It’s strange, how much fight you still have in you, Benny-boy. You’ve seen the most unspeakable, unbelievable things. You’ve done them, and you still don’t quite understand.”
Ben’s jaw clenched and he sat back in the chair, arms folding over his chest. “It’s a little more complicated than understanding.” He gave a bitter laugh and his head shook. “I don’t expect you to understand. I mean, the first thing I figured out about your kind is your fundamental inability to understand humans. The very idea of self-sacrifice is beyond you.”
Hades rose and went to the kitchen. The half-drunk bottle of cab sat on the counter and he grabbed it, topping off his glass. He leaned against the kitchen sink, his arm folded lazily over his body, and for the quickest moment, Ben caught a flash of the wings looming in the background. They shivered in the shadows and then disappeared.
“I hate to say you’re right about anything,” Hades said, pausing to take a sip of the wine, “but you’ve got us in one.” He hopped up on the side of the sink and crossed his feet at his ankles. “We’re a selfish bunch, no denying it. We’re rude and most of us don’t understand humans.” He cocked his head to the side and looked at Ben for a long moment. “But you forget who I am, Benny. What I am, what I can see, what I feel when I’m around you. I feel you living and dying, and unlike the others, I understand the purpose of humans. I understand more than you ever could, just how powerful you are.”
A shiver crept up Ben’s spine but he ignored it, warming himself with another sip of the liquor. “That doesn’t mean we live by destiny. I may have seen a lot, but I refuse to believe there’s some blueprint of our lives mapped out there, dictating where we go, and how it all ends.”
Hades laughed, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “No Ben, of course not. Out there,” he waved his hand toward the ceiling, “is chaos. It’s massive and formless, and it’s terrifying. I don’t remember where I came from, what it was like, but I remember being born afraid, and I remember all of this,” he rapped his knuckles on the hard counter, “was new and different. But you can’t deny one thing, Benny,” he said and tipped his glass at the detective, “some of us are just special. No matter what form we take, how many of us there are, some of us are different.”
Ben pursed his lips and looked away from Hades. He was seething inside, aching to argue, and hating the god because he was right. Abby had been special, and because she had been special, she had been chosen. Targeted. Murdered. He swallowed thickly and said, “And like me, you’re different.”
Hades hopped down and with inhuman grace, slid into the chair opposite Ben. “Like you, I’m different. Apollo and Artemis were so alike. Even Persephone, the child of both worlds, was like them. Confused, angry, desperate to be remembered and loved. Afraid. That’s the difference, Benny-boy, between us and them. They’re afraid.”
“And we’re just tired,” Ben finished.
Hades’s grin lit up his entire face and he sat back. “So you do understand.”
Ben glanced back out at Jude who had now slumped forward, his head hanging low over the gap between his knees. “And what about him? Was he special? Or was he in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“I don’t think that’s a question I can answer.”
After some time, Hades had wandered off, and feeling drunk enough to lower his guard, Ben walked to the back door and stepped outside. Jude twitched at the sound of Ben stepping onto the terrace, but he didn’t look up. The wind had died down, and through the foggy night, ran had begun to fall, a fine mist spraying down over the city. The low-hanging porch of the neighbor above kept most of the rain away from the two men, but in his drunken state, Ben found the mist soothing.
He stepped past Jude, brushing up against him for a second, and sat in the chair. “So,” Ben said after some time.
There was a pause, and then Jude chuckled, looking up with red-rimmed eyes and sallow skin. “Ah, word
s of wisdom.”
Ben had to laugh, and he shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say. You’re dying, and I don’t know how to save you. Hades can go on and on for hours, but he has no idea what he’s really doing. God knows where Mark is, Alex isn’t taking my calls, and if we don’t do something soon, these suicides are going to cause a mass hysteria.”
“He’s finished for now,” Jude said, his voice low and rough.
Ben quirked an eyebrow. “How do you know?”
“He told me.” Jude gave a tired smile and sat back, his head leaning against the side of the chair. “It doesn’t matter where I go, you know. He finds me. He finds me and he touches me. He holds me, God, tighter than anyone ever has. And it’s wrong and it’s going to kill me but I just… I just can’t seem to care anymore.”
Ben leaned forward, his forearms resting across his thighs. “So why did you call Captain Jackass in on the case? Why bother with him?”
“Because I want to care,” Jude said, and almost involuntarily, he gave a little sob. He swiped his hand over his brow and fell forward, his head hovering down over his thighs. “If I truly believed I was dying, I’d let him take me.” It was quiet admission, something spoken in the back of his throat, low and sounded painful. “If I thought for one moment I could just end this, I’d… I’d just go.”
“And what happens if he does take you? What happens to you, then?”
Jude looked up and smiled, his head shaking back and forth just slightly. “I don’t know.” He laughed a little and sat back, rubbing his face. He looked exhausted, like a man who hadn’t slept in months. Nothing like the man Ben had met a year before. Nothing like the man he pictured from Mark’s scripture. “Mark’s always been able to pull me back. That was his gift… to me anyway. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, but only Mark could put me together again.” Even his laugh sounded broken. “Now he can’t. Apollo’s seen to that.”
“And if we can kill him, all of this goes away.” It was a statement, but Ben was unsure it really would be that easy. Killing Apollo wasn’t possible, but sending him back through a portal was. And while even that all sounded completely impossible, Ben feared it wouldn’t end there.
Jude rose and stretched upward, his fingertips nearly brushing the balcony above him. “That’s the idea, isn’t it? That’s why I’m here. That’s why Hades is calling on every single contact he’s got to try and figure out how Apollo can be stopped.”
Ben’s stomach sank at the realization it was Hades they had to rely on. It was the smarmy, southern-comfort soaked, would-be angel who didn’t seem to have a clue what to do. The being who spent millennia with his mind wrapped around Apollo’s daughter. The being the modern world knew as Satan himself. The being who was just learning how to be free. And he was supposed to help Jude?
Ben gave a bitter laugh but realized Jude had already gone inside. He eyed the pack of cigarettes crammed in his secret spot and gave in. What did it matter, anyway? Ben knew there was a slim to no chance of getting out of this alive this time. Apollo was stronger, and smarter, and so much crazier than any of them were. He was faster, and even though the other gods often seemed solely self-serving, Apollo truly was. Humanity didn’t matter to him. They were cattle, and as much as Ben was developing his own methods of defense, drawing on power he didn’t understand and only half accepted, he would never be strong enough to face that god.
He took a long pull on the cigarette and sat back as the smoke drifted upwards. “We’re all screwed,” he said to himself and smiled. They really were.
Angella Graff studied theology at the University of Arizona where she currently lives in Tucson, Arizona with her husband Joshua, three children, two cats, and two frisky Marimo Moss Ball. When Angella isn’t writing, she’s participating in activities with her children, going on family hikes, practicing yoga, and watching endless Doctor Who and BBC Sherlock marathons with her husband.
Check out Angella’s current and future work at
http://www.angellagraff.com
Cry, Nike! (The Judas Curse) Page 27
