Keras: Guardians of Hades Series Book 7

by Heaton, Felicity

  And she would be his downfall.

  He felt sure of that.

  Because he had never stopped loving her.

  It was the one emotion he had wanted to shake, to kill, and the only one he couldn’t. It had plagued him throughout his years on Earth, torturing him and driving him to the brink of insanity, pushing him to take the pills that offered him some small fraction of relief from the pain.

  Because she could never be his.

  He was a fool.

  Loving someone who belonged to another.

  He stared at the ring on his thumb and reached for it with his other hand, brushed his fingers over it as emotions bubbled to the surface, feelings he wanted to hold back but didn’t have the strength to do so. She had stripped it from him.

  His thoughts drifted, conjuring the times long ago when they had been together, recounting all the times she had smiled at him.

  Remembering the moment when his feelings of friendship had slowly grown into something more for him, despite the fact he had known she was betrothed to another, and how sure he had been that her feelings for him had been changing too.

  When his father had told him that he was sending him and his brothers to the mortal world, banishing them from the Underworld, he had been angry, hadn’t wanted to leave because part of him had been aware that Enyo couldn’t go to the mortal world unless a war was in progress there. The thought of leaving her had cut him deeply, drawing out his darker side, rousing a fierce determination to fight his father on the decision and do whatever it took to remain in the Underworld.

  Where he could see her as much as he wanted.

  Where he could convince her to love him instead, to marry him instead.

  And then she had come to him and meekly told him that her betrothal had been formally announced, and the look in her eyes had confirmed she was going to go through with it.

  Had left him feeling he had been mistaken and she felt nothing for him beyond friendship, and never would.

  Gods, he had been glad his father had sent him to the mortal world after that, had been swift to depart the Underworld and not look back.

  He had thought he would be free of her, would forget her and move on.

  He hadn’t.

  He had carried that pain in his heart for two centuries, had never stopped thinking about her.

  His gaze shifted to the pill box, drawn to it even when he knew it wasn’t a good idea.

  The pills wouldn’t help him.

  Not with this.

  He closed his eyes again, wanting to shut out the sight of them and the temptation.

  Wishing they were gone.

  But afraid of that happening at the same time.

  Without the pills, he was too strong to be in this world. He had been struck by that the moment he had left the Underworld, carrying pain in his heart, fuel for the darker side of his blood that burned constant. The more violent and destructive side of his nature, a gift from his father’s genes, had come to the fore and he had discovered the reason Hades remained locked in the Underworld.

  Because he was a danger to this world.

  A force so powerful that it couldn’t withstand him.

  So not taking the pills wasn’t an option.

  Without them, the malevolent side of his nature, the hateful and dark part of him that had grown strong throughout the centuries he had been in the mortal realm, would consume him.

  And nothing would be able to stop him from wreaking havoc on this world.

  He placed his hands over the pill box and fought the urge to cast it away from him. He told himself the pills were necessary. A safeguard. The only way of keeping his power under control.

  He despised them.

  He closed his fist around the small stone box, tempted to crush them as anger rose to obliterate the part of him that was deeply aware of how much he needed them.

  Not only because they helped him control his power.

  He needed them to steal his emotions too, knew he couldn’t cope with his feelings without them. He could only cope with the world when he was high. Nothing mattered to him then.

  A double-edged sword.

  The reason he despised the pills as much as he loved them.

  They killed the twisted, choking tangle of his emotions, freeing him from them, but they also killed his ability to care. How many times had he left Calistos in danger because he had been too high to give a damn, and had only regretted it for a moment afterwards? When had he stopped caring about anything?

  He could feel once, was sure he remembered a time when he had cared about this world and his brothers.

  Now, he couldn’t muster that emotion.

  He wasn’t interested in anyone, didn’t care about the fate of this world. He just wanted this miserable duty over with. He lifted his hand and stared at the box as a feeling curled through him, a thought that had whispered through his mind more than once in the last few months.

  He tried to shun it, but it was powerful, had his thoughts treading a dark path.

  He wanted to go home. That was the reason he wanted this war done and his mission completed.

  It wasn’t because he wanted to die.

  Was only holding on because of a sense of duty, forcing himself to keep going until his mission was done and the Underworld and his family were safe.

  Keras growled as he shoved up off the counter, as he rammed the pill box into his trouser pocket and seized the bottle of vodka with his other hand.

  He didn’t want to die.

  He didn’t.

  Darkness flooded him, hatred aimed at himself, a black dangerous emotion that roused a need for violence, for pain. For bloodshed. He stared at the bottle, fighting the urge to drink it all, to drown himself in it in some twisted hope that something would happen.

  What?

  He wasn’t sure what he wanted to happen. Did he want to feel something? Drown the pain of seeing Enyo again?

  Destroy this world?

  Himself?

  He wasn’t sure which of those things he wanted. His fangs descended as he growled again, as he shoved a hand through his hair and clawed it back. What did he want?

  What did it matter?

  He unscrewed the cap of the bottle.

  Froze when his phone vibrated.

  He set the bottle down and reached for it instead, pulling it from his left pocket.

  A message.

  From Valen.

  Five words that had him forgetting the vodka.

  Big Trouble in Little Tokyo.

  Chapter 4

  It only took Enyo ten minutes to muster the courage to open the heavy wooden gate set into the high white wall of the mansion in Tokyo. The moment she did, the power of the wards that protected the house and grounds wrapped around her. It pushed against her at first, and she stilled, let the wards do their work to detect whether she was friend or foe.

  Relief washed through her when she wasn’t thrown back out into the street by them. None of the brothers had banned her from this sacred place. That gave her hope and boosted her courage.

  She peeked around the thick dark panel of the gate, gaze scanning the entire front garden of the impressive single-storey building. It was beautiful, the white walls a contrast to the ancient dark wooden pillars and beams, and the glazed ribbed grey tiles of the roof that swept in a gentle curve to end in circular caps decorated with various animals and flowers.

  No one was in the garden, so she eased inside and closed the gate behind her.

  She followed the broad steppingstones that cut through the pale gravel, winding between huge stone lanterns and around elegantly clipped topiary.

  At the porch, she followed the quaint custom of the country, removing her boots and placing them on a wooden rack with the others.

  A lot of others.

  The last time she had dared to come to this place, only to look from a distance at it, there had been a few pairs of shoes on the rack, one for each brother. Now there was feminine footwear m
ixed in with their heavy boots.

  Times really had changed.

  Voices came from beyond the half-opened door. She picked out a few of them, recognising Valen as he swore about something, and Daimon and Calistos too.

  They all sounded on edge.

  Because of her?

  Had Keras told them she had come to visit him and that she had angered him?

  Or perhaps it was because she had dared to enter the grounds of the mansion without permission.

  She pushed the door open, an apology for entering unannounced rising to the tip of her tongue.

  A blonde woman rushed past her, hot on the heels of Calistos.

  Enyo’s gaze tracked them as they disappeared around a corner to her left.

  “The spell is holding,” a black-haired woman said, her thick Russian accent making her sound angry when she didn’t feel it to Enyo. “His fire is under control for now. The bracelet I made—”

  “I don’t like that this spell of yours is only holding and my brother’s fire is under control for now. I want a more permanent solution,” Esher snapped, his blue eyes dangerously bright.

  Beside him, a pretty Japanese woman petted his arm. “Everything will be fine. Please calm down.”

  He spared the petite black-haired female a glance, and then his gaze strayed back to her and lingered. “I am trying… but Ares is in danger of burning the entire building down.”

  She smiled softly, but said nothing.

  “Well, we can’t use the outbuilding because it’s being used for cold storage,” Daimon put in.

  “Cold storage?” Curiosity pulled those words from Enyo.

  Everyone glanced at her, none of them looking surprised to see her.

  “We have two of the enemy dead and on ice. We’re keeping them away from the enemy in the hope they might want them back.” Marek ran a hand around the back of his neck and then rubbed his left shoulder through his black linen shirt.

  A woman with caramel-coloured wavy hair stepped up behind him and kneaded his shoulders, her soft voice lightly accented with a Spanish note as she spoke. “You’re too tense. I’m too tense.”

  “Dial it back,” Valen barked as he paced across the golden mats. “I’m on edge enough as it is.”

  Enyo wasn’t sure what his problem was, but as she looked at each brother in turn, she noticed that he wasn’t the only one who looked on edge. They all did.

  “Marek.” Daimon scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Just deal with her. We have this.”

  “Watch your tone, little brother.” Marek glared at him, but it faded as he looked at the rest of his brothers and seemed to notice the strain that showed on all their faces.

  Strain that only increased Enyo’s sense of curiosity.

  He took hold of Caterina’s hand and led her away.

  They both paused as Cal bit out, “Maybe take her to Scotland or something. I can’t handle this shit.”

  Marek glowered at Cal and then disappeared, leaving swirling black ribbons of smoke behind.

  “Thank fuck,” Valen muttered, and she didn’t miss how a lot of the tension drained from the room, especially the brothers. He glanced at her, his golden eyes losing their brightness as he finally stopped pacing. “Fun fact. Marek’s girl-fiend has a hefty dose of succubus in her and her living in this house with everyone else is a bloody nightmare.”

  That explained one thing for her, but she still wanted to know about the other.

  “If the two you have in cold storage are dead, what use are they to the enemy?”

  “Cass here is a sorceress.” Daimon gestured to the black-haired woman beside him, his pale blue eyes warming as he gazed at her. Enyo presumed Cass was Daimon’s lover. “She knows necromancy magic and the enemy want her so they can bring their dead back… since we killed their necromancer.”

  Interesting.

  Almost as interesting as the fact none of the brothers seemed at all bothered by her presence. It was as if it was perfectly natural for her to be standing here among everyone, part of the team.

  “What are you doing?” Cal frowned at Esher and then looked at his brothers. “What is he doing?”

  Esher didn’t look up from his phone. “Ordering a tent.”

  “A tent?” Valen crossed the room to him and swiped his phone from him, earning a black look from Esher. “Seriously? He was ordering a tent. What the hell, man? Have a heart. Your big bro is out cold after closing a gate, and you want him to do what… sleep it off in the garden?”

  Esher snatched his phone back, his eyes narrowing on Valen. “Fine, he can sleep it off in the bath.”

  “He’ll drown.” Daimon held his hands up when Esher turned his glare on him. “Think about Megan. You want Megan hanging out at the bath all hours of the day and night to watch over him?”

  “The babe,” Esher murmured, his frown fading as his gaze lost focus.

  The Japanese woman stroked his arm. “Megan should be comfortable. Ares should be comfortable. I have an idea.”

  He glanced at her and his eyebrows knitted hard as she released him and walked away. His gaze tracked her. Enyo’s did too. Mostly because she couldn’t take her eyes off her.

  The brothers were all dressed similarly, wearing dark shades and plain modern clothing of jeans and T-shirts or shirts. Even some of the women in the group were dressed in such a manner. With the exception of two of them.

  The witch, Cass, wore a slinky black dress that had a long slit up her thigh.

  And the Japanese woman wore black and white striped stockings, a purple and black plaid pleated short skirt, and a neon pink T-shirt with violet skulls printed on it.

  Enyo had never seen anything quite like her.

  She went into a room beyond the low dining table to Enyo’s left and re-emerged with a flat red package.

  “A fire blanket?” Daimon rolled his ice-blue eyes. “You’re as bad as each other.”

  The woman pouted, her fine eyebrows furrowing above her dark chocolate eyes.

  Esher growled and bared fangs at Daimon. “Aiko’s idea is a good one.”

  Daimon raised his hands again. “Fine. Aiko’s idea is a good one.”

  He muttered something else beneath his breath, and Esher looked as if he wanted to growl again. Aiko came to him and he shifted his focus to her instead, swept his knuckles across her cheek to clear her black hair from it and smiled down at her.

  Looking proud.

  Keras’s family had always been interesting.

  It appeared the addition of the women had only made it even more interesting.

  Esher suddenly stiffened and growled.

  “Daemons.”

  “Here?” Valen looked around him.

  Daimon shot him a look that asked if he had lost his mind, or perhaps insinuated he was stupid, because Valen glared at him, lifted his right arm and rolled his hand upwards, extending his middle finger at the same time.

  With his other hand, he typed on the screen of his own phone. “Calling it in.”

  When Esher, Daimon and Calistos teleported, Enyo realised where the daemons Esher had sensed were.

  She followed them, appearing on the rooftop of a neighbouring building in the heart of a cluster of skyscrapers in the centre of Tokyo.

  Where the sun weakly beat down on her, not strong enough to take the chill from the air but strong enough to deter daemons. The breeds that had been banished from the Underworld, and even some of the ones who had been allowed to remain, were sensitive to sunlight. Exposure to it had a tendency to kill them if they didn’t seek the shadows.

  “It is daylight,” she hollered to the brothers.

  “Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,” Calistos said. “I don’t think they got the memo though.”

  She frowned at him, tempted to put him in his place, but her gaze strayed beyond him when he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

  Over the rooftop where the gate was hidden, someone had cast a shadowy dome.

  “That’s new,” Daimon mutt
ered.

  Esher slid him a look. “Are we sure they didn’t get their hands on any of Cassandra’s blood?”

  “Look, magic isn’t something you just absorb… well, it is… but they’d need to know the spells.” Daimon shrugged, his voice losing conviction as he added, “Which I’m guessing they’ve been working on since we last saw them.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  “Holy shit, is that—” Calistos cut himself off when Esher suddenly disappeared. He looked at Daimon, who teleported too, and then at her. He hiked his shoulders, raising the hem of his black T-shirt. “Guess we fight.”

  He disappeared too.

  Enyo looked at the mass of shadows clouding the top of the next building, attempting to peer through them to see what the brothers had.

  A lot of daemons swarmed the rooftop.

  She stilled as she caught a flash of blonde hair and a face that looked eerily familiar.

  The woman looked like the one who had been pursuing Calistos in the mansion.

  It dawned on Enyo.

  The furie.

  She had heard that the brothers had one on their side, and that the other two were with the enemy. This woman had to be the remaining one of those two Erinyes.

  A goddess of the Underworld.

  Anger surged through Enyo’s blood, as hot as fire, roused by the thought that goddesses of that realm were turning against it and the god-king who ruled it.

  Shameful, despicable creatures.

  Power flooded her and she turned her sights on the woman, the world narrowing down to only her as she fought to hold herself back, to resist the pressing urge to leap into the fray and deal with the traitorous goddess.

  This wasn’t her battle to fight.

  The blonde froze and looked at her.

  Their gazes collided.

  Fear washed across the female’s features and she pivoted away from the gate as it began to open. She sprinted across the flat roof, and Enyo’s gaze leaped ahead of her, desire to know where the female was going filling her.

  Violet-black smoke billowed near the edge of the roof, sparking with green lightning.

  The female leaped into it.

  One of the brothers swore.

  Esher grabbed two daemons and both males shuddered, their eyes rolling back in their heads. He cast them aside, hurling them into the other daemons. “Are they testing our response time?”