“I’m concerned about the enemy. What they said.” She sighed. “They’ve been testing other witches and it felt as if they were testing me. Those daemons hit the barrier in waves, as if they had wanted to see how much damage it could take before it would fall.”
“I think it was just a test to see how powerful your magic was, not how much damage a barrier cast by you could take before it failed.” Daimon shoved his hands into his pockets and took hold of his phone, found the pendant attached to it and held it.
It was better he kept his distance from Cass, endeavoured to keep things between them as they were, not letting his feelings grow into anything more. He would remain loyal to Penelope. He owed her that much, didn’t he?
Or was he just using her memory to keep his heart closed, to protect himself from more pain?
Ares cast a worried glance down at Megan. “I think I should take you to the Underworld.”
Megan turned on him, planting her hands on her hips at the same time. “No. You need me here. I’m not going to the Underworld. I won’t be separated from you. Not right now. Not ever.”
Her hands shifted to her baby bump and she clutched it through her jumper, shaking her head.
“I won’t go.” Her voice hitched. “I need to be here.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Ares stretched his hands out to her and she backed off a step, shaking her head more frantically.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have gone through with it.” Her voice tightened with each word and Daimon could sense her mounting panic.
Ares’s face crumpled and he took hold of her arm, gently pulled her to him and settled his left arm around her trembling shoulders as he placed his right hand on her belly. He rubbed it gently between her hands.
“Don’t talk like that, baby. This is a blessing. Nothing will happen to the baby. Nothing will happen to you. I swear it. I love you both.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“I’m fat,” Megan muttered, the panic Daimon could feel in her washing away as she sagged against Ares.
Ares smiled softly, his eyes warmed by love. “You’ve never been so sexy. You’re beautiful.”
Daimon looked away, unable to bear it. He felt Cass’s eyes on him, but refused to look at her, kept his head down so he didn’t have to see anyone. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them, not when the rage he had been holding on to for centuries still wanted an outlet.
Not when it hurt so much he couldn’t breathe.
A single fear consumed him, tearing down his walls, ripping him to pieces and stoking the rage.
That his brother was going to suffer the same painful fate as he had.
Chapter 13
Enyo didn’t take her eyes off the sun-kissed terracotta roofs of the white city that sprawled below her on the side of Mount Olympus as her brother swept into the room, the gentle patter of feet that accompanied the heavier thuds of his boots telling her that his usual entourage was with him. Ares didn’t go anywhere without at least four attendants, all of them female.
They prattled on as they hurried after him, taking two strides for each one of his as he briskly walked across the colourful mosaic floor of the main room of their house.
She frowned at the world beyond the window.
His house.
The fact the mosaic featured only him amidst the glory of an ancient battle, a war in which she had fought beside him together with Eris and her siblings, would have made it clear he viewed the palatial white marble building where she lived as his home even if he hadn’t told her that a million times to her face.
Women and men dressed in fine clothing drifted along the cobbled street far below the promontory of pale rock upon which Ares’s grand temple and home stood. A trio of females dressed in elegant pale blue, soft pink and lilac dresses halted beneath one of the towering cypress trees that lined the broad road and glanced up, their gazes lingering as they bent their heads towards each other.
No doubt speaking about the man of the house.
The scent of ambrosia permeated the air as she heard the slosh of liquid behind her. Ares grunted and slammed a hand against the furniture, most likely the finely crafted wooden sideboard that acted as his bar.
“This batch is good.” He refilled his goblet as she turned her side to the window, adjusting her position on the elegant blue velvet chaise longue that was her favourite perch.
He strode into view.
Sunlight streamed in through the window where she sat, bathing his tanned skin as he came to a halt in front of her. The warm rays glinted off the gold plates of his greaves and vambraces, and the pointed slats that hung from his thick gold belt. The white leather those slats were mounted on and the pale blue cloth that hung beneath them to hide his upper thighs and give him a modicum of dignity were both splattered with crimson.
Her brother had been brawling again.
She idly toyed with the three braids on the left side of her long black hair, pretending she hadn’t noticed that he had been off getting into fights and whoring himself while she had been left to do the work at the temple.
Greeting and tending to pilgrims who had come to see him, and who were inevitably disappointed to be seen by her instead.
The twittering group of ‘aides’ that constantly followed him lingered just beyond him, watching him closely. She didn’t recognise some of their faces. Her brother had an appetite for war and for sex, and the whole of Olympus knew that securing a position within his circle of attendants was a sure-fire way of getting bedded by him. She swore he went through a new set of aides every week, discarding and replacing them when he grew bored of what they had to offer.
Sometimes, she was sure her brother didn’t have a heart to give, or perhaps he had already given it to himself.
The golden-haired male grinned at her, his blue eyes brightening with it.
She waited, because he obviously had something he wanted to tell her and he wanted her to ask him about it—playing the doting sister—and she wasn’t really in the mood today.
When she said nothing, he shoved his gold goblet at one of the females and unlatched his rich blue cloak. It dropped to the mosaic floor and another attendant was swift to stoop and gather it into her arms before backing away from him.
Ares grumbled as he unfastened the leather straps of his golden chest piece, removed it and inspected a dent in the moulded metal that had been crafted to mimic his body. A body he now proudly displayed as he turned to his aides, causing a wave of blushing and heated glances at his muscular torso.
“Take this to the blacksmith. I want it repaired immediately.” His deep voice rolled through the room with authority as he held his breastplate out with one hand and snatched his goblet back with the other. “Leave us.”
All four females immediately obeyed.
Ares lapped it up, his twisted smirk telling her how much he enjoyed having the females do his bidding without question, leaping to execute whatever order he gave them.
When his blue gaze shifted back to her, that satisfied edge melted into something akin to disappointment.
Because as the centuries they had lived together progressed, his dominating nature had begun to chafe and she had begun to defy him?
“You do not ask me for news from Olympus. It is not like you to not want to know the rumours spreading through the city.” Ares quaffed his ambrosia, a twinkle entering his eyes as he studied her over the rim of the goblet. “You seem out of spirits since that last war in the mortal realm ended.”
“Not at all.” Enyo smoothed her black skirt down as she shifted her legs over the side of her seat and sat up. “It is a little too warm for my tastes today and I am tired.”
Unlike her brother, she didn’t feel the need to wear her full armour when in Olympus. Her black leather and silver breastplate and matching boots were enough protection for her.
She glanced back over her shoulder.
It wasn’t as if anyone would dare attack her in Ares’s home after
all.
She couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed her to venture into the city without him plastered to her side, there to take whatever gratitude was offered to them for their assistance in wars and disputes, stealing every drop of it for himself.
“Hermes has been getting into trouble again.” Ares sank into a throne-like armchair on the other side of the low wooden table to her and swirled his ambrosia, a thoughtful look on his handsome face as he pursed his lips. “Morpheus has been off causing trouble in dreams again. Predatory bastard. Apparently this time, he targeted many Nereids.”
Enyo wanted to snort at that. Her brother had the gall to call Morpheus predatory because he had been inserting himself into the dreams of the sea nymphs? Ares had tried to insert himself into their lives countless times, had stalked the most beautiful of them and had managed to convince many of them to open their thighs to him.
“And the Underworld is in an uproar of course.”
Enyo jerked to attention, her jade eyes fixing on her brother.
The glint in his blue eyes told her that he had known she would react to the mention of that realm, and that he was going to torment her by drawing out this news because she wanted to hear it.
“Ares,” she whispered, imploring him, not above begging him now. Her heart drummed a sickening rhythm against her breast and she fought to calm it, aware that if Ares noticed the urgent tick of her pulse that he would only make this more agonising for her. “What news comes from the Underworld?”
Ares hiked his bare shoulders and crossed his legs as he eased back in his chair.
Her lips compressed, anger spiking in her blood and igniting a hunger to leap at him and force him to answer her.
His wicked smile said he had sensed that in her too.
Before she could warn him not to torment her, he spoke.
“The third-born of Hades has re-entered the realm, apparently in pursuit of a daemon. Hades has his legions hunting for the male.”
Esher.
Esher had once again ignored the terms of his banishment, but this time to hunt down a daemon. One of their enemy?
It worried her.
She knew Hades.
She knew the weight of what Esher had done, along with everything else, rested firmly upon Keras’s shoulders. She couldn’t imagine the pressure he was under now.
Her dark eyebrows furrowed as she thought about him, about how Hades would expect him to take full responsibility for whatever mayhem Esher caused in the Underworld, and for any harm the daemon caused in that realm too.
The pressing need she had been fighting for the last few months returned, stronger than ever, pushing her to do something.
To help Keras.
“A daemon has breached the gates. That is war, brother, and—” She cut herself off when Ares narrowed bright blue eyes on her.
“Our hands are bound, I’m afraid.” He twirled the goblet in his right hand, his face a calm mask, not a single trace of concern touching it. “Hades made it very clear that we are not to interfere. This war has nothing to do with Olympians like us.”
She bit her tongue, hating the way he drew that line between her and Keras. He had never liked her friendship with the firstborn of Hades and Persephone, and he had done everything in his power to force them apart.
And she hated him for it.
Just as she despised herself for letting him succeed.
She should have been stronger. She should have stood up for herself and what she wanted.
She twisted away from him and stared out of the window, desperate to occupy her mind with something else, anything else to stop her from saying something to her brother. Speaking her mind when she was pushed to her limit like this was never wise.
She had done it once, and only once.
Because Ares had locked her in the pitch-black basement of the house for a full lunar cycle and forbidden anyone to go to her, not even to give her food or water.
He had gone to war and when he had returned, she had been starving, out of her mind and weak with hunger. Even immortals like her could starve given enough time. She had been so desperate for food when Ares had unlocked the door that she had promised she would never speak out of turn to him again.
He had patted her head and told her that he would hold her to it, and if she broke her promise, he would destroy what she held most dear.
His cold smile had told her that he knew what that was.
Keras.
“You are quiet,” Ares said and pushed onto his feet, the metal of his boots clunking against the tiles as he crossed the room. More ambrosia flowed into his goblet.
Gods, she would kill for a cup to quieten her nerves.
She was trying to wean herself off it again though.
“We are gods of war, brother,” she murmured, watching two red birds as they flitted over the terracotta rooftops of the sprawl of buildings below her, moving from one tree-shaded courtyard to the next. They joined a flock in one garden and danced in the hot still air, some of them landing on the white statues that stood at the marble edges of many of the rooftops. Lucky carefree birds, able to come and go as they pleased. Free to do as they wished. She watched them from her gilded cage, a pang of envy lancing her heart. “Should we not be a part of this battle?”
He huffed, but his voice was level and calm, as close to tender as he ever got, when he replied, “We are gathering information to give to Hades, and therefore his sons. That is enough.”
It wasn’t enough for her.
She twisted onto her feet and swept her onyx hair back from her face, battling a fierce wave of nerves.
“You seem restless, sister.” Ares planted his backside against the wooden sideboard and crossed his legs at his ankles, his gaze narrowing on her as he studied her closely.
“I think I have stayed inside too long today. I need some air.” She smiled and crushed her nerves, aware he would sense them if she allowed them to keep running rampant. He would know what she was going to do.
As it was, his eyes narrowed further, drilling into her. “I hope you do not intend to leave Olympus.”
She was quick to shake her head, keeping her features schooled as she said, “Not at all. I was going to take a turn in the garden. The lilacs are blooming and you know how much I love them.”
Suspicion glimmered in his blue irises.
She canted her head. “Besides, I believe I hear your aides returning, and I am sure you have many other tasks you wish to discuss with them.”
The twist of his lips and the banked heat that shimmered in his gaze said that he did.
He waved her away. “No further than the garden.”
She dipped her head and swept away from him, past the four females as they bustled into the room, not drawing a single breath until she cleared the tall white columns that supported the roof and broke out onto the grand terrace that overlooked the southern slope of the mountain, a view that stretched all the way to the glittering azure sea.
She paused and focused behind her on Ares, reassuring herself that he was suitably occupied before she hurried to her right. She crossed the patio, dipping her head to the two guards who stood to attention, and reached the olive trees that formed a lush wall between the terrace and the garden.
Enyo followed her favourite path deep into the garden, to a smaller terrace with a pergola covered in lilac blooms. She stopped at the ornate marble balustrade and pressed her palms against it as she stared into the distance, west towards the point near the shore where the gate between Olympus and the Underworld stood.
A gate she had used countless times over the centuries.
A gate she hadn’t passed through for two hundred years.
She ached for those halcyon days, wished with all her heart that she could bring them back again, even when she knew that was impossible. Everything had changed two hundred years ago, and there was no way to put things back to how they had been.
But she could patch them up, and hopefully it would
be enough to set her back on the path she had wanted to take in her life.
She focused and teleported, disappearing in a swirl of white-blue smoke.
Slammed into something solid as she reappeared and sent it toppling forwards.
“Godsdammit,” Marek snarled and jerked his left shoulder backwards, dislodging her. He pivoted to face her, his handsome face etched with darkness that reigned in his earthy eyes too. When he saw it was her, he huffed and shoved his unruly brown hair out of his face. “I really don’t need this.”
Enyo scowled at him. She hadn’t failed to notice that over the last few months, Marek had become increasingly less respectful towards her.
She opened her mouth to pick him up on it and warn him to show her more respect, as she normally did, but snapped it closed when Marek turned his back on her again and bent over.
And she noticed he was packing.
He carefully layered clothes into a suitcase on his double bed, along with some other personal items.
She backed up a step and looked around the spacious main living area of the Spanish villa. His books were gone from the coffee table and there was no sign of his female.
“You are leaving?” she said with a glance at him.
He shut the lid on the suitcase and zipped it closed. “Moving into Tokyo. It was Daimon’s idea. Things are getting… It’s better we’re all in one place together.”
Enyo didn’t like the sound of that. “Esher has returned?”
Marek looked over his shoulder at her and slowly straightened, coming to face her. “No. You know about him?”
She nodded. “Brother told me.”
Before he could ask her something else, such as requesting she leave him alone as he normally did, she continued.
“Ares tells me that we will not be allowed to participate in the coming war. Hades forbids it.”
Marek’s face darkened and he grunted, “Sounds like Father.”
Daimon: Guardians of Hades Series Book 6 Page 13
