Adonis snorted. He'd noticed. "And we should." Didn't mean he liked it any more than his brother did.
"But we won't."
Hurt lacerated him at those words, but he didn't say anything. They had never had a good relationship, ever. Had never been close. But Ariston was his only family still alive, and Adonis had ruined any chance of them ever reconciling. The shame hurt worst of all. "I wouldn't blame you if we didn't."
Ariston stopped in his tracks. "Um, why would you blame me when I'm not the one who was going to pretend to be someone else to break their curse. Do you really think Lily wouldn't have noticed?"
Adonis' shoulders tensed as he faced his brother, who glowered at him from the street corner next to a busy crosswalk. Passersby gave them curious glances and moved along. "Sage didn't notice until after she kissed you, so maybe your upset isn't entirely at me and what I did. Maybe you're angry with yourself for believing that maybe, just maybe, Lily wouldn't have noticed."
His twin's eyes widened, and his face lost all color. Adonis turned and stormed off, guilt eating away at him and twisting his stomach into knots. He should have kept that to himself and never vocalized it, but walking in on Sage after she'd kissed Ariston—the jealousy, the bitter anger he harbored for his own past actions, seeing his brother again who had nothing but disgust for him…
If there was ever a day to pick up a drink again, it was this one. But he'd never lose control of his actions like he had in the past. He'd never willingly give up on things he took for granted—like his common sense, his mind. Adonis would own up for his past and take charge of his future. Nevertheless, he couldn't do that until he came to some sort of truce with his brother. If that never happened, well, he was doomed to an eternity of self-loathing. Good thing he'd gotten used to that already.
Rapid footfalls preceded Ariston clamping his hand down on his shoulder to drag him to a stop. Reluctantly he allowed it. When he faced his twin, Ariston let him go. "That wasn't fair, and you know it. Sage didn't know I was there, but Lily was aware of your presence in the area that night."
"Tell me I'm not right," Adonis challenged.
His brother's lips formed a hard line, and he didn't respond.
"That's what I thought. I'm the easy outlet for your anger, and I deserve it, but stop acting like I was the only one who acted badly in the past." He started down a side street and into a parking garage, wanting this argument to be less public than it already was. People were starting to stare more than before, but here they had some privacy. The parking garage had been closed off for new entries even though the bottom of the lot was mostly empty aside from a group of vans in the middle. No attendants manned the payment booth.
"Adonis, what are you—"
"How many times do I need to apologize?" He whirled around to face him. "I can say I am sorry until I'm blue in the face, until you die an old mortal man who has lived out a fulfilling human life, and you still won't hear it." He combed his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and kicked at a pinecone on the sidewalk. "Enough is enough."
"You cannot possibly expect me to forgive you on the spot." He ran a hand through his hair then waved it about. "Just like that."
Adonis ground his teeth together. "No, I don't. I am asking you to consider it. Stop being an asshole because you feel justified." He waved his arms around at the open space of the garage. "Why are you even here, Ariston? Hmm? You wanted so badly to be human, but here you are in the middle of a Satyroi problem."
Ariston stepped forward and poked a finger at his chest. "I'm still one of you, even though my curse is gone."
"You're an idiot." Adonis would do anything to be rid of the lot of them. None of them gave a damn about him, so why should he care either way about them in return? "What happens if Theron kills you? You're mortal now."
Ariston sniffed indignantly. "I can take Theron."
He laughed. "I can't even take Theron, and I am still harder to kill."
"Gentlemen, you'll both have your chance."
He and Ariston turned as one toward the new arrival. Theron grinned at them as he stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the corner of the stairwell leading to the elevator. He must have been stalking them and followed them in. He was also glamoured, which meant he had Jacen's panpipes on him. If anything, Adonis wanted to wrest those away from him should they come to blows. He needed to keep him away from his brother at all costs. He wouldn't see his twin die because he was foolish enough to come looking for a fight with this sadist.
"For fuck's sake, Theron. Why are you lurking about, jumping Arcadians?" Adonis wasn't in the mood, but maybe a fight would help.
"What are you doing?" Ariston moved closer and whispered, "Don't egg him on." Now he was worried about starting a fight with the Boeotians? Unbelievable.
Theron pushed away from the wall, dressed in jeans and a red Henley. His brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and that crooked nose that had been broken too many times before his immortality begged for a new break. Adonis would be happy to oblige.
"I was looking for Calix. You see, without Dion around to keep him alive, I finally get my vengeance." He cracked his knuckles. "Jacen was supposed to draw him out of that little hole you lot like to hide in. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like Calix has come running home yet, which means I can't be bothered with the likes of you."
"If that were true, you wouldn't still be in town bothering to taunt us."
"Adonis," Ariston snapped. "Enough."
"Yeah, Adonis," Theron mocked, crossing the street toward them. Adonis edged himself subtly between his brother and the other Boeotian. "Enough. By the way, I heard the Arcadians didn't bother to tell you they had found some miracle pill or even so much as give you a set of panpipes—though it seems you found some now. As I have. Good for you."
God, Theron was a dick. Always had been. "Why do you care?"
"You could join my group, and we'd have your back. The Arcadians don't want you around. We do."
Bullshit. Adonis wasn't stupid enough to fall for that lie. He glanced back at Ariston to see if his brother thought he would be tempted. Ariston looked pissed as hell, but it was hard to say what about, if not all of it.
"I'll pass," he said as he faced Theron once more. The smile faltered on his face as though he honestly didn't think Adonis would turn him down. "But you won't be leaving here with Jacen's panpipes."
"If you want them, try to take them."
"Fuck," Ariston muttered under his breath as Adonis charged at Theron.
Chrys followed the river as directed but started to question everything. What had she said—wait until he heard roars? What if he'd already gone too far? The only things he'd heard along the way were flowing water, bugs, and the occasional squawks of birds or some other small animal. The dense trees on either side of the river formed a veritable wall of green in any direction he turned.
He stopped, not for the first time since he had begun his trek toward the river, to contemplate if he was too eager for whatever altercation awaited with Destroyer or if he'd been too gullible too easily. Myrine could have told him what he wanted to hear, to get him far away from the fight without further complaint. Was she laughing at him, even now, as she faced off against the beast without his help?
"Get ahold of yourself," he mumbled under his breath and put his hands on his hips before bending slightly backward and forward to stretch his sore back. That hole in the ground hadn't been great for sleeping. He might heal faster than a mortal, but a bad night's sleep would stick with a man.
Abruptly, a bellowing roar rang out like the heaviest of thunderclaps as if lightning had struck mere inches away. That had to be Destroyer. The dragon was nearby, and so—his blood quickened—was the Amazon queen who occupied too many of his thoughts.
Chrys tore off in the direction the sound had come from. Another roar shook the ground. How big had the thing gotten in a matter of a few months?
Dumb question. This was a monster born of a Titan
and an Olympian. For all Chrys knew, it had sprung out of a severed thumb fully grown or some nightmarish shit like that. It wouldn't surprise him in the least.
Birds screamed and flew through the canopy to the safety of the sky above. Other animals ran past him, barely sparing him a moment of concern. A jaguar, sleek with its spotted tawny pelt bounded from the path ahead, giving him barely enough time to move aside as the deadly cat sought safety.
Chrys' heart beat at a frantic pace. He must be close. As he ran through the mud and into the sturdier ground of the jungle itself, covered overgrowth, and plants he had no idea if he could positively identify, all he knew was that he was almost there.
Perhaps he missed the thrill of the old days when warriors were at war more than they were home. When the old gods were still feared and worshiped. When satyrs were not considered a fantastical myth. Before the divide of Boeotian and Arcadian satyrs.
Before the curse.
"Chrysander."
The sudden use of his name in a voice he never thought he'd hear again nearly tripped him over his own feet. What the fuck?
Gathering his wits and slowing to a halt, Chrys turned in the direction of the voice. Surely it had been his imagination. It would have to have been…because Dionysus had died. Murdered by his coconspirators in a plot to release the Titans and usurp Olympus, and whatever other mad powerplays he had been scheming.
Yet…the wine god was right there in front of him, Boeotian horns proudly on display, dressed in white robes that hid his hooves, and holding a chalice of what Chrys could only assume was wine, given the god in question. "How?" There really wasn't a better question at the moment, and he didn't have time for whatever this was. Myrine needed him…
Or maybe you only wish she did.
Dionysus waved a hand as though the why held no consequence—except it did. "Nevermind all of that. What is important is what you do with my company."
"Your…shit, I didn't even want—"
"Chrysander, I asked for them to pick you. I knew of all my remaining Boeotians, you would be the one to see the company ran well. That you'd run it with the heart and goodwill it should have been overseen with the first time around."
Heat infused his cheeks. He had to confess. Chrys couldn't in good faith keep his secret after that kind of praise. Truth be told, he would have cracked eventually if things had continued the way they had. He'd very nearly attempted to rescue Calix himself even though he would have lost his thyrsus doing so, and probably both their lives if Theron had caught them. "You should probably know I was spying for Hermes for some time now."
The god nodded and took a sip of wine. When he finished, he lowered the chalice and licked his lips clean. "Since Melancton left, yes. I know."
"Wait, you did?" Chrys blinked, his shoulders loosening up from the tension he hadn't even noticed knotting up there.
Dionysus took a drink from his cup and nodded. "Well, after I died. My rebirth, my second rebirth that is, brought with it a startling clarity." He moved closer to Chrys, who barely refrained from backing up a step. This was by far the last thing he expected to find in the jungle.
Had he said rebirth? He rubbed his forehead as he took in that information. Of course, everyone knew the Titan queen, Rhea, had resurrected Dionysus after Hera had him murdered. That was one of the truths that made it into mythology books. "But Rhea is still imprisoned with the rest of the Titans."
Dionysus smiled slyly and took another sip of his wine. "A new era of gods is on the horizon, Chrysander. It's been long past time. The Olympians squandered away their reign on earth, hiding from mortals. I know now that I shouldn't have been wasting my time on breaking certain curses and getting back at Zeus. No." He leaned in closer as though to tell him a secret. "I hold the key to the next age of gods and heroes in my very blood."
The last time Dionysus had pierced a vein and given ambrosia to anyone, he'd created the maenads. Those women, meant to be female companions in immortality for the Satyroi, had turned into murderous wackos, and all of them had been destroyed. Including the love of Theron's life—by Calix's hand. It was the source of their rivalry, and without a doubt marked the moment Theron lost whatever traces were left of his humanity. It was a matter of debate how humane he was prior since he'd never been a morally good man.
Nevertheless, if Dionysus thought his blood was the key…crazy as that was… "Last time…" he started but was interrupted by another roar. Shit, he had to get to that fight. Chrys looked over his shoulder in the direction it had come from. What should he do?
"Last time I was an Olympian. Now, I'm something…more. Something new."
Well, that was ominous as hell. And this was the wrong time to dig for those answers. "I mean no disrespect, but I have to go." He gestured in the direction he'd been headed. "Big dragon. Amazon queen leading an army of vrykolakas. It's a whole thing."
A mocking grin tipped the corner of the god's lips. "You won't win against him. Not yet."
The fuck he wouldn't. "Uh, are you clairvoyant now?" If so, that was definitely new.
"Hardly." Dionysus laughed. "But I had a dream about the Fates. That dragon is only beginning its destruction. If it goes unchecked, he will lay waste to any and all who dare to challenge him. He's already grown to full adulthood in a few short months. You need a specific weapon to kill it, forged by a specific blacksmith."
Because, naturally, killing a dragon wouldn't be simple when the gods were involved in making it. Echidna's children were often damn near unkillable monsters. "Hephaestus?"
Dionysus nodded. "I have him working on the weapon now. However, it will take a year to complete."
"A year!"
"It's very specific."
Ugh. Either Dionysus was pulling his chain or this was all some weird fever dream and Chrys was back in the hole in the ground, asleep. "Whatever. I need to go." Was that smoke he smelled? He sniffed the air. Something was burning.
"Of course, of course. Go impress the beautiful warrior queen, but when next you see Destroyer after this, a quest will be delivered unto you. Either you can take the work yourself, or pick a satyr to do so in your stead."
Bizarre, but who was he to judge? "Why a satyr?"
"It must be a satyr." He rubbed his cleft chin. "That's very important."
"Right…" Chrysander had dallied far too long. "And why should I believe you?"
"Because…" Dionysus waved a hand in front of him, summing a thyrsus that was the length of a staff, with a pinecone shaped ornament at the top and carved vines that wrapped around the length. His old one had been the size of a scepter. This one was almost as tall as he was. "I'm more powerful than I ever was, and the satyr that slays that dragon will become a god in my new pantheon, such as the way of heroes of old."
Chrys busted out laughing. "Oh, wait, you're for real."
Dionysus rolled his eyes and flashed away without another comment. That was the strangest conversation he could have had at the absolute worst time ever. As though to accentuate how poorly timed it was, another roar shook the trees and ground around him. Chrys ran in its direction, trying to push Dionysus' offer from his head.
Even if he wanted a godhood, which he didn't, immortality sucked. And he didn't have any aspiration of becoming a god in Dionysus' new pantheon, whatever that was going to be. If Zeus knew, he'd have twenty-five-hundred cows about it. Oh, Hades down in the Underworld, Zeus couldn't possibly know about it yet.
Should he tell Pan and send that information to him? Gods, why put him in this situation?
He broke through the trees and into a hellscape. The ground was scorched and vrykolakas zipped back and too quicker than he could fully process until they stopped for a few moments to assess their target. Destroyer roared at them from the sky, flying over where he'd burned through the canopy of trees. Spears were thrown but couldn't quite reach him. The dragon was black as pitch, with leathery wings. His tail whipped around in fury as he spotted Chrys entering the clearing.
"Satyr!
" the voice boomed in his head. "You will pay for my mother's life in your blood."
Well, shit.
16
Adonis lunged at Theron while Ariston unleashed a long string of profanity that would make a sailor blush. "Go back and tell the others I have him," he ordered as he and Theron hit the ground hard and proceeded struggling to pin the other down. The bastard was a lot stronger than he looked. Apparently, pure aggression and being a sick fuck had fueled his strength.
"We don't know where the other two are," Ariston countered and attempted to pull Theron off him as he wrapped his hands around Adonis' throat.
Theron punched Ariston square in the face, giving Adonis a chance to take in a wheezing breath. Ariston then released him, stepping back to touch a hand to his jaw. Blood welled at the corner of his mouth. The Boeotian cackled and said, "Maron and Elek aren't the ones you should be worried about. Hell, I'm not the one you should be worried about right now."
Adonis kneed him in the gut and clocked him in the nose. Something crunched, which satisfied him almost as much as the grimace on the other satyr's face. "Fuck you, Theron. We aren't going to listen to your little mind games."
"I'm dead serious, you dumbass." Theron reared back and then slammed his forehead into Adonis'. With a groan, he stumbled, and Theron staggered to his feet, holding his nose. He glared at Ariston when he took a step toward him and his brother stayed planted firmly. "You should listen to your brother and run off to tell the others, Ariston. Wouldn't want to die now that you're a mortal. Not that it will matter if the lot of you don't back off and hand over Calix."
"Calix isn't even here, which you have got to be aware of by now." Ariston shook his head. "Even you aren't that stupid as to think he's here and not looking for you." Much to Adonis' shock, his brother held out a hand to him to help him up. Adonis stared at the hand like it might leap off his arm and attack him. Warily, he took it and his brother pulled him to his feet.
All Hallows' Satyr (The Cursed Satyroi Book 5) Page 14
