by Donn, KL
Staying behind to provide backup when needed is what I must concentrate on now. This time, however, I have the urge to be in the field. To have boots on the ground. Which is exactly why I can’t. My tie to Arianna makes me a risk that could be detrimental to us all.
I’ve never been able to mask my emotions with the same cool precision as Ares, and there’s no doubt in my mind I’d give us away. We’d all wind up dead.
Needing to be productive, I seek out Callista. Arianna swears the woman is the only friend she has, so it’s possible she might have a link to the princess. With this magic running through their veins, I have high hopes.
“Mr. McCall, can I help you with something?” Hawk asks me as I enter the main foyer. I’m not sure what it is about him, but he gives me the creeps.
“I’m looking for the mage,” I tell him pointedly as I pull out my phone, intending to look into him more.
“Check the gardens.” He dismisses me before the words are out of his mouth.
“Friendly bunch around here,” I mutter as I head to the back of the castle where Arianna was able to make her escape.
As I walk through the hall, I notice the paintings lining one side. They present all previous Kings of Graeline, dating back to the twelfth century, where a portrait of the first king posing with the King of England, Henry the first, sits in the center of the wall. A scroll detailing the history of the land Graeline sits on is encased beside the historical image.
Before it became its own island, Scotland and Ireland fought for decades over ownership, killing thousands of its own people and soldiers in the carnage. It wasn’t until England stepped in that a decision was forced to be made, and with great reluctance, Graeline was born and a king chosen.
From there, the kingdom became a refuge for people outcast by their own communities or countries. The tortured found solace in the healing Catalina Valley until the dark mage took control of the soothing land. Nothing outlines how magic came to be here, though.
Requiring more answers, I exit the doors off the hallway into the garden, and for such a dreary fucking day, the sun is high in the sky, bright, shining like a beacon of hope. I walk along the cobblestoned path lined with dwarf rose bushes, blooming in the prime of their life until I hear whispering behind a wall of thorns.
“Mage,” I call out. Whether I believe in the magic or not doesn’t matter because I’d rather not risk my life by having her cast some fucking spell on me.
I notice a pause in her quiet mumbling, but she doesn’t answer me. Stepping into her line of sight, I find Callista on her knees on the grass, sage and ivory spread around her as her face is upturned to the sky.
Unable to understand what she’s saying, I wait patiently for her to finish. What happens next is beyond my scope of belief, though. The once light sky begins to darken marginally as she slowly reaches a hand out for me to grasp.
Powerless to stop the movement of my arm, the coolness of her flesh penetrates my skin, and I’m brought to my knees in front of her as visions of chains and brick walls flash before my eyes. Deafening screams burst in my ears, and before I can take a breath, it’s over.
Ripping away from her grasp, I’m breathless as my mind fogs over with what I saw, or think I saw. The pain reverberating across my back has me reaching back to feel for the cause of it.
“What the fuck was that?” I hiss.
She doesn’t move.
“Mage!” I holler at her.
When she lowers her face and opens her eyes, they’re completely white, and I can see shadows moving across like smoke again.
“Whatever you believe, whatever Ares believes, it’s ten times worse.” Her voice is huskier than normal, like she’s been possessed.
Confused, I have no damn clue how to process this shit. “What the fuck does that mean? What is happening?”
“Judas is more…worse…Hades has risen.”
“Hades is folklore,” I snap.
“And yet, you, Apollo, bring an honesty to the world no one else possesses. Ares brings war and mayhem. You can both kill with the same precision as the God of the Underworld.” She’s back to staring up at the sky.
“Fuck,” I hiss, moving to sit in front of her. Something is happening, and for Arianna's—and now Ares'—safety, I can’t ignore what my gut is screaming at me to pay attention to. “Tell me everything,” I demand.
6
Ares
“Matthew ‘Ares’ Norbury, mate, good to meet you. I’ve heard some less than pleasing things about you these past few months, and I’ve been wondering if I’d ever get to meet the man who slaughtered a village and got away with it.” Schooling my features as Judas Willows approaches me when I step out of the cab in Dublin, it takes all my willpower not to plant my fist in his condescending face.
“Don’t believe everything you hear.” I smirk. Maintaining the truth to the rumors about my demise in the underworld has worked in my favor. My reputation counts on it. As far as the world is concerned, I work where the money takes me, and that’s precisely how I need it now.
“So, I’m told.” His beady brown eyes travel the length of my body, likely wondering if I’m carrying, so I open my jacket to show him both my weapons. A Wilson Combat pistol at my waist and my survival knife from my days in the military on my opposite hip. I don’t go anywhere without either on my person at all times. Now is no different.
I can tell by the look on his face, he doesn’t like that I didn’t follow his rule of no weapons when we meet. Frankly, I don’t give two shits. If I show him that I’m just like any of his other lackeys, then what the hell does he need me for?
“You don’t follow the rules.” I raise my brow at the obvious. His gaze narrows. “I need to know I can trust you. Even if you do come highly recommended from that fellow in Argentina.”
That fellow was forced to make the call from a six by six cell in Leavenworth.
“And I can walk away.” Turning on my heel, I raise my hand to wave down a passing cab when a grasp on my arm stops me.
“Get in the car. I like your attitude.” Judas precedes me into his limo, and I follow suit after one of his men takes my duffle bag and tosses it in the trunk. “Tell me, Ares, why the God of War?”
Judas grabs a decanter of amber liquid from the sidebar and two glasses until I shake my head. If anything goes into my body, I won’t be accepting it from this man. I don’t trust that he won’t try to poison or knock me out.
“Because it’s what I’m good at,” I tell him honestly. I can end battles faster than any man I’ve ever known, or I can start them. Typically, people don’t like that because the body count is higher than they’re prepared for.
His burst of laughter is unexpected as he slaps a hand down on his leg and tosses back his drink. “I like you, Ares.” Turning serious, his mood changes. “Betray me, and I’ll slit your throat. Deadly reputation or not.”
I nod once. No point in telling him I could have killed him and his team in seconds after I exited the cab. For now, I need him to trust me.
“I heard a rumor about a princess being taken, that you?” He shrugs a shoulder, so I let it go. If I push too hard, he’ll get suspicious and either kill her or sell her. I have to bide my time until I can learn of her location or set it up so Apollo can purchase her.
As we drive further out of the city, I’m unsurprised to be brought to what looks like an abandoned castle, but the high walls and iron gates that open as we approach tell another tale.
A dozen or more cars are parked along the driveway, and the lights are bright. “Is there a sale tonight?”
“So many questions,” Judas observes.
“You hired me for security.” I allow my eyes to scan each vehicle until we roll to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. “Can’t do my job if I don’t have answers.”
“Fair enough,” he responds as his door opens. Exiting the car, I get a better feel for the property and catch weak spots throughout the wall where we can get away should we nee
d it. “You’ll be observing this evening. Watch, don’t act. You might learn a thing or two.”
His cocky fucking attitude is going to be the reason I remove his head from his fucking body when this is over.
“You got it, boss.” I barely control giving him the salute I’m dying to because I can’t piss him off on the first night.
Entering the castle, I’m taken aback at the shadowy atmosphere. With the sale of humans, you usually want illumination. The brighter, the better in my hellish experience.
This…is different. There’s something more going on here, and the agonized moans I hear coming from the middle of the room, behind two closed doors, tell their own tale.
In the center of what used to be a dining room is a big-screen television with spectators quietly placing bets as a woman is whipped on the screen. It’s not until a man walks forward with a knife in his hand that I see who is involved in the scene, or what she’s doing.
“Don’t you touch her,” the girl snaps, defiance in every line of her body. Swollen lips. Sliced body. Blood everywhere. She’s barely able to stand.
Arianna is far more than a princess.
She’s a captive.
Tortured.
Imprisoned in a hell far worse than we imagined.
Arianna
My voice croaks as I continue to plead with our captors to leave Ainsley alone. I’ve spent so much time screaming and begging, pulling on the chains binding my wrist, that I taste, smell, and feel blood everywhere. The agony with every lash of his whip across the young girl’s back is like a lash across my own.
I feel it. I feel her. All the horrors she’s been experiencing these past few days have somehow bound themselves to my soul, and I battle for each breath.
“Let. Her. Go,” I growl. I can’t allow this to continue, and yet, I’m powerless to stop it. If only I could garner enough of the abusers’ anger towards myself, they just might forget about the innocent child at their mercy now.
“You want to play, princess?” The balding man prowls closer, a sort of swagger in his step as he stops in front of me, caressing the side of my face with the leather bullwhip. I force the urge to cringe away and stand firm.
Swaying closer to him, I sneer, “You couldn’t handle me if you tried.” Challenge immediately enters his eyes, and even though I know I’m about to be pushed past my breaking point, begging for pain, I wouldn’t change it for the world as I see them release Ainsley. She scurries to the wall as I feel the relief in my restraints and catch myself from falling to the ground by sheer will alone.
This won’t be my first beating. Not even my second. But I know it will be the most excruciating. This man, whoever he is, is aroused far more than any other I’ve seen come through here. He holds a precise skill with each crack of the whip, and I shudder to think of the ways he’s about to break me.
“Are you ready, princess?” The pungent stench of his breath as he whispers the words against my lips causes me to gag and him to step back. “You’ll pay for that.”
His growled words are all I hear as the stinging torment of the whip slashes down on my back. Darkness engulfs the strikes as each one comes harsher, heavier, agonizingly more painful, and soon, I welcome unconsciousness.
7
Asher
After receiving a quick text from Ares the previous night, I’m sitting in this damn garden where I had my last connection with Arianna, waiting on his next call.
He asked me to look further into Judas Willows’ past and what other connections he has in the underworld. I’m missing critical information, and that doesn’t work for me. Waiting for this call is like torture.
“You need to calm your aura, Apollo,” I hear Callista say as she wanders up behind me.
“My aura?” I scoff. Even after what happened yesterday, I’m still skeptical about the woo-woo shit she’s preaching. I’m a see it to believe it kind of guy, and one unexplained phenomenon does not a believer make.
“You’re surrounded with darkness.” She saunters around the area where I’m seated, waving her arms and chanting under her breath.
“What are you doing?” I don’t know if I trust this woman yet, and for all I know, she’s putting a curse on me.
“I’m giving the gods guidance on keeping you safe for when you leave.”
“Who said I’m going anywhere?” Jesus, this woman.
“Arianna needs you every bit as much as she does Ares. It’s your combined strength that will awaken her power. Without the two of you, she’s helpless. So, too, will her people be.”
Before I can answer her, my phone rings in my hand, with Ares’ name flashing across the screen. “Talk to me, Ares.”
“This son of a bitch.” His breathing is heavy, and I can feel his rage through the line.
“What?” I hiss as the mage continues her ritual around me.
“He’s not fucking selling the people of Graeline, Ash.” His frustration is palpable.
Confused, I barely get out, “What’s he doing then?” before he’s answering me.
“People are paying him to torture these women.”
Stunned, I don’t know how to respond. Even Callista stops, shock on her face.
“I fucking…” he pauses. “I had to fucking watch as they whipped Arianna. Blood, so much fucking blood.” Never in our nearly fifteen-year friendship have I heard this man so affected by anything. Let alone someone else’s blood.
“How do we get to her?” I ask, now understanding what Callista was saying. Learning that this mission has turned into a blood sport, gives me an in too. Just not one I’m going to like.
I won’t be posing as a buyer to purchase a forbidden princess. I’ll be posing as a sadist looking to break a girl for fun. To relish in her cries of agony and enjoy the flow of her blood across whatever weapon I choose.
“I’m on my way.” I hang up from Ares before he can respond, and Callista follows behind me, still chanting before placing a small black bag in my hand.
“When you get to her, when you find her, she will be a broken mess. Far more than you’ve ever seen before. Wet this, place it on her chest, both of you must be there. A kiss and your strength will give her everything she needs to grow strong enough to leave that place.”
Staring at the black silk bag in my hand, I want to ask what’s in it, but I don’t have time to figure out the labyrinth of her words.
“Trust your instincts, Mr. McCall, and they’ll show you the way.” Shit. “And don’t forget the kiss!”
Arianna
I’m unable to calculate how much time has passed. It could be hours, days, weeks, months, and I’d be none the wiser. All I comprehend is pain.
Crippling fear.
Defeat.
My strength only lasted so long before I caved to their will. I swore I wouldn’t beg for mercy. My intent had been to remain tough. To be the leader that the girls from my home needed. Instead, I failed.
I faltered.
And I tumbled into perdition.
Forced to watch as they broke Ainsley after I succumbed to the darkness, ripped her flesh apart, laughed at her silent tears. I realized this set-up was about so much more than human trafficking. I’m chained to the same wall in the room we tried to flee, and I haven’t been allowed a moment’s reprieve since.
I’ve faked exhaustion to listen to them speak, and what I’ve heard is chilling. Worse than I’d ever imagined and likely more than Apollo or Ares is ready to handle.
These men, they’re here for pleasure. They pay to hurt others and place bets on when a woman or child will submit to their will or perish. For someone who hails from a land filled with mysticism, I’ve never seen such malevolence.
The pure joy on their faces, the soullessness in their eyes as they bring down whips and chains, slice flesh with knives, break bones with accuracy and precision, has made me ill more than once or twice.
Rattling from a nearby doorway has my head lifting to identify who is coming and who I will watch
fall next because of my weakness. My limitations opened a portal for these men to assault anyone they now see fit.
I hear footsteps as my head drops against my chest, unable to hold it up. I feel the breeze from the opened door drift across the exposed flesh from tattered clothes. Blood still slowly drips down my body as the sounds of life come closer.
“This is her,” a recognizable voice says, a triumphant sneer in his tone. He broke me. He made me bleed and beg for my life.
Only after he stripped me of my humanity and dignity.
A hand lifts my chin, and my vision blurs from the movement as fingers dig into my jaw, turning me from left to right as they examine my bruised face.
“Pretty hair,” a new voice comments.
A voice I know.
Almost intimately.
Trying to shake the fog from my brain, I blink rapidly as my eyes strain to focus on the man standing in front of me. Jet black hair, a chiseled jaw, eyes so midnight blue they nearly look black, and strength that rolls off of him in waves and invades my soul as our gazes clash.
Ares.
He came for me. My eyelids droop closed as tears surface. I must fight not to let them free as my chest rattles. Pain flows through my body with the same ease as the blood in my veins.
“You broke her?” Ares asks the man.
“With pleasure.” Pride flows through the bastard’s voice.
I can feel the menace in the way Ares strokes my cheek with his thumb. While his hold is rough, painful even, I can feel the tenderness with which he wishes to touch me.
“I paid a handsome price for the princess.” Ice lashes his words, and even without knowing all about Ares, I know things are about to turn deadly.
“This was after I had my fun with her. She’s a formidable one. You’ll enjoy her immensely once she’s healed.” Realizing that they planned to put me through the torture again once my body had regained strength makes me sick, and my stomach heaves.
