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  "Don't you already?" I asked her.

  "No. I think you are worthy of the power you wield. But you are weak. You have no idea what you're doing."

  I didn't answer. It wasn't like she was saying anything I didn't already know.

  "Athena has offered to train with you, while you're here," Tisiphone said.

  "Why?"

  "Because you cannot afford to get complacent. I will teach you humility, Fury," Athena said.

  I nodded. "Fine. Is there anything any of you can tell me about the gateway that would help me create a new one?" I asked, turning to my mother and aunts.

  Tisiphone shrugged. "To be honest with you, we never really thought about the gateways themselves much. They were there, and we used them. The only thing I know is that they were impossible to detect from your side, unless one belonged in the Nether or Aether. It kept mortals from wandering into our world, and kept the demons and other creatures out of your realm, once we enhanced them to only allow gods through."

  "Who was responsible for strengthening it?" I asked her.

  She grimaced. "Hermes. Which is how the demons apparently started getting through anyway."

  "Why Hermes?"

  "Because of his ability to travel the realms with no loss of power, he was uniquely suited to working on the gateway from both sides, strengthening it. And then it was up to us and the guard demons to be the last line of defense. Of course, he didn't bother telling us that he would make sure to weaken it behind our backs so his demon servants could cause chaos in your world, trying to take you."

  I sighed. "Great. None of you considered confronting Hermes about his sucky defenses when demons started going through?" I asked, irritated.

  Megaera looked embarrassed. "We never considered one of our own. This entire situation has reminded us that there are plenty of cancers among us. I don't think any of us will look at other gods the same way again."

  "We are just as petty as the mortals," Athena said, agreeing.

  "I think some of you are getting bored," I said.

  Tisiphone was watching me. "You're probably not far off in that regard, daughter," she said.

  "Well," Athena said, "I can assure you that I am growing bored. Are we going to train or stand around gossiping?"

  "What, now?"

  "Yes. Now," she said, taking off her leather jacket. She wore a sleeveless top underneath it, showing off her muscular arms.

  "So?"

  "Let's spar. I'd like to see what you've learned up to this point."

  I nodded, barely had time to prepare myself before she launched herself at me, a full assault complete with punches aimed at my face, kicks aimed for my stomach, knees. I managed to duck her punch, mostly out of pure panic, and she barely missed my stomach, but caught my hip with a kick that felt like it would have gone straight through the soft flesh of my gut had I not flinched aside.

  She punched out at me again, and I ducked.

  Okay. This bitch was crazy.

  "Child," she sneered. "Learn to focus. It shouldn't be that easy to surprise you." And then she kicked out again and I grabbed her foot, flipped her down onto her back, and she landed with an "oof." I knew better than to revel in that small victory; Brennan had taught me better than that. I readied myself for her attack, and it came quicker than I could have expected. She jumped up, at me, elbow to my throat. This time, she connected, and I bent double, unable to breathe around the bruising of my windpipe. She used that to her advantage, brought her knee up, smashing my nose with a sickening sound. I felt bones shatter, blood pouring from my nose and mouth. I fell, and she kicked me in the side, then pulled my hair, made me look up at her.

  "You just lost. And I haven't even worked up a sweat," she hissed. "You need to be better, Fury."

  Then she let go of my hair, and my head fell onto the dirt. I still couldn't catch my breath. "Once you've stopped writhing around like some kind of worm, we'll continue," she said.

  This was probably the point where a normal mother would have stepped in on her child's behalf, urged a break or something. Or, you know, kicked the ass of the one who'd just made her daughter bleed. My mother offered Athena a cup of tea instead, and they sat there talking quietly while my body repaired itself and I got my breathing back to normal.

  You know what I could do without? Feeling the bones in my face knit themselves together again. Shards of broken bone shifting beneath my skin, moving like sharp little maggots as they reformed my cheekbone.

  I've never said that self-healing wasn't a disgusting process. It's just really, really useful.

  I sat up once I felt able to, watched blearily as the goddesses drank their tea.

  I put my elbows on my knees, breathed.

  "Ready to go again?" Athena asked me, and I nodded, stood up.

  She approached me, looked me over. "You're small. Rather on the scrawny side, really."

  "Thanks."

  "Your strength lies in using that to your advantage. Any time you hit something, as you know, you cause more damage than someone of your stature usually would, because your powers allow you to hit harder than a mortal would be able to."

  I nodded.

  "But other immortals have that same advantage, as I've just demonstrated for you." She made a motion as if she was going to punch me, and I readied myself to block it.

  "I'm not going to hit you this time. Watch." And she extended her arm, to just before she would have hit me. "Look at where our bodies are. Look at my reach in relation to you. Look at how many vulnerable areas I leave open to you when I raise my hand against you. Ribs, breasts, underarms. A punch to any of them will hurt enough to throw an attacker off. A stab, and you're on your way to victory. If you're able to recognize these weaknesses, take advantage of them, you'll be far ahead of most opponents. It's not all about chopping heads off all the time."

  "It's fun to chop heads off, sometimes," I said, studying her body, trying to see what she was showing me.

  "Of course it is. Quite satisfying at times, really. But you need to focus on reducing the threat against you, weakening your opponent before you go for the kill. Keep them off-balance. Keep them on the defensive. That is your job." Her silvery eyes met mine. "Discipline, Fury. You need to learn it. Focus."

  I nodded.

  "Again."

  We fought. I lasted longer the second time before Athena totally destroyed me. I recovered, and we did it again. After the fourth time getting my ass kicked, I stayed down, spitting up blood. "That was better. You're still fighting stupid, though," Athena said as she sat on the ground next to me. I hadn't even messed up her hair.

  My mother came and sat with us, and I picked myself up, wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt. There was already blood all over it, anyway.

  "Great," I said. It still hurt to talk. She'd broken my jaw with that last punch. I'd thought Nain was brutal when he fought me. He was a puppy compared to Athena.

  "Daughter," Tisiphone said, and I glanced up at her. "You need to focus during these sessions."

  "I need to get home. This is doing nothing to get me there."

  "And when you do get there? What are you going to do? Have you even thought to ask about the gods you've trapped in your realm?" Athena asked, annoyed.

  "Who? Cithaeron? I knew about him."

  Athena gave a disdainful laugh. "You are clueless."

  "Then why don't you enlighten me," I said. Yes, I was aware she could easily kick my ass for my rudeness. Old habits die hard. Then I looked at my mother. "Who did I trap there?"

  She took a breath. "A few minor beings who won't do much more than annoy people."

  "Except for the two who will do much, much worse than just annoy the mortals," Athena said.

  "Who?" I asked, my stomach turning.

  "You've heard of the spirit daemons, yes?" Tisiphone asked, and I shook my head. She sighed. "Your education has been sorely lacking."

  "Sorry," I said in irritation.

  "No, it's my fault. Your father and
I should have been teaching you once you started visiting the Nether." She paused. "The spirit daemons are kind of a step between gods and mortals. They are powerful in their own right. They are what we consider lesser gods. Not as powerful as us, maybe, but unique in their power. Each of the spirit daemons feeds and feeds off of mortal emotions or qualities. So we have spirit daemons such as Aidos, the spirit daemon of respect and modesty, or Nomos, the spirit of law and order. But the flip side of that is that we also have malignant spirit daemons. They tend not to do damage themselves, because they don't need to. They whisper, influence the mortals to act in accordance, and the results strengthen the daemons. And the stronger they get, the more influence they have."

  "Shit. I'm guessing I didn't trap the spirit of happiness and rainbows in my realm," I said.

  "No. When you killed Enyo, two of the spirit daemons who were close to her decided to go to your realm, lie there in wait for you, and get revenge on you for her death. We learned this from two of the Guardians we caught," Tisiphone said.

  "Who?"

  "Eris, the goddess of strife and discord. And Deimos, the spirit of terror."

  "Lovely," I groaned. "I need to get home. Now. Has Hades set up that meeting with Zeus yet?" I asked my mother.

  "He is trying. He's waiting for an opportunity. Ares refuses to leave Zeus' side, and with him there, any attempt at discussion or peace is hopeless," she said. "Artemis has tried arranging for a meeting as well, but he seems even angrier with her. He views the Aether gods who have joined us as traitors."

  "Which we are not," Athena said. "He forgets that we are all gods and that he doesn't automatically deserve our support. Especially when he's behaving like an ass."

  I stared straight ahead. I'd never even considered what could be trapped there, with the people I loved, weighing heavily on my mind. My stomach twisted when I thought of the chaos and destruction those two spirit daemons could be causing.

  I excused myself after a while and started walking back toward Hades' palace, the revelation that I'd trapped ruthless beings who also (of course) had grudges against me in my realm, with those I loved. I had to find a way to get home. I was thinking that maybe I could appeal directly to Zeus. I'd have to try to be polite, which was always hard.

  I was so lost in thought that I didn’t register the power signature nearby until it was right on top of me.

  I turned just in time to see Ares.

  "Hello, Mollis," he growled.

  And before I could react, his sword swept across my neck, and the world went black.

  Chapter Six

  I woke, emerging from the darkness slowly.

  The first thing I remembered was my name. Then, more. A smiling man with a blond beard and slate blue eyes. Lost girls, criminals, vampires, demons. Love, loss.

  Gods.

  Nether.

  It all rushed back to me, nearly suffocating in its intensity. My life.

  A lingering ache in my neck shook my groggy mind awake, and I opened my eyes in a panic.

  I was chained to a rough stone wall in a dark room. I was weak. It had taken all of my power to come back again.

  And that wasn’t even the worst of it.

  Ares sat in a comfortable-looking leather chair, not five feet from me. His elbow was on his knee, his chin propped in his hand, and he watched me avidly.

  "That was different," he said. "You remind me of a hydra. Very unsettling, seeing something you beheaded start growing a new one before your eyes. There I was, dragging your body into the forest to bury you, and you started regenerating. It was a disgusting process to watch, really."

  I stayed silent. Tried to assess the room. Ares. Son of a bitch. A sword lay across his lap, still coated with my blood. I tried to move my body. Nothing. I was conscious, but nothing below my neck was in working order yet. My powers were practically non-existent; all of my energy had gone to re-building my body. Again.

  I tried not to freak out too much about that. Twice dead, now.

  I'd think about it later. I had to get myself free. Something about living the life I'd lived ensured that I'd never been the type to hope that a knight in shining armor would come riding in to save me. There was one thing I knew for sure, and I'd known it for a very long time.

  I wouldn't be saved unless I saved myself.

  I still couldn't move. I was useless at the moment, so weak that even the simple act of opening my eyes and looking around had made me dizzy.

  "Takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?" Ares asked in a mockingly sympathetic voice. I didn’t answer. Tried to think. Manacles at my ankles and wrists. Fire, maybe, though I had the feeling melting them would be nearly impossible. I could try to just smash my way out of them. I was good at that, if I built up enough power.

  I couldn’t believe I’d stumbled right into this. Damn it.

  He was still sitting there, watching me.

  "You’re trying to figure out how to get out, aren’t you?" he asked, humor in his voice. "Weak as a baby, and you’re thinking about escaping the God of War himself. Little fool. I’ve killed more beings than you can even comprehend. I've inspired untold numbers to do the same to their enemies. But you… you are going to be especially satisfying."

  I felt a flicker of my power returning, tried to stay calm to give it a chance to build.

  He watched me a while longer. "Did you feel anything when you killed my sister?" he asked, and his voice was deceptively soft, deceivingly gentle. Beneath it lurked more than a trace of malice. A taunt.

  "Probably nothing different than Enyo would have felt if she'd gotten me first," I said, my throat raw, dry, still aching. I guess having a blade sever it would do that.

  "Am I supposed to have mercy because it was self-defense? You should not even be. Were you not an abomination, my sister would still be alive, no matter how grievously you injured her. And you," he said, the volume of his voice rising in his anger, "are supposed to be a mortal. So why. Aren’t. You. Dead?" He roared the last word, and I looked at him, not wanting to admit that I wondered the same thing.

  "Let’s see if you can come back again, shall we?" he asked. And then he stalked toward me, sword raised, and I felt the blade pierce my chest, scraping past my rib bones, driving into my heart. He pushed, harder, until the sword was stuck into the stone wall behind me. The last thing I saw was his face, a mask of rage, before my body convulsed one last time and everything went black.

  "How annoying," Ares said as I opened my eyes. I looked down at my chest as memories of my life returned. I was crusted over with blood, but Ares’ sword was gone and my chest had healed completely. I didn’t get much of a chance to respond before he brought an ax down on my head, and I felt my skull split, bone shattering under the impact. Blood oozed into my eyes, and I saw nothing but red before I died again.

  I’d come back again. I knew it the second I regained consciousness. Instead of making the same mistakes, I stayed slumped, eyes closed, hanging from my manacles. Eventually, he would notice that I was breathing, and he’d undoubtedly come up with another way to kill me. The only chance I had of getting out of this was to regain my power and then either smash my way out or see if I could use my mind control powers on Ares.

  The good news was that my body or soul or whatever seemed to be becoming acclimated to dying. I could already feel a little of my power flowing through me, and I almost cried in relief. Alongside the power was rage, pure and beautiful, and I held onto it like a life preserver.

  My power grew, and I started to have hope.

  I should really know better by now.

  "Back again, eh? Well. I may as well enjoy your death this time," Ares said mildly. "Torture, after all, is part of war."

  And it began.

  I was conscious through things I never could have imagined, pain worse than anything I'd ever been through (and I've been through some pretty rough shit). He wanted me to scream. He wanted me to beg, to cry.

  All I did was bleed, and I nurtured the hatred and rage
that flowed through me. And, finally, I let death claim me again.

  When I woke again, I felt my power building almost immediately. I sensed. For once, he wasn’t in the room with me when I woke. I had a bad feeling about that. If the God of War was taking a break from torturing and killing his prize, it could only be because he was spurring things on in the war between the gods.

  I kept my eyes closed, my body still, just in case. Now. This would be my time to make him hurt. Make him bleed. Make him wish he'd never laid eyes on me, let alone been foolish enough to cross me.

  My power rose, quickly. A few more minutes, and I’d have enough to at least blast the motherfucker the next time he came at me. I would hear him scream in agony. I would flay his body. I would wear his bones as jewelry. I would devour every bit of his godly power and lay waste to the world of gods.

  I would survive. Just a little more. A little more time. A little more power, and I would make him bleed.

  But this is me, and I am not a lucky woman. I heard the door clank open, and he stalked up to me.

  "Are you kidding me?" he shouted, and he punched me in the face, hard. I forced myself not to react. Punching was fine. Yes, it hurt. A lot. I felt my cheek bone shatter on the first impact. But if I could withstand it for just a few more minutes, I’d have enough power to hurt him back.

  He punched me again. And again, each punch sending the back of my head crashing into the wall behind me. Each punch only increased the rage I felt, increased the amount of power I felt roaring through me. A quick look at him between punches told me he was becoming completely unhinged. Fear rolled off of him. Hatred. Rage. He kept shouting about how I was supposed to be mortal, as if shouting it enough would make it true.

  I tried to gather my power.

  And he brought his sword out, and when his sword met my neck, I could have screamed in frustration. Instead, everything just faded to black again. For just a moment, right before I died, I swore I felt Brennan's warm presence with me again, and I went out feeling the one thing I wanted most.

  It went on. All I knew was that Ares killed me fourteen times, and the memory of each of my deaths stayed with me until I had one thought and it was vengeance.