Eternal Rider
He hit the bottom of the steps and skidded to a halt. Cara stood at the ancient bookcase, angled so he could partially see her profile. She’d opened the tiled box he kept there and was holding the items that had been inside. Irrational anger hitchhiked a ride with adrenaline and fear for Cara’s safety, and he lashed out.
“Get away from that.”
Cara jumped, whirled around, and nearly dropped the clay horse and dog. Jesus. If the toys had broken, he would have… just… Jesus.
“I’m sorry… I was—”
“You were going through my things.”
Carefully, she placed the toy animals in the box, along with the wooden rattle. But she ran her thumb over the bronze ring and the milky green emerald set into it. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
His throat closed up. “It was my wife’s.”
She set it in the box. “And the other things?”
“They were my sons’. Now get out.”
“The light was on—”
“Get. Out.”
“I only wanted to know more about you.”
“I told you my family was killed. What more do you need?” He stepped inside, and the room closed in on him. He hadn’t been in here in decades. Vulgrim kept it clean and the light working, but Ares hadn’t had the guts to visit. The knowledge that he’d been so cowardly ramped up his temper even more. “Get out.”
Pity flashed in her eyes, and wasn’t that just the icing on his shit cake? “I’m sorry about your family.” She closed the box lid so softly he barely heard the click of the tiny latch slide into place. Her gaze traveled around the room, which held all of the possessions he’d been able to retrieve from the time he was human. “Why was the light on?”
How many times had he told her to get out, and she was still standing there, asking about the lights? He should toss her, but he didn’t trust himself to touch her. He was too angry, and he wanted her too badly.
“I keep it on always. My youngest son was afraid of the dark.” He’d thought it was stupid at the time, hadn’t understood childish fears, because he’d never been afraid of anything as a child.
The room was getting seriously claustrophobic. He didn’t bother telling Cara to leave again. He got the hell out of there. Sometimes, the best strategy was to retreat and regroup.
Cara called out to him, but he kept going, didn’t stop until he was in the private, three-walled patio off his bedroom. He just wanted sixty seconds alone—
“Ares.”
Fuck. He didn’t turn around. Instead, he looked out over the sea as the last rays of sunlight cast a sparkling sheen on the water. This was his favorite time of day, when the sun-worshippers were winding down and the night-dwellers were just starting to stir. In this brief window of time, everything was quiet. Back in his military days, they’d called it the time of “peace shadows,” because no matter how fierce the fighting had been, it slowed, for just a few minutes, as everyone adjusted their tactics.
“What happened?” she asked quietly. “I mean, how did it all go down?”
In the distance, the Greek shoreline began to light up, and wisps of smoke from kitchens and beach fires formed lazy, spiraling tendrils that reached for the handful of clouds. He figured that for this topic, there should be gale-force winds, driving rain, and maybe a tornado or two.
“I was twenty-eight. Home with my brother, my wife, and my sons. At the time, I thought I was human, and I didn’t know the men who overran our city were creatures from hell in human skins. I sent my sons with my brother, and they escaped the city, but the demons captured me and my wife. They forced me to watch as they tortured and killed her. Afterward, they released me. Later, I learned that it was hell’s calling card. Time for me and my brothers to come home.”
“What did you do?” Her voice was as soft as the breeze, nonthreatening, and that was the only reason he continued.
“I found Ekkad and my sons, and we gathered my army as demons poured out of hell in their true forms. Limos escaped from Sheoul during the upheaval, and when she found us, she explained the truth of our existence. That we were meant to join the forces of evil and use our knowledge about humans to destroy them. She warned me that the demons would do anything to get us on their side. That if I didn’t join, my sons would die. I didn’t listen. I believed I could protect my family.”
He snorted, shook his head. “I was such a fool. For two years, my siblings and I battled demons. Ekkad was my right hand, my strategist, and I taught my sons to fight. They were like me, even as young as they were, they were strong, fast, and they healed quickly. One day, the fighting was worse than usual, we were badly outnumbered, and I sent my boys back to the command tent with Ekkad. When I returned, I found them.” He closed his eyes, but the darkness didn’t blot out the memories. “The hellhound had…”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say any more.”
“Yeah, I do.” He blew out an unsteady breath. “My brother and sons died because of me. Because the demons knew exactly how to hurt me. And on that day, I turned as evil as I could have been without my Seal breaking. I went insane with rage. I gathered more humans for my army… bribed them, coerced them, forced them. Men, women, children. Didn’t matter. All I wanted was for the demons to die. The humans were disposable to me. I rejected strategy that would take longer but save lives and instead went for quick victories by sheer numbers. In essence, I sent them to their deaths for my own needs. My brothers and sister helped, and it went on until we were brought to heel by angels and cursed.”
He could practically feel revulsion wafting off Cara. He definitely heard it in the rasp of her voice. “Why are there no records of this?”
“Because the angels fixed everything. They erased memories, created alternative scenarios, and destroyed all written evidence. Basically, the world started over from that point on.”
The sound of ocean waves breaking on the rocks below filled a long silence. “If demons killed your family…”
“Why do I employ them?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I found Vulgrim when he was a child. His herd had been wiped out by plague. The ones who weren’t dead were dying. All except Vulgrim. Limos thinks his father was from another herd that had developed an immunity to the disease. He was too small to take care of himself. I don’t know why I didn’t leave him, I’ve never been fond of Ramreels, but I took him. Brought him home and nursed him back to health with goat milk.”
“That was kind of you.”
He shrugged, still looking out at the sea, which had darkened, though beneath the water, light-absorbing algae were glowing, little landing strips in the waves. “He turned out to be a good kid. Cranky teen. But a capable adult, and his loyalty to me can’t be questioned. He looks upon me as a father.”
“And now he’s your… servant?”
Ares laughed. “He likes to act as if he’s being forced into servitude, but he’s not. I’ve treated him as an equal, offered to set him up in his own place, wherever he wants. Instead, he stays here. He lives with his mate on the other side of the island, and he’s in charge of all the staff. The Ramreels here are all part of his herd, and his son, Torrent, is his second in command.”
“You’re very fond of him.”
More than he would ever admit out loud. He remembered trying to teach Vulgrim to ride a horse, and only after a dozen falls did he realize that Ramreel physiology made it practically impossible for them to ride. Vulgrim liked to recount that story whenever he felt Ares needed to be humiliated, and Ares would act all irritable, but in truth, he liked the teasing that few others would dare.
“It’s funny,” he said. “Sometimes I wonder if he’d have gotten along with my sons.” Had they not been… yeah.
There was another long silence, and then, “Did you love your wife?”
He smiled, but she couldn’t have seen it. “Love was never part of our life. It was an arranged marriage. My wife knew what was expected of her, and she pleased me well enough.”
“Well… enough? Sounds like it was fun to be her.”
“She had a good life.” It was her death that was the atrocity. “No need to be outraged on her behalf. I didn’t beat her, I allowed her to spend coin on luxuries, and I didn’t take mistresses.”
“How considerate of you.”
He turned to Cara, reached out to brush a wind-blown lock of hair off her face. “It had nothing to do with being considerate. Truly, I was a bastard. I simply had no interest in women. Fighting was my life.” He waggled his brows. “The Greek god, Ares, is based on me.”
She rolled her eyes. “That must have been an ego boost.”
“I miss the days of the Greek empire. It was cool being a god.” He sighed. “Then the single-deity religions came along and ruined everything.”
“Gee, I’m so sorry.”
He laughed at her sarcasm. “Makes things simpler for humans, I guess, but they’ve gotten most of it wrong. Today’s population has no idea how much manipulation of facts has taken place over the centuries. Still amazes me that people spend more time researching a new vehicle than they do the religion they entrust their souls to. They should CARFAX their faiths. The history would shock the hell out of people.”
One delicate eyebrow rose on her forehead. “I think someone’s bitter about not being a Greek god anymore.” Her mouth quirked in amusement, and she crossed her arms over her chest, which plumped her br**sts out nicely. “But you and your brothers and sister must have had a blast, watching history happen and being part of it.”
“At times,” he admitted. He turned back to the sea and focused on some bobbing boat lights in the distance. “But mostly we spent our time watching events take place and wondering if they were portents that would bring about the breaking of our Seals. And unfortunately, we spent way too much time goofing off when we should have been trying harder to locate or protect our agimorti.”