Styxx

Styxx laughed at the sound of Urian's disgusted voice from outside his tent as his dog started barking to warn him they had a visitor. He calmed the huge brown dog down before he got up. Throwing back the flap, he came out to greet him. "Depends on your vantage point, little brother."



Arms akimbo, Urian turned in a circle as he surveyed Styxx's small black tent and the vast desert that surrounded them as far as the eye could see in all directions. "From mine ... you found hell, buddy, except I doubt hell is this hot."



Still laughing, Styxx closed the distance between them. "It's not hot. This is winter. Come back in July or August."



"Yeah, no thanks." Urian hugged him then stood back with a severe frown. "Damn, you've gone native. But for the blue eyes, I'd have no idea it was you."



Styxx lowered the black veil from his face. "Better?"



"Not really. Weirds me out more." He shook his head. "When you called last week and told me you'd been living in the desert for the last two years, I thought you meant Morocco or another city. But you really live out in the middle of Nowhere, Sahara."



Styxx shrugged. "This place makes sense to me."



"You might like it, but it's bringing back bad childhood memories. Life before toilet paper was not worth living."



"Again, a matter of perspective."



Urian appeared doubtful that anyone could like it in the desert. "You look good, by the way. Healthy."



"Thanks." Styxx held the flap open so that Urian could go inside where he had nothing but his bedroll and saddlebags of necessary supplies. "I feel better than I have in a very long time."



The big brown dog came bounding in and curled up on Styxx's bedroll to chew his rawhide bone. Urian arched a brow. "What's his name?"



"Skylos."



He scowled at Styxx. "You named your dog ... Dog? Seriously?"



Again, Styxx shrugged. "He doesn't seem to mind."



"Probably because he doesn't speak Greek."



Grinning, Styxx pulled out a bottle of wine and the only two cups he had and poured drinks for them.



Urian took a sip. "So what do you call the horse and camel? Alogo and Kamila?"



Styxx rolled his eyes. "No, they had names when I bought them. Jabar and Wasima. The dog just started following after me one day."



Urian sighed heavily. "I'd go insane here. How do you cope with the solitude?"



"That was what I had to make peace with. All my life, I hated being alone. After we freed Soteria, it dawned on me that I had to make a choice. Either be part of the modern world or not."



"You chose poorly, my friend."



"No, this I understand. It's the existence I willingly chose on my own. No one incarcerated or dropped me here against my will. Not to mention, I really like not having solid walls that confine me." And he'd finally come to terms with the fact that he would never be part of a family or group. So long as he was in the vicinity of other people, Styxx had held out hope that Acheron would change his mind or that he'd find a group that would accept him.



Out here, he'd stopped being one half or part of a whole and had learned to be whole by himself. "But what about you? How have you been?"



Urian reached for the can of cashews. "Same old, same old. Someone's always trying to take over the world or end it. Really not looking forward to dealing with 2012 and the crap that's coming out to play with us." He laughed as he scanned Styxx from the top of his agal-wrapped black keffiyeh to his desert boots. "It's really messing with my head how natural you look dressed like a Bedouin. The scimitar and dagger just add to the whole cosplay, Assassin's Creed thing you got going."



Styxx laughed. "I also have a handgun tucked at my back, and a rifle." He inclined his head over to where it rested near his bedroll. "But the sword doesn't run out of bullets when bandits attack."



"Another thing I tend to forget. You're human."



"There are many who would argue that."



Urian didn't respond. Instead, he opened the backpack he'd brought and handed a dark blue box to Styxx. "I got you something I thought you might like."



Styxx set his cup aside to take it and open it. A slow smile curled his lips as he saw four new sketchbooks and a pencil set. "Thank you, very much."



"Hey, someone with your talent should never be without. That picture you drew of me and Phoebe ... incredible. You nailed her looks and you've never even seen her, and I can't thank you enough for leaving that for me. The only pictures I had of her were the ones in my head. Is that why you started drawing?"



He carefully tucked his gift away. "I actually started as a kid. It was one of my favorite things to do until Ryssa saw me and thought I was copying her journals. She had one of her more legendary hissy fits and then when she opened it and saw my feeble attempts at drawing, she laughed and ridiculed them, and ran straight to my father to tell him I'd been wasting my study time and precious parchment on stupidity. He didn't take it well. He made me burn my sketches and had me whipped. Then he made me earn back all the money I'd squandered on wasting good parchment for foolishness. After that wonderful experience, I had such an aversion to art, I didn't even want to look at figured pottery."



"Then how did you learn to draw like that?"



"Vanishing Isle. I didn't have paper or pencil, but I did have a lot of sticks and a lot of wet sand, and a shit ton of time. You think I can draw? You should see my sand cities."



"You mean sand castles?"



"Nah, anyone can build a sand castle. I do entire cities, complete with armies and aqueducts."



Urian laughed even harder. "I hate to admit it, but I have missed your twisted sense of humor. And I'm stunned you get cell reception out here."



"I don't. I was in a town a week ago buying supplies when I called."



"Ah. So how do you charge the phone?"



"Bribe a store clerk to use their outlet for an hour while I shop."



"You've thought of everything."



Styxx leaned over to his backpack and pulled out a roll of toilet paper then chucked it at Urian. "I try."



"That's so messed up." Sobering, Urian cleared his throat. "You haven't asked me about Acheron."



Styxx forced himself not to react. Or to care. That had been the hardest thing to do ... to let go of and bury a relationship that had died a long, long time ago. "I assume he's doing fine. The world hasn't ended and I'm not dead."



"He's expecting a baby in April."



Styxx snorted. "That should make medical news then, and I'm sure Soteria is grateful she doesn't have to go through labor."



"Wha ... ah, gah. Yeah. You knew what I meant."



He did, indeed. "Do they know what it is?"



"A boy."



Styxx's breath caught in his throat at the injustice. But he forced his anger down. It wasn't Acheron's fault that his mother had murdered Styxx's son.



His brother's life and happiness had nothing to do with his ... another thing he'd come to terms with. They may have been born twins, but they were two different people who'd always led two separate lives.



And Acheron didn't want him in his.



Styxx smiled. "I'm happy for them. I'm sure his son will be handsome and strong."



Just as his son would have been, had Galen lived.



Styxx had never been quite sure what had bothered him most about losing Bethany and their baby. The fact that they were gone or that he hadn't been there to at least try and protect them. He could only imagine the horror Bethany must have felt when she faced the Destroyer.



Alone.



He swallowed hard at the eternal pain that never lessened. "So how's Davyn?" he asked, switching the topic to Urian's best friend.



"Insane. I seem to attract that personality type for some reason."



Styxx smirked. "AeȬ koloiȰs para koloioi hizanei."



Urian scowled at the old Greek saying. "A jackdaw is always with a jackdaw?"



"Birds of a feather."



Urian laughed. "Hey now, I resemble that remark."



Styxx leaned back so that he could peep through the crack in the tent flap to see that it was now completely dark outside. He set his cup aside. "If you really want to know why I love it here, follow me."



Skylos lifted his head, but since Styxx didn't call him outside with them, he went back to sleep.



As soon as they were out of the tent, Styxx looked up at the sky and started opening the sides of the tent so that they could take advantage of the much cooler night air. "You don't have a view like that in New York."



Urian gaped at the sight of the vivid night sky. "I'd forgotten how beautiful and bright they are."



"Yeah. When I was a kid, I'd sit out on my balcony for hours staring at them." He and Acheron would make up stories about the heroes whose constellations they could identify. "Most of the time, I don't pitch the tent. I sleep out here on the sands, watching them. It was one of the things I missed over the centuries. They don't exist on the Vanishing Isle or Katateros."



"Again, I never think about the fact Katateros only has a moon. Alexion said the stars faded when Apollymi killed Astors, I think his name was."



"Asteros."



Urian cocked a brow at his answer. "I'm amazed you remember any of their names."



Honestly, Asteros was one he'd like to forget. But some memories were just too brutal to die no matter how much time passed.



"Are you hungry?" Styxx asked. "I have dried scorpion, nuts, figs, dates, and apples."



Urian twisted his face up in distaste. "I really hope the scorpion offer is just to screw with me."



"No, it's actually quite good. Tastes like chicken."



"Ar, ar, ar." Urian feigned laughter. "I'd rather live on blood ... or my shoes."



Styxx tsked. "I might have some beef jerky left."



"That I could be talked into."



Styxx went back inside. "It's good to have you here, Urian. I'd forgotten what it was like to actually carry on a real conversation with someone outside of my head."



"Well, now that I know where you are, I might occasionally bother you. As long as you don't feed me grasshoppers, ants, scorpions, or other nasty multi-legged things the gods never intended us to eat."



"Stop being a baby. Eat your meat or you can't have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?"



Urian laughed. "I am stunned you know Pink Floyd."



Styxx shrugged as he opened Skylos's dinner first and poured it into a small metal bowl. "Modern music is the only thing I miss about your world."



"Next time I come, I'll bring you a solar battery charger for your phone. Not like you don't have an abundant supply of sunlight here."



"That I do have. Definitely." Styxx paused as his gaze fell to his small chest near his rifle that had reappeared one day while he'd been in Katateros. He'd thrown out all the herbs long ago, but there were still four things in it that had belonged to him as a man.



Opening it, he pulled out the oiled cloth and handed it to Urian. "My gift to you, little brother."



Urian frowned. "Thank you." He unwrapped the cloth to find Styxx's black and bronze vambraces. "Wow ... how old are these?"



"They were mine back in the day. Galan gave them to me, and I wore them into every battle I fought."



Urian's jaw went slack then he shook his head. "I can't take these."



Styxx pushed them back toward him. "I have no use for them anymore. They're just something else I have to pack and carry, or worry about losing."



Urian let out a long, appreciative breath. "These are incredible. I can't believe how pristine they are. Thank you. I'll cherish them always."



His gratitude made Styxx extremely uncomfortable. "I know how much you like to collect antiques. And they don't get much older than those." He went to start the campfire so that he could cook their dinner.



Urian carefully wrapped the vambraces back into their cloth and tucked them into his backpack as he watched Styxx. His heart broke for his friend who'd felt so out of place in the world that he'd had to come to the remotest place on it to find some sense of belonging. Urian hadn't been joking when he said that he'd go insane with this kind of isolation. This was truly a desolate, hard way to live.



But sadly, it was all Styxx knew.



All he'd ever known.



May 14, 2012



Acheron brushed his hand through his son's blond hair while Sebastos napped on his chest. There was nothing in the world more soothing to him, and the older Bas got, the less Ash was able to understand how his family could have turned their backs on him the way they had. He'd rather have his arm cut off than hit his son.



And the other acts of cruelty against him ...



Never. He wouldn't be able to put his worst enemy through the things they'd forced him to endure.



Closing his eyes, Ash listened to Tory complaining in Greek as she graded papers in her green armchair across from him.



"I'm sure they're paying attention in class, love."



"Really?" She looked up with a peeved grimace. "'Cause I never knew either of the Thebes was in Yugoslavia."



He cringed at that mistake. "Ouch."



"Yes, ouch. I don't even teach that subject. And did you know that one of the heroes in Seven Against Thebes was named ... not Parthenopaeus like the last name of the professor who teaches this Ancient Civ class ... oh no, no. Parthenon was his name. Parthenon ... I thought that one was a gimme. Dang. How can anyone get that wrong when Dr. Soteria Parthenopaeus is your professor? Really?" She scribbled a grade on the paper. "One big fat F for you, my lovely." She screwed her face up then erased the grade. "Okay, a D ... no, C. I can't stand to fail a student."



Ash laughed at her kind heart that had saved him from the hell his life had been. "I don't know, akribos. That one sounds like she's on her knees, begging to fail."



"And this is why I don't have you help me grade my papers. You'd flunk everybody."



Ash kissed the top of his son's head. "I wouldn't flunk Bas."



"He's only a year old. Even with his superlative gene pool, he won't be taking this class for at least ten years."



"Still planning to have him graduate college by age twelve, huh?"



"Yes. With a name like Sebastos Eudorus Parthenopaeus he does not need to attend high school for very long."



Ash laughed again. She had a valid point, however Bas came with his own guard demon and a father who was a god. "I don't think he's going to have any problems with bullies."



At least not for long.



Smiling, she picked her phone up from the end table and snorted.



"Pam and Kim texting more puppy photos?"



She shook her head. "Your brother has an extremely twisted sense of humor."



His entire body went cold at the mention of Styxx. Ash arched a brow as every bit of his humor was sucked out of him. "What are you talking about?"



"I asked him for his mailing address and this is what he sent back." She held her phone out to him.



Styxx Anaxkolasi



13 Phlegethon Way



Tartarus, Hades 88888



Lightly smiling in spite of the fact it aggravated him, Acheron rolled his eyes. "I particularly appreciate his surname."



"Yeah, king of hell. I thought you would. And I love that his zip code is unhappiness repeated. Oh, and the thirteen for Hades and his river of fire. Even Lord Darkness would find that hysterical. Think I should forward it over to Persephone?"



Fighting against the surge of anger he felt, Ash cupped Bas's head with his hand. "Sure. Why not?"



Tory paused at the look on Ash's face. "What's wrong? I thought you'd be amused."



Those swirling silver eyes burned with a torment she couldn't begin to fathom. "I'm just wondering why you asked him for it."



She was aghast at his words. "Tell me you're not jealous."



He dropped his gaze down to Bas and wouldn't even look her in the eye.



"Acheron..." she chided. "Really?"



This time when he met her gaze, the anger and hatred in those swirling silvers set her aback. "We have a bad history, Sota. And you've no idea really how bad. You've only been given bits and pieces. Suffice it to say, I'd rather you keep your distance from him.... Eleven thousand years later, his paybacks still burn and make me want to draw his blood. It's why I haven't brought him in any closer. I'd love to give him a chance, I really would, but I don't dare. You two are too precious to me to take such a chance with your safety."



Her heart lurched at the agony he tried so hard to conceal. No one else would hear it in his voice, but she did. She was well aware of every nuance of her husband's moods.



Since Ash had always refused to talk about his brother, or to him even when they'd been in close proximity, she'd known their past had to be brutal. But this was such an innocent contact that she hadn't considered how much it would bother him, especially since Styxx had been kind enough to rescue her, and then had quietly gone his way and never bothered them again. "I am so sorry, Achimou. I didn't mean to hurt you. I only wanted to send him a thank-you note."



His eyes turned red, letting her know he was furious. "Thank you for what? Making my life miserable?"



She swallowed as she reconsidered showing him what Styxx had sent for Sebastos's birthday. Would it upset him even more? But there was no missing the suspicion Ash had over her e-mailing his brother.



Better to allay it before it grew. The imagination was far deadlier and more destructive than the simple truth.



Taking her phone back, she went to Bas's room then returned with the ancient box. She took the baby from him before she handed the box over. "He sent that to my office at work for Bas's birthday. There was no return address on it. Just the small note wishing him a happy birthday. It wasn't even signed."



"Then how do you know it was from Styxx?"



"Open it."



Ash wasn't sure what to expect. Severed head ... statue of an obscene gesture ... live cobra. He had no idea, but when he pushed the tissue paper aside and found an old hand carved horse, his heart stopped.



No. It couldn't be....



Completely stunned, he picked it up and turned it over. Etched on the bottom, in ancient Greek were the words



To Acheron



From Ryssa.



Love always.



Tears filled his eyes as he remembered his beloved sister giving it to him for his fifth birthday. He'd been so thrilled ... And Styxx had gifted him the matching soldier that their father had later burned in a fit of rage. It was that uncalled-for action that had prompted Ash to ask Styxx to keep the horse for him in Styxx's room where, unlike Ash, it'd be safe from harm.



Tory smiled as she fingered the horse in his hands. "I figured it had to come from Styxx. Who else would have had it?"



Ash had to force himself not to splinter the horse as he heard Styxx's angry voice in his head from the past. I would pay to see you fucked in the ass until you bleed from it. "The bastard mocks me."



Tory scowled at him. "How so?"



"Why else would he send this if not to hurt me?" Of all men, Styxx had to know how badly those memories burned.



"I don't know, Ash. Maybe he sent it because he thought you'd like to have it for your son. He has to know how much you love Ryssa and he probably thought that you'd like to have the gift she gave you."



Still unsure, Ash returned the horse to the box. "You give him too much credit."



"Maybe. And maybe you don't give him enough."



To have his own wife defend the bastard who'd tried to kill him made him seethe with fury. One good deed Styxx had been forced into committing did not make up for the years and years of abuse he'd suffered at Styxx's hands. "Do not ever defend him to me," he growled. "He was born a selfish bastard and he remains one to this day."



She held her hands up in surrender. "Fine. I'll lose his e-mail and block the account. Not that I think he'll ever use it. As you can see, his response was quite terse, and ... obviously he doesn't mean for me to contact him again."



"Thank you."



Tory inclined her head then started to leave. Yet she couldn't help adding one last thing. "I swear I'm going to drop the subject and never mention this again, but I have to ask ... Why would he hang on to that for almost twelve thousand years and keep it so pristine if he truly hated you and is as selfish as you claim? It looks brand new, and I of all people know how hard it is to maintain something that old in that condition for this amount of time. That just doesn't strike me as a labor of hatred, Acheron, but rather one of love."



* * *



I shouldn't be doing this....



Acheron had sworn to himself that he'd never look at Ryssa's journals again. He couldn't stand seeing her handwriting and hearing her voice in his head. But after what Tory had said and the memories she'd stirred, he wanted to know something about Styxx's life all the years they'd been apart.



Because the one thing that damned horse had done was make him remember what Styxx had received as gifts that same year....



A fighting instructor who'd gleefully blackened his eye and busted his nose during their first practice, and the "pleasure" of attending court sessions with his father. When Styxx had asked about a toy present, his father had sneered at him. "I'm not raising a boy. You're to be a king, and kings don't play with toys. You're too old for play. It's time for you to start assuming your royal duties, and stop being selfish and thoughtless."



Styxx had only been five years old.



Ryssa had given Styxx nothing. "Why waste my money on something he won't appreciate? He has more than enough toys for one boy." But really, he hadn't. His father had used them as a source of punishment. Whenever Styxx displeased him, he made Styxx burn them.



The only times he could ever remember Styxx playing was when he'd sneak away to be with Ash.



Ash fell silent as those long forgotten memories surged and he focused on his sister's writing. Most of the entries were innocuous. Many chronicled whatever Styxx had been given....



Today, Father gave Styxx an incredible black horse. It would easily cost four to five times the price of my pony. Father said it's because Styxx will one day ride it into battle. But I don't think so. I'm sure Styxx will be safely tucked in a chariot, behind a driver and two bodyguards.



Acheron flipped forward a few more pages.



For the Dionysian Festival tomorrow, Father gave me a simple gold necklace. Styxx was given an impressive leaf crown. He didn't even say thank you for it. But then why should he? Father gives him everything. I tried to speak to Father earlier and he couldn't be bothered with my idle prattle. Not while he had his precious Styxx to coach about politics.



Acheron frowned at the date. Politics? Styxx was only eight. What kind of political discussion could his father have had with an eight-year-old?



"What are you doing?"



He jumped at the sound of Tory's voice. "Dang, woman, make some noise when you walk. You startled me."



"Now you know how I feel living with Captain Never-make-a-peep." She came forward to peer over his shoulder. "Why are you looking at those up here all alone?"



"Because I have this really annoying wife who made a lot of sense to me earlier, and I didn't want her to know that she had me thinking about things."



"Aw, in that case, I won't tell her I caught you snooping."



"I would definitely appreciate it."



Smiling, Tory leaned against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. Acheron closed his eyes and savored the sensation of her there. She was the only person alive he'd allow at his back. She rested her chin on his shoulder. "What are you looking for?"



Unlike him, she'd read through them all.



"Information about Styxx."



"Oh, I call those the Jealous Rant Series."



Ash frowned. "How so?"



"Granted, I don't know Ryssa. I know you love her and I would never, ever say anything against her, but when you read her entries as an objective outsider, they come off as very mean-spirited whenever she mentions Styxx. It's as if she's bipolar. Anything to do with you is sweet and complimentary. Filled with love and compassion and devotion. But everything with Styxx is, kill the obnoxious little beast I hate. Like the one you're looking at."



Tory flawlessly read the ancient Greek he'd taught her. "Today Styxx left for war. I still can't believe how he embarrassed Father when he took off his prince's signet ring in front of everyone and shoved it at him. I could buy a fleet of horses for the cost of that ring and he treated it as if it was nothing. He's so spoiled. Nothing has any value to him at all. I told Father he should melt it down and make me one. I would at least appreciate it."



She sighed. "Makes you wonder why a prince would take off the one thing that was guaranteed to get him home should he be taken by his enemies. Without that ring, he would have been treated as any prisoner and put to death or sold into slavery, especially given his age and physical beauty at the time. I mean that was a pretty big 'Screw you, Dad.' I know he was young, but still he'd have to be mentally defective to risk what slavery meant for a handsome teenager in those days."



Ash swallowed as he noted the date. "Damn, he was too young to go to war." Barely sixteen ...



"Mmm, and speaking of, I wanted to ask you about..." She flipped through the pages.



"Wait." Ash stopped her then flipped back and started reading.



June 23, 9529 BC



It was midday before I finally found Acheron's whereabouts. I knew better than to ask my father for his location-that would only invite his anger toward me....



Acheron shook his head as he reread it. "This can't be right."



"How so?"



"Ryssa brought me food well before this date."



"Are you sure?"



"Believe me, I wouldn't forget it. Acts of kindness toward me were rare enough that they tended to stand out."



"Not what I meant. Are you sure it was Ryssa and not Styxx who brought the food?"



Ash grimaced as he considered it. "Styxx hated me. Tory, he castrated me. Brutally. You have no idea the shit he put me through."



"And I ask you again ... Are you sure? How many times has Artemis pretended to be someone else to get to you? Or any of the gods, for that matter. Remember in the Odyssey when Athena walks around disguised as Mentor? Or the Iliad? The gods were forever masquerading as others, for all kinds of reasons."



She was right.



Tory picked up another journal and opened it. "And you never told me that Styxx was with you in Atlantis."



"That's because he wasn't."



"No?" She flipped to a page and pointed to the entry. "Read that one."



October 28, 9533 BC



Styxx returned from Atlantis today and you would have thought that Zeus himself had come down from Olympus to grace us with His golden presence. Instead of being cross with Styxx for selfishly abandoning his duties and vanishing without notice or word, and worrying Father sick, Father rewarded the beast for it! He placed him in a suite of rooms that make a mockery of mine. How is Styxx to learn to be considerate of others when Father dotes on him so for his rudeness? It sickens me to see him so spoiled.



And when I asked him for news of Acheron, Styxx sounded just like Estes. "He's fine, Ryssa. Just fine." Nothing else. Not a single word about how Acheron looked or anything. Styxx didn't even want to discuss it. He very rudely told me to leave him alone when I pressed him for more details about my brother.



He acts like he's drugged or drunk or something. It's disgusting, and he smells. The scent is fruity and cloying and repugnant. If I smelled like that, Father would make me bathe it off.



I should go to Atlantis and vanish for over two months, too, and see how Father likes that.



The letters Estes sent Father said he enjoyed his time with Styxx immensely, and that they had great fun riding with Estes and his friends and Acheron. He said that he loved teaching Styxx new things, and seeing the twins together, night and day. Of course, he lavished praise all over Styxx at Acheron's expense.



"He's an even quicker learner and has a very gifted tongue that we greatly took advantage of," Estes wrote. As if Styxx could be better at anything than my Acheron is.



What I really don't understand ... How can Styxx be so sullen after having such a long and fun-filled visit? He's been locked in his room since his return and growls if anyone approaches him. When he comes out, he looks awful. Shakes all the time and cringes if you go near him. He won't even look at Father. I don't understand my beastly brother's mind.



Father hasn't even noticed. He's just so glad to have him back, he couldn't care less how shameful Styxx behaves.



Since I received the servant's letter asking me to Atlantis, I think I shall go, too. After all. If Styxx can have fun there, so can I.



Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll show Father. I'll visit Acheron and Estes and have my own adventure. Then I can see how Acheron is and make sure he's happy.



Acheron's head reeled as he read that. "I have no memory of Styxx ever being there with me."



"For two months?"



Ash shut the journal and pushed it aside. From what Ryssa described, and what his sister claimed Estes had written, he could only imagine what had been done to Styxx. Estes had loved his double entendres. Entendres he used to publicly humiliate and hurt his victims. And Ash had received more than his fair share of that cruelty when he lived with his uncle.



And as Ash sat there, he remembered some of the things Styxx had mentioned to him in anger and in passing, but never elaborated on.



The night Styxx had tried to free him after his father had ordered him returned to Atlantis ...



Styxx hadn't been lying when he'd buried the dagger in the ground. He must have gone to Atlantis on his own to free him. And somehow he'd been captured, too.



Damn you, Estes. You sick bastard. It would be just like his twisted uncle to take those memories from Ash and leave them with Styxx to torture him with. There was nothing Estes loved more than playing with people's heads and scrambling their thoughts.



Turning and using them against each other.



Estes had done that with Ryssa. He'd convinced Ash that she hated him and wanted nothing to do with him at all, while telling his sister that Ash was fine and happy. If Styxx had cared enough to go after Ash to free him, Estes would have definitely kept Ash from remembering it so that he wouldn't ever try to leave, and he would have made sure Styxx was punished severely enough that he never tried to free him again.



Tears filled his eyes as he stared at the closed journals and pulled Tory into his arms for comfort.



"What is it, sweetie?"



"Tory, if I've done what I think I have, I don't know how I'll live with it."



June 23, 2012



Styxx froze as he entered his tent to find a Charonte demon sitting on his bedroll, staring at him with big red eyes. The last time he'd seen Simi, she'd shredded him and left him ... dead.



Moving as slowly as he could, he put his hand on the .38 he kept in a holster at the base of his spine. It wouldn't kill her, but it would give him time to get away from her should she attack again. He also made sure to keep Skylos outside where the demon couldn't hurt him either.



To his complete shock, she smiled warmly. "Hello, akri-copy."



Wary as hell, Styxx eyed her. "What do you want?"



She sighed heavily. "The Simi come to say she sorry for what she did to you. But see, you hurt my akri and the Simi loves her akri so anyone who attacks her akri gets eat, even those who look like akri, see?"



Not really.



She stood up.



Tightening his grip on the gun, Styxx immediately backed away.



The demon cocked her head and frowned. "You look so strange like that. Why you wear eye makeup, akri-copy?"



He shrugged. "Protects my eyes from the sun."



"That's why yous gets sunglasses, silly. Don't nobody tell you that?" She bent down and picked up her red heart-shaped backpack that had black demon wings spanning out from it. She wrinkled her nose at him. "Itn't it cute? Akra-Danger gived it to me at Christmas. Now less see..." She rummaged around until she pulled out a bottle of barbecue sauce with a ribbon tied around it. "Happy birthday, akri-copy!"



When he didn't move to take it, her smile faded. She stepped toward him and he quickly took two steps back.



Her shoulders and wings dropped as she pouted. "Why you so skittish of the Simi?"



"I don't know. Call me stupid, but the last time we met, you killed me."



Her wings drooped even more. "I know. It was wrong to do that to you. But that was before you saved akri and akra-Tory and gave Baby Bas his horse he loves to play with. So the Simi glad you didn't stay dead, and I promise I won't kill you again. Friends?"



Styxx wasn't sure what to make of his brother's demon daughter. He knew from Acheron's memories that she was hopelessly devoted to his brother. Unlike a human, she wasn't devious or conniving or even complicated. Simi was very black-and-white. She either hated or she loved.



Letting go of the gun, he reached for the barbecue sauce. "Thank you, Simi."



Her wings shot back up as a smile curved her lips. "It the Simi's favorite that she only give to special quality people. See..." She pointed to the label. "Hot, hot ... though it hot here, you might not need it. But it's good on everything." She beamed a giant smile at him.



He inclined his head to her. "I appreciate it. Thank you very much."



She cocked her head again and frowned. "Why you so sad, akri-copy? You got aches in your heart?"



"I'm fine, Simi."



Her frown deepening, she glanced around the tent. "Who you gots coming to celebrates with you?"



Styxx sighed. "I don't celebrate birthdays."



Eyes wide, she gaped. "No! Birthdays are always special cause they's the days when you were welcomed to the world and people be all happy when babies are born."



Yeah ... not in his experience.



Styxx set the barbecue sauce down next to his pack. "You should probably go back to Acheron before he misses you."



Instead, she sat down on his bedroll.