Chapter Five
When next Camilla woke, it was silent around her. She still leaning against someone, who had an arm around her shoulders, but dead silence hung in the air. Upon opening her eyes, she found eleven men peering at her curiously.
“About time,” someone said.
“She sure does fall asleep a lot faster than even Mikhail can,” another commented.
“Well, it was either that or embarrass myself.” She nestled in closer to the heat surrounding her. “I’m far too comfy to move. And none of you introduced yourselves other than Wyatt and Gareth. I found out who Mikhail was from Gareth.” She cracked her eyes open and looked to the men. “So come on, gentlemen—names. I know you had to have been raised better than that.”
“No names,” someone said. He stood and jerked his head. “Everyone off. You have twenty minutes to shower and change, then we need to be in the conference room. Move!”
When the others filed out, he moved closer to her. “I mean no disrespect, Ms. Berry. But no one should have introduced themselves to you at all. It’s against protocol unless you are cleared for that information.” After spinning on his heel, he scooped up a bag and disembarked the plane.
Camilla watched the man and felt an instant chill. Fabulous—she had just gotten everyone in trouble. In her pique of anger, Camilla grumbled and kicked a seat, only to hop around and hold her foot. “Son of a biscuit-eating, goat-herding monkey, that smarts.” She rubbed her toes and—when she could walk without falling on her face—headed off the plane. “Maybe they left Tic Tacs for me as a trail. Oh, or better yet, Big Macs.” Her stomach growled.
“You talk too much,” a deep voice said behind her. When she spun, she lost her balance, but he managed to catch her and right her with very quick reflexes. It was Mikhail. Shit. He was eyeing her like she’d grown a second head or something. “You also shouldn’t kick inanimate objects, it serves absolutely no purpose.” With a hand on her back, Mikhail guided her through the hangar, then through a door and down a hallway.
“Holy balls,” she muttered. “You are way too freaking quiet. I think I need to put bells on you or something. I didn’t know you were still there.” And now she felt even more stupid.
“Where else would I be?” Mikhail asked. “You can try to put bells on me, but it won’t work. You’d still never know I was there.” He pushed open a door and ushered her inside a bedroom, which had a small table and a chair and not much else. Mikhail tossed his bag onto his bed and propped the rifle carefully against the wall. “Grab a seat, I need to shower and get changed out of this gear before our meeting.” He undid the vest and the various other straps, all of which were holding weapons.
He had brought her to his room? Oh, for heaven’s sakes. Once more, Camilla was fanning herself, but she didn’t stop watching him. “So.” She croaked out the singular word. “So you are really that good?” The look he shot her told her everything. Hell yes, he was that good, and so much more!
He sat on a chair and began to unlace his boots. Once he had them off, he moved to the bed and dug in his bag to pull out what she assumed was some clean clothing. “Stay put. Wandering around here without one of us will get you thrown to the ground, put in cuffs, and thrown in the brig. And they aren’t all that nice about it, either.” He snatched a towel off the back of the door. “I’ll be back in five,” he said as he headed into the bathroom.
She wanted to ask if she could join him but didn’t. It took everything in her to literally sit on her hands and just nod when he told her not to move. Alone, she let out the breath she was holding and closed her eyes. She rubbed her temples, feeling in over her head.
Holy hell, she was so lost—and missing. Camilla needed a phone. She didn’t have much family, but the one relative she did have, she needed to call. She needed to assure him that she hadn’t fallen off the face of the Earth. Her uncle was a bit silly at times when it came to her safety and her checking in, and more than likely he was sitting at the police station now filing a report.
Camilla moved to the door that Mikhail had left through and knocked. “Umm, Mikhail? I need to make a phone call, and since my phone is in my purse, I need to use yours. If not, I’m afraid that I have a relative who might be a little more than grumbly.”
The water shut off, and silence came from the other side of the door. Then it cracked open enough to show her way too much male covered by way too small a towel. A very wet male. He gave her an irritated look and an equally irritated sigh. “Pocket of my duffel. Near the handle. You can use that. Lock code is 4-6-2-2-4-7-9-1-1-0. But keep it short and do not tell anyone where you are or what has happened to you,” he said, and shut the door again.
Shaking herself out of her daze, Camilla moved to the duffel and pulled out a phone. She dialed her Uncle Aaron’s number by memory. “Uncle Aaron. It’s Camilla.” As if he didn’t know that. “I wanted to call and let you know I’m okay.”
“Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be?” Aaron asked her in his deep voice. “Is there anything you need to tell me? Because you know you can, no matter what it is. I’m here for you, sweetheart, now and always.”
Oh, there were a lot of things she needed to tell him, but she didn’t think she could until she was right in front of him. “Nope. Not a single thing.” Camilla hated to lie to him; it felt like a punch in the gut when she did. Feeling guilty, she added, “At least, not now? I can’t talk right now, but I promise as soon as I can I will call you back, okay? Just don’t freak when they find my car at the school, okay?” Oh crap, what to tell him? “I, uh. I met a man?” It was said like a question more than anything, because she absolutely sucked at lying, and they both knew it. “I have to go. I love you, Uncle Aaron. Be good, and please, for the love of God, don’t get into another fight with your online Wargaming buddies.” She disconnected the call before he could retort. The man had a serious, almost eerie thing for strategy and wars, but then again, he had taught her to shoot a bow. He had also told her that it was okay the animals liked her as they did, so she went with it. At least he didn’t think Camilla was crazy, even if she thought that he might have a screw or five loose at times.
After she hung up, Mikhail came out of the bathroom. Still towel-drying what little hair he had on his head, he was fully clothed, except for shoes. Tossing the towel onto the bed, he sat down and pulled his boots back on. “Did you get ahold of whomever you needed to call?”
“I did, thank you for letting me call him. He gets a little anxious if anything happens to me. I had a small little cut one day and you would have thought that the world caved in.” Granted, the small little cut had required five staples and twenty-three stitches, but hey, who was counting, right? “So, now do you take me off so that I can be debriefed, whatever that means, and so that I can get clearance to know your name without it being a criminal offense?”
He stood up and stomped his feet before looking at her. He moved closer, plucked the phone from her hand, and dropped it into his pocket. “Now we go to the debrief, and then you get the same forty questions asked of you for four hours straight. After that, they decide what to do with you, and whether you get to know the rest of our names. Just so you know, there will be someone else there to listen in. He’s not the sort to piss off, so keep the answers short and to the point. No rambling.”
“Sounds like a plan, I think,” she said with a frown. “Right, you’re telling me not to ramble?” She was so toast. “I swear that I must have hurt someone in a previous life or something, because you asking me to not ramble is like asking Niagara Falls not to be wet.”
He just looked at her. For a long time. “Okay, let me put it to you this way. The people that will be asking and listening to the questions are the sort that have the authority to put a bullet through your head and bury you in the backyard. You will cease to exist. This place doesn’t exist. None of us exist. Are you getting my drift? Because if you think I’m scary, you really aren’t going to like who’s going to be in that room with you.”
“But I don’t think you’re scary,” Camilla admitted softly. “You remind me a heck of a lot of my Uncle Aaron, but you don’t scare me. Neither does Gareth. The others, I don’t know. Especially the one that barked the orders at the end. Now him, he scares me,” she said with a nod. But I’ll try to be good. I really don’t look good with bullet holes in me. It’s so last year’s look.”
“You are in so much trouble,” he muttered. Taking her arm, he led her out of the room and up a hall, down another, through a room with a few people sitting around, another hall, through a large area that sort of looked like a reception area and then, yup, another hall. Finally, they reached a set of doors with armed soldiers on either side. They both snapped their heels together and saluted when she and Mikhail got close enough. Mikhail just nodded, and the one on the right opened the door for them to go through. Right into a board room that would rival even the biggest of corporate boardrooms for style, comfort, and décor.
“Oh crap.” She moved slightly closer to Mikhail. She couldn’t help herself. The men that were in the shadows scared the hell out of her, and she didn’t hesitate to allow herself to feel that fear. “Uhm, hi?” She waved. Mikhail planted her on a seat. Not being asked to have a seat, but placed in one, had her fear ratcheting up another notch. “Crapballs.” Camilla looked over the shiny, polished surface of the boardroom table and gulped.
Mikhail squeezed her shoulder before turning to talk to someone that moved up closer to him. She couldn’t see the man around his large frame, but knew the guy was dressed all in black. Leather?
“You got her without any trouble?” the deep voice asked. One that sounded eerily familiar.
“They were waiting for her, but we got her out without her having any contact with them,” Mikhail said to the man.
“Good, very good,” the voice said. Why did it sound so damn familiar?
Unable to help herself, and since she was likely a dead woman anyway, she twisted in her chair and looked up. “Uncle Aaron?” she asked in shock, pushing the chair back and tossing herself into his arms. “What in the name of God are you doing here? Wait, they didn’t hurt you, did they?” She faced off with the men at the table. “He’s to be left out of this. He doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Uncle Aaron?” Gareth asked, before he burst out laughing. Several of the other men from the plane were chuckling as well.
Mikhail just shot her a look. She didn’t catch the meaning behind it, though.
“Oh, shut up,” Aaron said to Gareth. “She’s always known me by that, and that is all fine and good. But now that she’s been involved in this war, she has a right to know the truth.” He sat next to her. “Camilla, sweetie, no one brought me here. I came myself. I’ve been working with these men for the last four years to get them ready to battle the weres and vampires. There’s a war brewing. These men are the best there is, and were asked to volunteer. So, here we are. Oh, and”—he made a face—“my name’s not actually Aaron.”
“Vampires? Seriously? The only war that you know about is that ding-darn game that you play.” Then she went pale. Something she had heard that night filtering into her brain. “Crapballs. They’re your war game buddies, aren’t they? But there was no Gareth or Mikhail. I would remember those names. You used weird names for them.” She swallowed harder and whispered, “Wolf, Gunner, Magnum, Orion.” She felt dizzy and pinched the meaty part of her hand between her thumb and first finger. “Oh God,” she whispered. “That’s why that name felt familiar when I heard someone say it.” She’d heard someone on the comms commenting about someone named Wolf. “What in the name of God have you gotten into, Uncle Aaron? Vampires?”
“Camilla, honey, you need to breathe.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s not a game—it never has been. This is war. And to keep you and the humans safe, I’ll damn well do anything it takes. Also, sweetie, it’s Ares, not Aaron. I gave you that name to make it seem a little more normal, but my name’s actually Ares. God of War, Ares,” he said as he watched her closely.
“What?” Camilla was going to pass out. “Maybe I did hit my head and this is my version of Oz.” She clenched her uncle’s hand, though. A tear traced down her cheek and she whispered, “So, you aren’t my uncle?”
Why that hurt the most, she didn’t know, but damn if it didn’t. She couldn’t cling to the whole God of War thing—no, Camilla focused on the fact that he wasn’t her uncle. The man she had loved all her life, the man who had been there for as long as she could remember and taught her everything about life. Why that part struck her so hard and not the whole God part was almost laughable, but that was simply who she was. The dogs and bloodsuckers she would roll with, but losing her last living relative, a man she had grown up with and had been more a father than anything? Yeah, not so much.
“Actually, I am your uncle, just a couple more times removed than you thought. It’s complicated, but I’m your family, Camilla. I always will be, sweetheart,” he said. Tugging her closer, he wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her back. “I love you, and you are my family. I never, ever wanted you to be involved in this and prayed that you wouldn’t be, but obviously, that didn’t do much good, did it?”
She hugged him back and sighed. “Well, at least now I know that you aren’t crazy. I honestly began to worry there for a minute.” She pulled back. Her smile was teasing. “You realize that it’s going to be like, whoa, hard for me to call you Ares, right? When I’ve been calling you Uncle Aaron all my life.” She shot a look to the snickering men. “No laughter from the peanut gallery, most of which I don’t flipping know,” she added. “Uncle Aa…” She caught herself. “Uncle Ares, you taught me manners. Why in the name of Hades haven’t you taught them manners?” She frowned and then tilted her head. “Wait. Is Hades real?” She tried to think of the people she’d met and shivered. “Harry? Is he Hades? Oh, lord love a duck.”
“Is she always like this?” one of the men asked.
“Usually,” Ares said with a smile for her. “Honey, Hades is locked in Tartarus. He can’t come to the surface. Yet. That’s what we’re trying to prevent. My uncle is more than a little off his rocker, and not in a funny-relative way. He fully plans on making Hell on Earth a reality, not just a saying. You’ve never met Hades—no one outside of the gods have. We locked him away a very long time ago. Unfortunately, he has his own team wreaking havoc up here. The weres and vampires are part of Team Bad Guy. Harry is Hephaestus, the gods’ weapons maker. Who is also a little off his rocker, now that I think about it. But at least he’s one of the good guys.”
He looked to the men in the room. “As to manners, military training overrides manners every time, and they know as well as I do that the wrong thing said at the wrong time can get people killed. They were given orders not to give out any information if possible. The fact you got three names out of them is a miracle, and I obviously need to reiterate the rules to them.”
“Don’t you dare give them a hard time. I mean it. You know how I am.” She had gone toe to toe with her uncle more than once and would now, too. “And Harry isn’t off his rocker so much as, well, reclusive. He made me that bow and it’s a fantastic one, so I’m glad that he’s not You Know Who.” She shivered. “Good heavens, just thinking of that man makes my blood run cold. As to military training…” She shrugged and grinned. “You forget that I teach five-year-olds and I’m always reminding them of their manners. I think that maybe gets into my everyday life as well.”
All the men were staring at her, though Gareth and Wyatt at least looked mildly amused. Mikhail, well, he was a little tougher to read. He could have been asleep except for the fact his eyes were open.
“Yeah, well.” Ares coughed. “Introductions,” he said, and pointed at the men. “You know Gareth, Wyatt and Mikhail. That’s Nolan, James, Dieter, Victor, Stefan, Lincoln, Owen, Antonio, and Thomas.”
Waving at them, she looked at the one who had been so gruff on the plane and said, “I’m sorry that I fouled up something and made you cranky. I didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to give out your names and stuff. Hopefully, you won’t hold it against me and maybe we’ll be friends one day. I really don’t want anyone angry at me. I hate that feeling.”
“It’s fine,” Ares said softly, patting her hand. “Now, sweetheart, I need you to tell me everything you remember from the moment you walked out of the school. No detail is too small or unimportant. Scents, feelings, the breeze—anything at all could be important, so just go.”
“Okay.” She closed her eyes, as he had taught her to, and took a deep breath. “I was late getting out of the class because I wanted to ensure that every child had a gift when they returned to school. It’s important to me.” She drifted slightly, going quiet, which would scare most people who knew her. “Laughter. I heard someone laughing and talking about me having the bow and quiver, but I don’t. As you know, I keep my bow at home, but he talked about it to someone who growled.” She frowned and cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t I hear them until now in my memory?”
Camilla didn’t open her eyes, though. “There were a lot of growls. I thought some kids were playing a prank, so I pulled out my light, the one you gave me. You know, the really bright one?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “I heard a hiss. Like a snake or something when I turned it on.” She’d forgotten that fact. “And then more growling. What in the name of the gods was that?” She licked her lips and whispered, “It tastes bad, like sulfur. It feels—it feels wrong, Uncle Aaron, crazy wrong. Even more than the dogs that attacked.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Am I going nuts?”
Ares looked to the team who, when she glanced over, all looked grim. “You got her out of there just in time,” he said softly. “The smell of sulfur in the air, the sensation of wrongness—these are signs of a vampire transporting in for an attack. If you ever get that sensation or smell the sulfur, run. You need to get to a place that’s been blessed and, if you can, wipe holy water on your neck. The lore that Hollywood propagates is mostly true. Holy ground, holy water, holy relics, and sunlight are their enemies. Garlic does nothing. The little light I gave you has a second setting on it. To you, it means nothing, but if you switch it to the top position and point it at a vampire, it will burn them. It’s a UV setting that will cause them to blister until they burn.”
“Heavens.” Camilla’s hands went to her throat. She couldn’t seem to help herself; it was an instinctive move to grab and stroke her throat. “Okay, so the werewolves and the vampires both want me, so that’s always a plus.” She snorted. “Oh God.” Camilla wanted to just go back to yesterday where all she had to do was make sure her uncle ate and didn’t spend all his time on World of Warcraft. “So the question I have to ask is why? Why would they want me?”
“As to why they want you…” Ares scratched at his jaw. “You’re a descendant of Artemis, the Huntress. Every few generations, those that are the descendants come into an unusual burst of power. Something to do with the planetary alignments and how they affect the veils that keep us hidden from the humans and keep Hades’s powers at bay. We forgot to account for the distortion that is created by the alignments at certain key points over the centuries. Unfortunately, once they were set, we couldn’t reset them. We can bolster them to a degree, but it’s extremely taxing.
“You and other female descendants are the generation that hold power. Because of this, they will be coming for each of you to integrate you into the clans and packs. There would be forced matings to put you and your powers, which will awaken soon enough, under their full control. If they get all six, they can break Hades free. With even four, they might be able to swing it, especially if they get the four most powerful.”
“Fabulous.” Camilla snorted. “Okay, so who are the four that you need to find? And how do you find them? I mean, have you guys kept a genealogy or something? Is that why you were in my life, Uncle Aar… Ares? And please don’t tell me that I’m one of the four. I might have to cry.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you,” he said with a frown. “The six descendants we need to find, no matter what, are you, of course, my descendants, and the descendants of Apollo, Aceso, Aphrodite, and Zeus. The best combination for the wolves and vamps would be Zeus’s, Apollo’s, mine, and Artemis’s. Sorry, Punkin, you made the top four. But since you’re safe here, they could in theory work with Aphrodite’s descendant. Aceso is a healer, so it’s counterintuitive to use the descendant. Unless she’s got zero moral code, but really, that’s more my bloodline than anyone else.”
Someone snorted at that, and Ares turned a nasty look on the men. “Don’t make me come over there, Owen. You won’t like the results.”
“Great. Okay, so I’m here, but what about the others? Do you have eyes on them or whatever the phrase is?” She was going off what she had watched on cops shows. “So that you can be sure that they’re okay? And why were you in my life instead of Artemis? Don’t get me wrong, super glad that you were there, because you’ve taught me all kinds of fun things. I’m just curious.”
“Let’s do this in order of questions. We’re working on it; not currently; they have to work in a specific order that dates back to the births; because I’m nicer than she is; and we can’t involve ourselves directly with any of our descendants. Again, another rule. This one was put into place so that we could never create a power vacuum. We can’t find the other descendants until their power activates the first time. Unfortunately, that goes the same for the other side. It’s a balance between good and evil, no one has any advantage, we all have the same amount of time.”
“Now that you have pulled me out of the line of fire, how do you know who is next in the line of power or whatever? And if you were with me, does that mean that Artemis is with your descendant?”
“No, Artemis is watching over another descendant. Zeus couldn’t because of his position as King of the Gods. Apollo, Morpheus, and Dionysus are involved, along with myself. As well as another, but we don’t know who the last one is. The fates wouldn’t tell us. You’ll like Dion, though, he’s a good egg and always has a dirty joke to tell. They can’t share who the descendant is until their power comes into play. Again, it’s against the rules. Even playing field for all. Though we did at least win the battle on who got to watch over you, so a serious plus on our score sheets.”
“That’s a bonus?” She should be grateful, and she was—really, she was—but her mind had so much filling it now that she needed time to process. Needed to think. “What happens now? Will the god or goddess who is watching over the next person come to you and let this team know who she is? Or do you wait and listen until you know that the person might be in danger?”
“Now we put you somewhere safe until the next one is known. That could be tomorrow, next month, or years from now. There is no timetable to this, it’s completely random when their power will activate enough to alert us. As to how we know…” Ares shrugged. “We just do. The gods are all connected to the universe. We feel the changes like the ebb and flow of the oceans. There are tremors, there are hiccups, and there are billions of voices that all tie into it. Trust me, you don’t ever want to be in a god’s head, it’s fucking noisy up there.” He slapped his knees. “So, we need to figure out where you get put for the next while. Ideas?”
“Back home?” Camilla offered. Ares shot her down with a look. “I have no idea. I mean, the school will worry if I don’t come back after the break, so I would at least have to come up with something, and we both know that I can’t lie to save my butt. So I have no idea.” She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I guess I stay here?” A military base. Fan-freaking-tastic. She loved to joke and talk and see new things, and she was going to be stuck on a military base with a bunch of people who didn’t do those things. At all. Wonderful.
Ares frowned at her and then started to grin. “Actually, I have a better idea.” The grin got bigger as he turned to look at the team of men. “I think you should go home with them.” He nodded. That brought about nothing but silence from the entire room, and his grin turned into a smirk of evil satisfaction.
“Excuse me?” Camilla hadn’t spoken for several long seconds, and when she did, her voice squeaked. “What do you mean go home with them?”
“Did I stutter, Camilla?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You will go home with them. It’s a large house and fully protected. You will be safe there, have a semi-normal life, and the weres and vampires can’t find you while you’re there. It’s out in the middle of the countryside, lots of trees, rolling green hills, and no neighbors close enough to cause an issue. It is also fully fortified and set with triggers that, should they be breached, I’m notified so I can come rain a little Hell on Earth myself. It’s perfect,” he said with a nod and a bright smile.
“What’s the catch? I know you, Uncle, and you have that look on your face like you’re a happy kid in a candy store, which typically means that either the newest version of World of Warcraft is coming out or you know something someone else doesn’t, so spill.”
“Well, there actually is an expansion coming out this week,” he said with a chuckle. “And really, I know a hell of a lot more than any of you will ever know. Sorry, but being a god does trump anything the rest of you have. And you will find out in time,” he told her as he got to his feet. “Now, let’s get the debriefing done so I can take Camilla home to get her things and put in her notice before she moves into the house.”
“You are so bad,” she muttered to her uncle, but then she sighed. “However, you need to ask the men here in this room if they want me at their place. You can’t simply dictate that they take in a boarder, you know.”
“Actually, I can,” he said under his breath. At her look, he sighed. “Fine. Gentlemen, any issue with allowing Camilla to live with you in the house where she’ll be safe?”
She watched as the team all shared looks before turning to look at Mikhail. Not the scary one, Nolan, but Mikhail. The big, blue-eyed behemoth just shrugged. “If she so much as puts one single frilly, girly thing in the war room, I’ll kick her ass to the curb. Otherwise, I have no issues.”
“See?” Ares said, smacking her shoulder lightly. “And you doubted your uncle. Shame on you, shame.”
Camilla snorted. “I really hope that you gentlemen don’t regret opening your home to me.” She found herself leaning back in her seat, rubbing her temples. “Okay, what’s next? I have a massive headache brewing, and I would like to take some Tylenol and go the bed, please.”
“While the team is debriefing, I’ll take you home so you can pack up whatever you need and let the school know you won’t be returning. Yes, I’ll help you come up with something plausible so you don’t get all weird during the lie,” Ares said before she could ask.
“I can email the principal. We’re all on break right now so I can handle an email, as long as you give me the story to tell them so they don’t call in the cops.”
“Faith, child, have a little faith,” he said. “I’d close my eyes if I were you. You’ll thank me for that when we arrive. The motion sickness of a jump shouldn’t affect you too horribly. You do have the gods’ blood in your veins, after all.”
Camilla closed her eyes and felt her uncle’s familiar hug. Maybe she was wrong, but she could have sworn she heard a low rumble of a growl right before they were gone.