Omega (20 page)

Even I doubted he’d get anywhere close to
the grotesque flying twenty meters over the house.

But he did. The picket pierced one wing and
pinned it to the side of the monster, running all the way through
him to stick out of his other side.

A roar shook the windows of the house, and
suddenly, the creature – and girl – were falling.

“
No,” I whispered,
horrified.

The girl came free from the monster’s arms
as they tumbled out of the sky, screaming as she did.

One of the men cursed, but Herakles trotted
a short distance, spread his legs wide and held out his arms.

Falling … and Herakles
caught me.
I shook my head, suddenly
dizzy, suddenly able to feel the air rushing through my hair as I
fell once more …

Down, from the night sky …

Down, from the arms of the creature trying
to rescue me …

Down, into Herakles’ arms.

I dropped to my knees, struggling to right
myself. Mrs. Nettles tugged free and waddled away. Blinking, I
forced my mind to focus here and now and not on the dream.

Herakles had the girl. The grotesque smashed
through the roof then crashed through the first and second floors,
sounding as if he landed on and crushed the kitchen table.

“
It’s okay.” Herakles’
voice was gruff.

The other men were panicking, one calling
for an ambulance while another barked for someone to bring a first
aid kit.

I climbed to my feet and approached,
fearfully watching Herakles and the girl. She was shaking and
scared, staring not at Herakles but into the air above his
head.

“
Is your name Alessandra?”
he asked.

My heart dropped to my feet.

The girl nodded.

“
My name is
Herakles.”

“
Bad people,” she
whispered.

“
Not bad. You’re special,
and we’ve been trying to find you.”

“
You’re … hurt.” She was
staring at the air above him. “Broken.”

Herakles breath caught audibly. “What did
you say?”

“
The ribbons. They’re
broken.”

I blinked. I’d done my best to cancel out
the ribbons around everything to concentrate on what I was
watching. I saw what she meant. Herakles had four ribbons, but the
colors were tie-died rather than solid, the edges jagged instead of
smooth. They appeared to have been stitched together from other
ribbons.

Frankenstein.
He referred to himself as such on occasion. I
thought it was because of his size. I saw the truth now, the
confused Franken-ribbons unique to him.

“
I can fix them.” Baby
Alessandra raised her hands and began to manipulate them, using her
fingers to smooth and shift them.

Herakles staggered and dropped to his knees,
releasing her. She rolled free of him with a grunt and then sat up,
appearing irritated to have been disturbed before she finished. She
continued to manipulate the ribbons until the edges smoothed out
and the colors were uniform.

Herakles contorted on the ground as she
worked. When she was finished, he fell still, panting and
sweating.

“
Now we have to save
Mismatch,” the girl said and stood.

“
Mis … what?” Herakles
struggled to lift his head.

“
My gargoyle.” She started
towards the house.

“
Stop!” he called. “You
can’t … it’s dangerous.” With some effort, Herakles pushed himself
to his feet and staggered forward before regaining some part of his
composure. “What did you do to me?”

“
The ribbons.” She
pointed.

Herakles passed a hand over his head as if
to see what was there then brought his hand before his face. He
stared at it before he looked down at his body. “This isn’t me.
This isn’t who I am.”

“
Mismatch!” Alessandra
cried.

I circled Herakles. The coldness was gone
from his features, and he appeared … aware where he was mechanical
before. He had been broken or at least, not quite right, as
little-me said. I didn’t understand the source of his
Franken-ribbons. Something terrible had happened to him, perhaps in
the youth he refused to reveal to me.

“
Herakles! The Supreme
Magistrate is on the way. We need to get her to the House,” someone
called.

His face skewed in response, and he glanced
towards the girl making her way up the stairs. Herakles snatched
her.

“
But – ” she started to
object.

“
Quiet. The bad people are
coming. We need to leave.”

He took her out the back gate and
disappeared into the night.

The scene faded. I was standing behind the
house. The yard was gone, along with the men.

Realizing how tightly my chest was clenched,
I bent over and took several deep, steadying breaths.

I was slow sometimes, but even I understood
what I’d seen.

Me. Herakles. The forgotten events of the
night that changed my life. But was it real?

Yes
. I felt it just like I felt the gem at my chest belonged to
me, like my grotesque had belonged to me.

Herakles killed my
parents. He was going to turn me over to the people he hated most
in the world. My protector, like everyone else in my life, wasn’t
who I thought he was. I
ached
inside. The man I never thought could disappoint
me had turned out not to exist.

“
Don’t freak out, Lyssa,”
I whispered, sucking in air.

Aurora was lining the horizon. With no
concept of how time worked here, I forced myself to straighten.
Mrs. Nettles was standing in the doorway.

“
So, were you … mine?” I
asked as I approached, straining to control the
emotions.

She nodded.
Mrs. Nettles.
Turning,
she pointed towards the kitchen.

Not at all certain I was ready to see what
happened next, I went.

The grotesque lay in the center, a pool of
dark blood beneath him. The ghost Mrs. Nettles was tugging the
picket out of his side. I felt bad for her, wanting to tell her no
one could survive such a wound except …

I had seen him. I knew he did. Somehow.

Five ribbons floated around him, one of
which was green.

The sun came up, albeit not as fast as it
went down, and something even more incredible began to happen.

The monster became human. Its change was
silent. Wings melted away, and the athletic, feline body turned
from gray to olive-skinned. Dark hair grew on his head, and the
talons withdrew into him.

“
No!” I breathed. “It
can’t be!”

By daylight, the grotesque was Adonis.

“
No, no, no!”

But, similar to Herakles, he wasn’t the
Adonis I knew. He was younger for one, in his teens. When he awoke,
his expressions were open and aware instead of cold and withdrawn,
his gorgeous eyes warm. He sobbed out of pain, and spoke gently to
Mrs. Nettles.

“
Is no one who they seem
to be?” I whispered, stricken by the sight of anyone in pain. “He
tried to rescue me.”

He’s yours.
Mrs. Nettles’ tiny voice said into my
head.

“
Mine.” I didn’t
understand fully what that meant or how this man was the same who
slaughtered people right and left, who kidnapped Herakles,
destroyed my forest and was universally feared and hated by
everyone. What changed? Why had he wanted to rescue me when I was a
child and turn me over to the Sacred Triumvirate now?

Confusion was trumped only by helplessness
at seeing him hurt. Whatever our past and present, I ached for him
strongly enough that tears pricked my eyes and I resisted the urge
to weep. We were connected on a level I had no clue existed but
which made his pain real to me.

I wiped my eyes. “Dream. Memories. Not
real.”

Mrs. Nettles pointed towards a door I
guessed would lead to the garage if this were reality. In this
version of things, my name was written on it, and I instinctively
knew I wasn’t going to find two cars behind it.

I didn’t want to leave, but she waddled in
the direction. I trailed, this time apprehensive about what lay
behind the door.

She stopped before it and looked up at
me.

“
You want me to … open
it?” I asked.

A nod.

A sense I wanted to ignore was creeping up
on me. It was more than familiarity this time. It was the idea that
Adonis was right. I basically knew nothing about anything and had
to acknowledge there was a piece of me that had been hidden from
everyone for too long.

I didn’t know me, either, and this scared
me. Terrified to learn more about how Herakles wasn’t the man I
thought he was, I was likewise starting to tremble to think I was
about to find out who I was. What if I were as bad as Herakles had
been? What if my secrets were the worst?

Who – or what – am I?

If all men were just, there
would be no need for valor.

–
Agesilaus the
Second

“
Failed miserably,” I
reported and tossed my weapons onto the table beside one of the
Silent Queen’s gardeners.

Sometimes success takes a
different shape than one expects. This was supposed to be a sphinx
and ended up a griffin. It’s still beautiful,
she replied through the telepathic link we shared. Mute since
the age of six, she spoke to no one but me.

I glanced over at my mistress and the keeper
of the Bloodline, the stunning Queen of Greece. She perched on a
bench beneath a shade tree, her crystal clear blue eyes on the
gardener shaping one of the many fantastical bushes in the
gardens.

“
Ran into Niko. We’re not
the only ones pressing Adonis. He has absolutely no concern for the
Oracle discovery protocol.”

You need to make a decision
about Niko,
she reminded me. With cool
beauty, mild manners and the large eyes of a doll, the Silent Queen
was often mistaken for being simple, naïve, weak.

Such a person didn’t request a High
Priestess to assassinate an ex-lover, among others. The cunning
teen was brilliant and ruthless in the way of a royal fighting for
her title. I had lost track of the people we’d seen to an early
grave to protect our secrets from the other members of the
Triumvirate.

“
I know,” I said. “He’s
been a pain lately. We have a son together. Makes things
complicated. If he were anyone else …”

He’d be gone. I
know.
The Silent Queen patted the seat
beside her.
How are preparations
going?

“
Perfect. Ready to take
the next step when commanded.”

And the Oracle? Do we strike or wait? What
is your impression?

I dwelled on the question for a moment,
trying to sort things out in my own head before responding. “She’s
tough. Smart. Adonis was in a hurry to start her on his master’s
trial.”

Adonis has never been an easy man to
understand.

“
Not at all. But he was
even harder than usual. He went out of his way not to hurt her when
she tried to escape. The Adonis we know and loathe would’ve shot
her in both legs to make it easier.”

Perhaps he has orders from the Supreme
Priest.

“
Maybe.” I wasn’t
convinced. “Anyway, I think if we can get her alone and present our
side, we’ll be able to sway her. She’d be an asset to our plans,
and your trial for her would only hasten our ability to
act.”

As long as the cost isn’t too high. We also
risk discovery once we reveal our trial to her.

“
She seems honest if
naïve. I think an honest person would side with us when she hears
the alternative.”

True. Where do you go next?

I glanced at my watch. “Downstairs,” I
replied, referring to the secret city beneath DC. “The military
intercepted a train of supplies coming from outside the wall. I’m
going to see the damage and check in with our friend.”

Ask him about the Oracle.

“
That’s a bit difficult
without telling him the truth.”

I trust your judgment.

Beautiful and powerful, the Queen was also
the best boss in the world. “I’ll be back for your dinner.”

She bowed her head, and I stood. I was the
only one who could hear her, which meant I was required to attend
every official dinner, gala, and ceremony she did. I didn’t bother
changing clothes but whirled a hooded cloak around my shoulders and
collected my weapons.

I entered her airy villa and trotted down to
the wine cellar, past the thousands of bottles of wine, and to a
secret passageway behind a wall.

Moments later, I was descending in a small
elevator into the secret city below DC. Always dark and drab, it
teemed with activity and movement. Two story buildings and city
blocks had been established in the central hub of the city located
beneath her villa.

Leaping out of the
elevator, I strode through several roads named after former Greek
kings and queens. The scent of food and gun oil were in the musty
air, and those I passed bowed their heads or greeted me with a
smile. The armies living here consisted of mostly men wearing run
down clothing. Part of the duties for those present was to spy in
DC, and vagrants made for the least noticeable spies. Each of them
wore a patch with an
M
on it when visiting underground.