“Well, well,
boy
talk? I wonder if it’s anywhere nearly as thrilling as girl talk,” Daphne asked, waltzing right up to Leo. The king stood taller, more handsome somehow, and his joy at her unexpected arrival sparkled in his eyes.
She squared herself in front of the commander, smiling up at him. Her hair was different—again. Long past her shoulders, the trademark cobalt blue strands were there, but this time she’d added crimson, too.
Crimson for Spartan kings
, Ari thought, smiling despite all the struggles that lay ahead.
“You knew I needed you,” Leo said, and although his hand moved slightly, reaching, he did not touch her.
But she solved that problem, looping an arm through his. “Come,” she said soothingly. “Let’s inspect your wards, good king.”
With a quick glance around, Leonidas pulled her off to the side. Ari heard them murmuring low, and although he didn’t eavesdrop—he would never do anything as obnoxious or rude as that—he couldn’t help catching a few passing words between the couple.
“I thought you would not be with me,” Leo said in a low voice.
“I’m starting to think I cannot be anywhere else,” came her reply.
“But your brother?” He searched her face, and Ari didn’t like the genuine concern he saw in their king’s eyes.
She chewed on her lip, but then River was approaching them, calling out.
“We’ll talk later,” she said in a rush.
With a bright voice and even brighter expression, Daphne turned to greet River. Nikos was lumbering behind him, looking unhappy.
“I told him to stay back from the fires,” Nik complained, walking faster because River had broken out in a run. “I told him that it’s dangerous for a
mortal
to go near something so
powerful
,” Nikos continued. “And you are mortal now, River. Don’t forget that.”
River ignored him completely, making a beeline for the rest of them. “I just realized something, Leonidas. Ari, come closer.” He was waving his hands, all dramatic like he did sometimes when he was worked up. “We all know that this power I once carried caused me plenty of issues over time. The violence, the . . . other things.” River blushed slightly, avoiding the Oracle’s eyes.
“Physical urges,” Ari volunteered, all helpful like.
River nodded, still flushing. “Ari, I more than anyone realize how much you’ve had to adapt to. So I started thinking. There’s no way that the demon caused this breakdown. She was here last night, again all this morning, and the wards were fine. It has to be something to do with your new power. And yet . . .” River stared at the wards, puzzling over something else that had occurred. “And yet you’ve been here for months, too, ever since accepting our exchange. So you can’t be the cause, or it would’ve happened before tonight.”
“What are you saying, River man?” Ari asked, not sure what his friend was trying to explain.
“That there’s a way to destroy the demon inside Juliana.” River’s expression became intent. “Come on inside and I’ll explain.”
River started walking toward the house, but Ari caught his arm. “I need to know now. . . . If it means Jules is gonna die, I need to know right now.” He couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice or the tears from stinging his eyes.
But his friend clasped his shoulder, embracing him. “Friend, you’ve always had my back. This time? Let me cover yours . . . and Juliana’s. For once, let all of us step up for
you
.”
Leo had ushered Ari and River into his study, closing the door with a heavy click. They now sat in front of the king’s desk, and Leo settled across from them.
“Okay, so my theory.” River pressed his palms together, glancing between Ari and Leonidas. “It’s certainly radical, but it would explain the reaction we’re seeing with the wards, all around the property.”
River leaned forward, placing his palms on the edge of Leonidas’s desk. “Sir, I believe the demon inside of Juliana is reacting to Ari’s power. He and Juliana are . . . well, they’re obviously close, and we know that a demon wouldn’t exactly enjoy cohabitating with a demigod. Or enduring the experience of love, either.”
“You think Layla’s aware when Jules and I are . . . well, you know?” Ari asked, mortified. He wasn’t gonna go there and picture that kind of uninvited sharing, not with the vixen he’d met tonight at the Crab Shack.
“I think you have a god’s power—and that could mean, especially given your closeness to Juliana herself—well, that you could free Juliana from the demon’s hold. Because of your gifts.”
Ari whistled despite himself. “You’re saying I’ve got the power to destroy this mean Little Djinni Who Could? That I could help root her out of Jules’s body?”
“Maybe. It seems that you two are certainly creating a seismic reaction, no?” River asked.
Ari leaned his head back, remembering the conversation he’d had with Mason until all hell—literally—broke loose.
“Mason Angel,” he said.
“He thought she was a demon,” Leonidas pointed out. “Is that why you mention him?”
Aristos shook his head. “No, he’s got a book,
The Final Crossing
, and it talks about the gods and their relationship with Djinn. There’s a special connection with Ares, something beyond his alliance with Sable. And that means River is right, about the power inside of me being able to combat the demon.”
Ari locked his fingers behind his head, leaning back in satisfaction. He knew they were going to be impressed with his deductive analysis.
Unfortunately, no dice. River spoke first. “I don’t get it.”
“I have some of Ares’ power inside of me—that Olympian . . .” Ari reached for the right word, actually grasping his hand at the air. “Creativity. And that really ought to mean—”
Leonidas stood regally. “That you have the power to destroy her as well.”
“Bingo!” Ari cried, his heart soaring as he realized he could free Juliana. “Newton said it, right? Balance. The equal and opposite action to the creative god’s power inside of me is destruction, or some such shit.” Then, remembering to show a little bit of respect, he muttered an apology.
Leo was unfazed, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “But we need Mason Angel’s help, since he’s the one who understands the book. Otherwise, Aristos . . . you might well destroy the one you love as you attempt to strike down her demon. Mason’s knowledge of the text will be crucial, so it’s good that we are relocating to the Angel plantation, where we’ll have access to their full library of lore.”
Chapter 35
J
uliana folded the last of her new clothes into one of Emma’s valises, and then reached to add Shay’s sketch to the bag’s contents.
“You’ve already been here long enough to have a suitcase full of clothes?” Mason asked.
Jules looked up, startled to find him standing inside the open doorway to her room. Although he had a friendly expression on his face, his unexpected arrival caused her stomach to knot. He was a hunter, after all. True, he had promised to help her, but she hadn’t yet been alone with him—and he despised Layla.
Perhaps he doesn’t mean to protect me, after all
, she thought, panicking.
“There’s something I need to do, Juliana,” he told her, taking several steps toward her.
Her heart pounded, and she backed up several steps of her own.
“Juliana,” he said, advancing even closer—and much faster.
She scuttled toward the window, but he tracked with the move, his expression intently focused on her. “Juliana, stop,” he said firmly.
“Please . . . don’t,” she managed to say, her hand tightening around the sketch she still held in her hand.
“Don’t what?” he asked with a confused expression. Then his eyes grew much wider. “I’m not here to hurt you! Good Lord, I promised to protect you, and I meant it.”
She released a long sigh. “I assumed . . .”
“The ‘something’ I gotta do is this,” he said, gesturing toward the sketch in her hands. “I need to see what my sis drew earlier.”
She handed him the picture, watching his face to see how he reacted. His green eyes swept over the page, taking in the details; then he looked up. “This is from your perspective. I mean, you aren’t in the picture, so it’s a depiction of what you saw. The view through your eyes.”
She nodded. “I couldn’t remember much about the night, not until Shay drew that. After, I went into a trance state and I traveled back to the moment—as if it were literally happening, I mean. That man? He did something evil to me, Mason.”
He looked up in surprise. “Evil how?”
“He put his hands on me and, it’s hard to describe, but I believe he . . . well, he willed my death. He compelled me to die. I believe he forced me—somehow—to drown myself in the river.”
“But how could he take away your free will? Make you kill yourself?”
“He mentioned a curse.”
Mason ran a hand over his face, releasing a long, heavy breath. “Not. Good,” he said. “Can you tell me exactly what he said?”
She tried to recall the precise words, but the trance state had been unnatural and frightening. “He used the word
curse
. Said the curse he placed on me would live, and live beyond the grave. That it would kill me . . . to kill Ari’s soul.”
“Losing you sure did a number on him,” Mason agreed. “And you didn’t go to heaven after your death. . . . You wandered in torment, didn’t you?”
She shook her head. “I chose to stay. I told Aristos that there was a moment when . . . I stayed to find him. I don’t remember much about it, but I know that I stayed to search for Ari.”
“Still, that curse—I do think it lived beyond the grave, Juliana. And I’m sorry, but I also think it’s why you’ve got this problem with the demon. There was an opening for her to do her work, to fool you . . . a spiritual mark on you, so to speak.”
Then Jules remembered another part of the vision. “Oh, and he said something else. About death to the voice of life, to every woman of my . . . heritage. That was the word he used.”
“Are you sure?” Mason asked. His voice was tense, his expression alarmed.
She nodded her head. “Absolutely.”
“Then we’ve got an even bigger problem,” he said. “Cause that means Shay, Emma, Sophie? They’re all under the curse, too.”
Ari came into the room. “What curse are you talking about?”
Mason handed him the sketch, and Juliana explained, “Shay drew that earlier, darling. It’s the moment when you came to my balcony. Look, that man is in the picture, too.”
Ari cursed in Greek, eyes wide and filled with fury. “The bastard!”
“You know the guy?” Mace asked, but Juliana’s suspicions were now confirmed.
Ari waved the sketch at them. “Caesar Vaella. This is him. The man I was pursuing here in Savannah when I first met Juliana. He got away from me back then, just seemed to vanish around the same time Jules died. Now I know why—because he’d targeted her. And he did
that
to drive me away from Savannah.”
“He used her,” Mason agreed, “to get to you.”
“Exactly.” Ari pressed his face against the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Jules. So sorry that I put you in that kind of danger. That you suffered and died because of my efforts to stop that freak.”
“I told you earlier—you cannot blame yourself, Ari. I loved you—I still love you. That was worth any price.”
Mace cut in. “The price is still being paid, y’all,” he said. “That curse he put on her? It’s still on her head, and that’s giving the demon a foothold. We gotta break that thing if there’s any hope of routing the Djinn.”
“Uh, Mace,” Ari said, still holding Jules close in his arms. “We know her name now.”
“What?” he roared. “If you do, then we can command her, hopefully exorcise her.”
Ari shook his head. “Yeah, but I’m not sure
Layla
would give us her true name.”
“Layla,” Mason repeated with a dark laugh. “Was somebody an Eric Clapton fan over in demonville?”
“Think you got your order wrong there, bud. The Djinn are ancient.”
“I was kidding,” Mace said. “I know Layla’s Persian, too. Any chance she’d have given us her true name?”
“Only one way to find out,” Ari said. “That’s by trying to use it.”
“Yeah, but we gotta work on that curse first, or she ain’t going nowhere. Trust me on that one.”
“So I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Daphne said, walking to the bookshelf in Leo’s study, thumbing over the various volumes.
Such a brilliant, smart man
, she thought, overwhelmed with melancholy. All his knowledge would die with him. His memories of important, heroic battles, his philosophy of leadership, all of that would vanish from the earth.
But when would that be? Next month? Another hundred years from now? She couldn’t bear the thought of revealing what she now saw written plainly on his handsome, weathered face, the visible proof that her brother was fulfilling his threat.
“Yes, my beautiful king,” she continued, retrieving his beloved volume of Herodotus. “A lot of thinking, and although sometimes that’s dangerous, in this case, no.”
He was behind her then, hands snaking down to grasp her hips. “Whenever you think too much, you always decide to stay away, and that’s very dangerous,” he rumbled against her ear, trailing kisses down onto her nape. “Think with this body, my body. Let’s join those thoughts together and reach a brand new conclusion,” he told her hungrily. “One that includes more of this.”
He pressed up behind her, and she could feel his full-on arousal, that he was hard and thick for her and not trying to hide it this time. In fact, he seemed eager for her to feel his manhood completely. “I’m done with being polite and kingly, for I am no boy. Not even a young man,” he added. “I must have you, Daphne. This man’s body has need of you, burning, aching need, and it must be slaked. Tell me you want me, too.” He nibbled on her ear and pressed his groin flush against her backside. “You feel how badly I want you.”