Styxx (DH #33) (96 page)

Styxx barely caught himself before he responded to her thought.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I was sleeping.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Get out was what she meant. He’d overstayed his welcome. Besides, if Acheron learned of his presence, there was no telling what he might do to him given his hatred. “I’ll go back to my island. Sorry I disturbed you. I’ll tell Urian not to bring me any more food.” He glanced meaningfully to his clothes that were set on the table behind her as he lifted his sheet higher. “But I can’t leave until you allow me to dress.”

“I wasn’t telling you to leave or to stop getting food. I was teasing about that.”

“Oh. I’m not used to being teased.”

“Are you all right?”

No, he wasn’t. Styxx choked on the grief and sadness that her kindness evoked. He hadn’t interacted with a woman like this since Beth. Nor had any woman touched him like that since the day she’d left to go to Egypt. And as bad as the memories had been, having awakened to Danger rammed the full weight of his loss down his throat.

“Fine,” he breathed. But he wasn’t fine. He hadn’t been for thousands of years.

She moved to touch him.

Styxx flinched away from her. “Please don’t.” It hurt too much for a woman to be this close to him, and for her to lay her hand on his skin.…

He’d rather have the priests and their hot brands.

Finally, she stepped back from the bed. “Would you like for me to make you breakfast while you dress?”

“Thank you, but I don’t want you to trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble. Trust me. You’ll be a lot easier to feed than two Charonte. It’ll be waiting on you when you finish.” She vanished before he could thank her again.

*   *   *

D
anger paused by
the boxes of foodstuffs as she glanced back to the room where she’d found Styxx. Acheron had ordered her to stay away from him. He’d been emphatic that she not go near Styxx’s island.

But why?

He wasn’t the monster Acheron had made him out to be. He was actually rather polite and bashful. Hardly the cocky asshole Acheron and Alexion called him.

She smiled as she saw the way he’d organized his food. Everything was meticulously placed, but then that made sense since he didn’t have a lot to occupy himself with.

What did he do all day? There were no books, instruments, or anything of that nature. He had a small collection of handmade weapons and tools. And one really lovely bowl that had been carved out of stone.

She let out a low whistle as she ran her hand over the smooth surface. “You are incredibly talented.” He’d even chiseled out a Greek key pattern around the edge of it.

Her smile faded as she realized his food consisted of nothing but Doomsday prep items. Everything was designed to be reconstituted or was dried, with a few fresh vegetables and fruits.

And one box of Simi’s Ding Dongs.

“This is not meal worthy.” She flashed herself back to the kitchen where she and Alexion cooked for Simi and Xirena, and Urian whenever he was home. As quickly as she could, she fried Styxx two eggs and some bacon and made a small stack of pancakes. Grabbing a glass of milk, she returned to him.

She’d just set it out on the table when he came through the door and paused.

His eyes lit up like Simi’s whenever they had Diamonique on QVC. “Eggs and bacon?”

“Yes.”

Even though he didn’t smile, the joy in those electric blue eyes warmed her. But he didn’t come any closer. Curious about that, she stepped away from the table.

Only when she was out of reach did he move to sit.

“It smells delicious. Thank you. I can’t remember the last time I tasted eggs or bacon.”

When he went to eat the pancakes like bread, she stopped him. “They’re pancakes.”

“Okay.” He folded it to eat.

She bit back her smile. “It’s not a pita, sweetie. You put syrup on it and cut it up.”

He frowned as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “Syrup?”

They must not have had that in his day. She lifted the small container.

His scowl deepened. “Dark honey?”

“No. It’s sweet like honey, but it’s maple syrup.” She poured it over the pancakes for him.

He hesitated before he tried it then he flashed a grin at her. “Who wants Ding Dongs when they can eat this?”

She laughed at his unexpected enthusiasm.

Then he lifted the milk and sniffed it. “Cow?”

“Um … yeah.” What did he think it was?

His expression said it was ambrosia to him. He took a deep drink. “I haven’t had cow milk since … I can’t even remember.”

Danger watched him. It was so disconcerting to see someone who looked so similar to Acheron and yet was so different. And as she studied him, she realized his short hair was really butchered and uneven.

Like he cut it with one of his handmade stone knives.

“Do you cut your own hair?”

He set his fork down and touched it self-consciously. “I’m sorry if it offends you. I don’t have shears.”

“It doesn’t offend me. If you like, I could even it up for you.”

His mood was much more somber as he returned to eating. “It doesn’t matter. No one will see it.”

Tears gathered in her eyes at his stoic tone. “I really don’t mind. I cut Alexion’s all the time.”

Styxx considered it. He could only imagine how awful his hair must look to her, but honestly, he didn’t want her touching him. “It’s all right. I don’t want to be any more trouble.” He got up to wash his plate.

“Here,” she said, holding her hand out. “I’ll take it.”

He hesitated before he gave it to her. “Thank you for your kindness. The food was delicious, and I really appreciate the gift.”

Her heart aching for him, Danger inclined her head. “You’re very welcome.” Gathering up the dishes, she returned to the main hall.

“Where have you been?”

She paused as Alexion joined her in the kitchen. “I met Styxx.”

He growled deep in his throat.

She held her hand up to stop him from saying a word. “Have you ever met the man?”

“Of course not. He’s an arrogant asshole.”

“Before you start trash-talking his character, sweetie, you should meet him. Believe me, I understand loyalty to Acheron. I have it, too, and I know what I owe the big guy. However, Styxx isn’t the three-horned demon you think he is either. Did you know he had a wife and child?”

Alexion looked as stunned as she’d been. “No.”

“What are we talking about?” Urian asked as he joined them. “Do I smell bacon?”

She sighed irritably. “Teach a Daimon to eat real food and he’s impossible.” She went to make more for him. “We were talking about your houseguest you didn’t mention feeding.”

Urian’s eyes widened. “Um…”

“Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble. I was just telling Alexion that I think there’s a lot more to him than we’ve been told.”

Urian nodded. “No shit, right? You know who he is?” he asked Alexion.

He gave Urian a droll stare. “Acheron’s brother.”

One Urian returned full force. “You ever heard of the Stygian Omada?”

“I’m Groesian. Of course I’ve heard of it. Who hasn’t?”

Danger looked up from the frying bacon. “Well, I’m French and confused. What’s the Stygian Armada—”

“Stygian O … mada,” Urian repeated.

“They were a legendary army that waged war against Atlantis,” Alexion explained. “In all of Greek history, it was the only army that ever fought on Atlantean soil and won. They were practically on the main steps of the palace when they were called back to Greece for peace talks.”

“Yeah.” Urian jerked his chin in the direction of the temple where Styxx was staying. “And brother Styxx was their general the army was named for.”

“Bullshit!” Alexion roared in denial.

“No. Real. I saw the battle scars on him myself. Ash has always said he was from Atlantis. He’s never mentioned the Greek city-state he was born in so I didn’t know.… But Styxx is Styxx of Didymos.”

Alexion gaped. “You’re shitting me.”

Urian shook his head sarcastically.

“Again, French Revolution here.
Les Mis,
I get. This…” She wagged the spatula. “My extent of Greek history is
Troy
with Brad Pitt and,” she looked over at Alexion, “Mr. Luscious in his armor.”

Alexion went bug-eyed. “Please don’t call me that in front of Urian.”

Urian laughed then sobered and explained it to her. “Didymos was the Athens of its day, and Athens was not much more than a big village back then. The largest and strongest of the Greek city-states, Didymos was two border islands that buffered the rest of Greece from Atlantis. And Styxx was the greatest, most successful general in their long and prestigious military history. His battle tactics and the way he ran his army were studied extensively by the soldiers of my time. We all wanted to grow up and be him. In fact, the way he trained, and the principles his mentor taught him were the foundation of the Spartans and their military ethics. That’s how good he was. But in all my readings about Didymos and Styxx, I never saw more than one prince mentioned.… Him. And nothing of a princess in anything, not that that was unusual.” He held his hand up to Danger to stop her before she spoke. “And don’t lecture me on ancient stupidity and their treatment of women.… I am not personally responsible for misogynistic ancient writers just because I happen to be male.”

He looked back at Alexion and resumed their discussion. “Because of that, and the fact that he and Ash were babies when they died, I never made the connection that Acheron’s brother Styxx was the leader of the famed Stygian League.”

Alexion snorted. “That explains his arrogance.”

“But he’s not arrogant,” Urian and Danger said simultaneously.

“Yeah,” Urian said, grabbing a slice of bacon, “what she said.”

She put more bacon on a plate for Urian. “He’s sweet, Alexion. Really sweet.”

Swallowing his bacon, Urian snorted. “I would not use that word myself for him. He’s lethal and you can’t miss it, but I’ll be honest. I’d call Ash arrogant before I would Styxx.”

Alexion sucked his breath in sharply. “Don’t let Acheron hear you say that.”

“I know. Believe me.” Urian sighed heavily. “Man, I don’t know what happened between them, but it’s a damn shame. Can you imagine having Styxx of Didymos train you to fight?”

“Be like taking lessons from Achilles or Alexander the Great.”

“That settles it then,” Danger said as she put the uncooked bacon back in the refrigerator.

“What?” Urian asked.

“We’ve got to reconcile them.”

Alexion burst out laughing. “That is a pipe dream, honey. I’ve known Acheron for over nine thousand years. And it will be freezing on the equator before Acheron forgives Styxx for what he did.”

She shrugged. “Well, you know what they say—”

Urian passed a knowing stare to Alexion. “We who are about to die, salute you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. Over, under, around, or through, there’s always a way.”

Urian scoffed at her optimism. “Unless the rock falls on you while you’re trying to go under it. Then you’re toast.”

Alexion laughed. “Well, she is French.”

November 2, 2008

Styxx lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. One of the neatest parts about Agriosa’s temple was the way moonlight reflected in through the windows to cast shadows around the room. Or maybe he was so bored as to see images where there weren’t any.

The one on the ceiling right now reminded him of his phoenix emblem.

Yeah, he was definitely imagining things.

Sighing, he reached over to the table and pulled the bath salts to him. He took a small amount and rubbed them across his face so that he could smell Bethany’s scent and pretend for one moment that she was by his side. In his mind, he could see her in her white dance outfit as she twirled and danced for him with her veils.

She’d tried to tie one to his wrist once, and he’d panicked so badly that it had scared her. But if he could have that one afternoon back, he’d gladly let her chain him to her bed.

His breathing ragged, he was so hard and aching—so damn horny, he couldn’t stand it. He pressed his hand to his swollen cock, wishing he could go back in time and change things.

He should have thrown her over his shoulder and run away with her like a caveman on the first day they met.

“I need you, Beth,” he whispered. She had always been the better part of him.

No, the best part.

Holding on to an image of her, he slowly thrust himself against his hand. But as he tried to find release, other memories surged to replace the tender ones of Bethany.

Fucking Greek whore!

Piece of Ariclean shit!

Tell me how much of a hero do you feel like now that you’re facedown with my cock in your ass, huh, prince?

Styxx bellowed in agony as he shot from the bed. Why couldn’t the voices of the past leave him alone? Why?

Unable to stand it, he ran to the pool and threw himself into it, hoping to drown out the voices that haunted him. As fast and furious as he could, he swam laps until his body was exhausted. Only when he was on the verge of collapse did he find any kind of peace.

His arms trembling from overuse, he pulled himself out of the water and lay on the frigid marble floor. Breathing heavily, he looked up at the ceiling where he saw the image of an Atlantean soldier in armor standing next to a woman who held his hoplon. She had her hand on his arm as they gazed silently at each other.

As he stared at it, he remembered the story of Bathymaas and Aricles that he’d been told in Atlantis. Perhaps that was the curse of his family. Their entire house had been founded on pain. On a woman’s broken heart.

Now that he thought about it, none of his paternal relatives had ever had a happy marriage. After birthing his father, uncle, and aunt, his grandmother had taken her daughter and returned to her native Athens to never set foot again in Didymos, or see her husband.

He didn’t even want to contemplate the misery of his parents’ marriage. The death of his father’s first wife while in the middle of labor …