The Heart of War (26 page)

Now she did turn around to look at him standing in the shadows at the end of the hall, behind the torches burning so brightly. “Good, she deserved it. I would have done it myself but, ah, well…”

Ares got his first good look at Alena since yesterday. Her forehead was split open, as was her lip and her cheek. She had a black eye. All of which went untended while she took care of Onya. Although she was battered, Ares thought she looked quite beautiful standing there fresh from the heat of a victorious battle. This was what he had expected from Kat when he left her in charge of the island—that she would intervene, stand up, and if necessary fight for those who lived here when he could not—and she had so bitterly disappointed him. “I wanted the privilege,” Ares clarified and stepped out of the shadows. “Don’t you think I deserved that? After all they are, were, both mine.”

To do with whatever you please
, she thought but did not say. “One still remains; you should go in and sit with her.” She hadn’t seen him this morning before he left to wherever he’d gone and the seconds she saw him in the cave were a blur. Therefore, this was the first time she’d seen him in mortal street clothes. He could easily walk among Mortals and no one would ever know a thing. In fact, he looked rather handsome in the blue jeans they seemed to fit rather nicely. The hoodie was also a good fit but it would better if it weren’t covered in blood.

“Soothing wounded women isn’t exactly my forte,” Ares countered quietly as he took in the ripped and bloodied gown. Under the blood and the dirt, there were a great many dusty golden handprints on her white dress and they bothered him. Everywhere he went Apollo left that crap behind. Seemed Kat decided to end her life with truthful words rather than lies; perhaps she hoped Hades would take pity on her immortal soul, but more likely she was trying to get Alena into trouble and buy herself time along with a bit of Ares’ favor. From the looks of the remains of that dress, Apollo had not only been here, he’d had his hands all over Alena during his stay. “I think we need to talk.”

That was undeniable. “Yes, we do. First, show her she’s right about you—even if she isn’t. Go and sit with her. Fifteen minutes and she’ll be sound asleep.” Favoring her right foot and leaving little bloody footprints in her wake, Alena began to make her way down the corridor and away from Ares.

Looking down at the fresh prints, Ares called out her name in a strong voice and watched her turn around to face him. “Thank you for taking care of my Young One.” She smiled just a little then turned around again and went on her way as he teleported inside the bedroom.

2

“No, but I am still furious with them for doing this to you.” He sat his large body down on the edge of the bed and took her hand, putting the key into it as he did. “Just so you know, the men are outside for the night, I’ve slid the boulder into place. No one will get in here. No one will bother you.”

“They’re dead, aren’t they? Alena killed Nicco and Scopas.”

“Yes. Kat will never bother you again, this I can promise. Now, what can I do for you?”

Taking the big warm hand engulfing hers, she rubbed it along her cheek. “This is nice.” Onya’s reply was a little slurred as sleep began to creep over her.

“Good.” Ares had no idea of what he was supposed to say or do; he only knew what he wanted to say and what he wanted to do. He wanted to ask her if she’d seen Apollo on the island today. Wanted to ask her just what happened to her and how she allowed it. Most of those things were already answered for him thanks to his prior eavesdropping. Not to mention the earful he got from his six remaining men as he built his pyres and set the bodies ablaze. They all swore to hell and back they had nothing to do with it, they had no idea it was going to happen and if they had, they would have stopped it. He believed them when the Hind backed them up and told him she’d been watching Alena as he asked when she heard Onya scream. She interrupted Alena’s little chat with Apollo and off they went. In light of all that, Ares felt there was little left to say but there was one thing he wanted to know. “Why did you say those things about me to Alena?”

“Oh please, at your age playing stupid doesn’t suit you either but coy’s kinda cute.” Onya giggled deep in her euphoric haze. “You know you like her, too.”

At first, he was prepared to blame her behavior, in part, on the impetuousness of youth. In fact, Ares was at an age where he was beginning to believe that youth was utterly and completely wasted on the young. Then he picked up the empty teacup by the bed and sniffed deeply; valerian root mainly, it smelled badly but Alena covered that with orange peel, hops and St. John’s Wort. Not only would Onya be out in fifteen minutes she’d sleep right through the night, probably without feeling a single care in the world. That was good. Putting the cup down once more, he tucked the blankets around her. “Here you are suffering and you try to play matchmaker?” He bestowed a kiss on her forehead as he slid his hand along the curve of Onya’s bruised cheek. “I’m sorry, Onya, I never should have brought you here. You were too young, too sweet. This is my fault.” He meant that. Alena said it was her fault, but she was wrong. If he’d never brought Onya here, this would not have happened to her. He had all the money he could ever want; he should have just given her a hefty sum and let her live a good life in a safe place she could call her own home. He should send her back to the Mortal World with that load of money so she could have that good life. If he could trust anyone to keep the secret of his existence, it was she. “I promised to protect you and I failed you.” What Kat and the others didn’t know, and Ares would never forget, was Ares kept Onya away from the other men because they terrified her. The day after her initiation Ares found her, a terrified sixteen year-old girl—far too young to be here with him and to live this way—weeping by the waterfall. That in itself was not anything far out of the ordinary, often young women had second thoughts the day after they had been the object of an orgy. She had begged him not to make her do that again or to kill her if he could not promise this. She would do whatever he wanted with him and the women, but not the men. This was not an odd request under such circumstances and one he’d heard a few dozen times before, but this time it was followed by the news of her uncle and the baby she lost. In utter desperation, she cried that she would rather be dead than have them crawling all over her ever again. Onya had been so serious that Ares promised not to make her go through it again. He would rather have her alive than dead.

Onya never saw Ares look so sad, upset, or sincere. It took some effort now that the herbs were gently taking hold, but Onya sat up and put her arms around his neck. “You’re really not all bad, you know that, right?”

“If you say so.” Ares returned the embrace. “You know I care for you, don’t you? I care deeply for you.”

Ares cared
for
her, yes he did, Onya was sure of that. He cared if she was well, if she was sick, if she was injured, if she was on her cycle—well, not so much about that one—but that was the extent of it. More the way would care
for
a pet than the way one would care
about
a lover. She often thought if one day he should wash her, brush her, and scratch her behind the ear she would not be surprised. There was a huge difference between caring for your pet and making sure it was happy, healthy, well-fed, and caring about the person with whom you shared your bed. When Onya first came here such trivialities seemed, well, trivial. Now that she was getting to be just a little bit older, maybe such things were important after all. This seemed to be what Alena was asking herself. Onya felt that Alena did not want to be treated like the family Saint Bernard or the Master’s Pump. Onya couldn’t say she blamed her. “I know.”

“Do you want me to stay here with you? I’ll hold you close and keep watch over you all through the night.” That wasn’t what he wanted but he would do it. Besides, if her eyes and her sleepy tone of voice were any indication, Alena was quite right. Soon Onya would be asleep and he could sneak out of this bed.

“No.” She snuggled down under the soft blankets, keeping his hand to her cheek. “Good night, my Lord.”

Turning down the oil lamp by the bed, he kissed her cheek before getting up and using his magick to stoke the fire for her. “Sleep well, Onya. If you need me I am here.”

Onya sighed as she snuggled her face against the soft pillow and muttered, “Be nice to her. Don’t blow it.”

3

Shaking his grinning head, Ares disappeared from the bedroom and reappeared in his own where he expected to find Alena waiting for him, but the room was empty. The footlocker he found earlier was at the foot of the bed unopened. His remaining women were in their chamber. Even with the door closed he could hear them talking about what happened today and where this left all of them. Now they had no leader, no Den Mother—not that Kat ever really filled that bill—the hierarchy was in a tumble and they were unsure what to do. Strange, he didn’t hear one of them say they were sorry to see Kat go, they would miss her, or even that they had liked her. They seemed more relieved than anything that Kat was no longer among them. As to Nicco and Scopas, he heard conversations of assholes, pricks, and only being upset that Alena didn’t get to them sooner. Ares knew Kat wasn’t liked very much by the women, but he’d been unaware they thought so little of his two best guards or that they had caused the women so much trouble over the years.

Opening the bedroom door, he went down the long narrow staircase to the throne room, wondering what little corner of his home Alena decided to make her bed in for the night. He almost walked right past her; if his fine tuned ears hadn’t caught the subtle sound of her labored breathing, he would have done just that. She’d hidden herself on the other side of his throne, by the fire. When he looked over the arm he saw her pressed against the bones with her knees huddled up to her chin. To his unamused surprise, she had the damn chastity belt in her hand.

“What are you doing?”

Alena let out a little cry as his face came into view; it descended from above and was upside down. For the very first time, for her to look him in the eye, she had to look down. It took her a moment to realize he was kneeling on the throne above her and bending downward. “Will you put this back on me?” she stuttered as her eyes focused. A few moments ago, she’d tried to do it herself but it wouldn’t lock for her.

Ares looked at her closely and took his time in answering. Her stormy eyes glimmered with tears as she sat there shaking. The endorphins that had kept her running and charging ahead without feeling a thing were fleeing; dark circles were forming under those lost eyes, normally rosy cheeks were ashen, streaked with tears, dirt and blood, and had a golden-bronze shimmer to them where Apollo had touched her jaw and her cheek. “Please?”

“No. Don’t ask me that again.” Ares snatched it out of her hand and tossed it into the fire. It landed on top of the burning logs and simply sat there while the flames licked it. “You can’t hide behind that forever, Alena. Do you want to spend the rest of your life a prisoner to Cernunnos even though he is nowhere to be seen?” Ares chided.

“It won’t melt. It won’t burn.” Alena wasn’t looking at him; she was looking past him again. Ares turned his head toward the fire; maybe it just wasn’t hot enough. Balling up his fist and shaking it twice in the air, Ares let a fireball fly into the hearth straight at the belt. There was a brief explosion as the flames leapt high into the air, up the flue and out into the room towards them. The belt remained. Fine. Ares snorted a breath and tried again with more force. He let the flame extend from his hand, not in a huge ball but in a long stream blasted right on the wretched thing until both he and Alena began to sweat from the heat.

Alena shrugged her shoulders and turned her watery eyes to him. “It’ll still be there in the morning even if you let it burn all night.”

“You’ll get it then?” She had one of widest streaks of defiance he’d ever come across and she was sneaky to boot. Ares reached for the tongs and plucked the hot metal from the fire before dropping it onto the stone hearth.

“Because it is. I heal faster than any Mortal does and faster than you, I would guess, but I still burn. I can still be cut, suffer illness. Just because these things won’t kill doesn’t mean they’re any less painful—or pleasurable—for the short time they last.” Like a magician, Ares held his other hand up before her eyes and his fingertips burst into flames burning on five candles. “The fire will never burn me, I can walk through flame and not be touched, and this is my Blessing just as my turning into the Wolf is a Blessing. But the hot metal,” the flaming fingertips gently sloped downward to point at the belt, “that’s a different story.”

Watching the fire dance before her eyes, Alena reached out for the flaming hand and brought it upward between them so that it lit up both their faces. “And your Curse, my Lord? What would that be?” she whispered as her breath met the flames, making them flicker before it caressed his face.