Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(92)

Persephone straightened. “Kharon, Augustus.” She glared daggers at them. “Treat my daughter right.” It wasn’t a question.

Augustus bowed his head respectfully. “Of course.”

“I’d die for Alexis,” Kharon said calmly, and Hades raised his glass to him, looking relieved. I’d forgotten he was my father’s favorite soldier.

Persephone didn’t look impressed.

As my mother disappeared into the crowd, my thoughts raced. There was nothing she could do. This was bigger than all of us. We both knew it.

The danger had reached a tipping point.

The consequences had arrived.





34


THE BATTLES WE WAGE




ALEXIS: SGC DAY 3

Sparta cheered thunderously.

Sitting between Kharon and Augustus, with my buzzing hands clasped tightly between my legs, I prayed to a god who probably despised me.

Far below, the arena was full of inky fog, so thick and dense, it looked as if black tar had been poured over the sand.

Hades—my father—stood tall in the middle, his pale hands held high above his head, blood glowing in his eyes.

There was nothing survivable about what was flowing out of Hades. It was a thick vicious flood of death.

Apparently, he’d gone easy on us in the initiation massacre.

The Cyclopes’ screams echoed, but they were barely visible in the dark fog. They were nothing but glimpses of hands tearing at skin, of flesh collapsing onto sand, of single eyes wide and terrified.

Blood splattered.

Hades—contributor of half of my genetic material—didn’t have to lift a finger as all five of them tore themselves apart.

The whole thing barely took ten minutes.

Nyx slithered around my neck as the fog pulled back into Hades with a whoosh. “That was impressive,” she hissed.

I shivered because she was right—his power was magnificently terrible.

It was a startling, graphic reminder of what it meant that I was a Chthonic heiress. What it meant that he’d made me in his image.

The same lethal energy was dormant, waiting inside of me.

SGC DAY 4

Yesterday’s symposium had passed in a blur. I didn’t remember falling asleep at night—one second I was out, the next I was awake, filled with terror.

My teeth chattered as sweat dripped down my back.

I was back in my seat in the coliseum.

Kharon and Augustus were yet again flanking me. Their thighs brushed against mine and I tried not to jolt each time.

Drums pounded and electricity hummed above the arena.

“Today’s competitor is …” Zeus paused, his voice echoing around the stadium as sparks leapt around his raised arms. He stood on the walkway that jutted out over the arena, an overseer—an emperor—commanding destruction. “EREBUS!”

The crowd lost it.

Chants echoed all around. “Primordial god of darkness … shadow hunter … nightmare harborer … bow before his shadowy plain, or YOU shall be slain!”

Erebus prowled out onto the sand, bone-white mask gleaming, tattered black cloak fluttering behind his tall figure.

He had no weapons; no visible protector; no armor. The edges of his figure blurred, as if he was transparent, and not a being of flesh and blood.

A man who was rumored to live with wolves.

“He’s so dreamy,” Helen said in the seat ahead of me as she covered her mouth. Charlie nodded in agreement beside her.

I tilted my head to the side.

I could see it.

“Oh, I could beat him,” Nyx hissed with awe as she twined slowly around my waist. “And I’m not talking about in a fight.”

I choke-coughed violently (apparently, everyone was getting more sexually aggressive these days).

Augustus smacked my back.

Steel rattled as the heavy gate on the other side of the arena slowly rose up—five Cyclopes charged out, growling with their meaty fists raised.

Erebus casually raised his hand and pointed his finger at them.

Oversized shadows distended and morphed behind each Cyclops—pure inky darkness warped and rose from the sand—sharpening into five tangible, vicious-looking knives.

The black blades hovered in the air for a second.

Erebus pulled back his raised arm as if he was tugging on a rope.

The shadows speared each Cyclops through their back, straight through their heart.

Blood sprayed as the Cyclopes dropped like rocks—dead—with a thunderous boom.

A horrible thought struck me, and I peered up through my lashes at Kharon.

His features were hard, eyes haunted.

That’s his father.

SGC DAY 5

Augustus and Kharon sat close beside me. It was Aphrodite’s round.

Our thighs were pressed together.

The three of us hadn’t spoken since yesterday when Erebus had wielded his shadows on the sands.

Now we were back for more.

Aphrodite sauntered out into the arena.

She wore a Spartan helmet. Her long braids were covered in crystals, which sparkled as she leaned down and deposited her house cat–sized sphinx protector at the edge of the sandy ring.

She patted its head, like she was making sure it stayed out of the battle.

Then she stood back up and moved to the center of the sand with a golden ax slung casually over her shoulder.