My Lord Hades (3 page)

Regardless most of her knowledge came from the nymphs or Hestia. She knew the story of

her father Zeus. Rhea bore her husband, Coronus, a son, but instead of presenting the child to his father as she’d done with their other children, Rhea took the child to an island cave where he was raised to adulthood by nymphs. Zeus released Demeter and the other Olympians from Coronus’

imprisonment in Tartarus, gathering allies to his banner to challenge the elder gods for power.

For ten years now they’d squabbled for leadership like hummingbirds over a productive flower.

“You worry too much, Demeter. They may outnumber us, but we’re too evenly matched.”

And being immortal meant there were no permanent damages done. Hestia lowered her voice

and Persephone had to strain to hear her aunt’s next words. “Eris seems to think she knows someone who will turn the tide of this war.”

“Eris is a venomous bitch. I hope Zeus didn’t listen to her.”

Persephone was shocked by her mother’s language and the malice dripping from her words.

She couldn’t recall a goddess named Eris, although it seemed somehow familiar. She wasn’t about to ask them about it either and ruin the moment. Her mother would send her outside or change the topic.

Demeter glanced her way and Persephone decided it was time to remove herself from the

room. Persephone stood and headed for the other room. “I love you, Persephone.”

Persephone smiled. “I love you too. Are you heading out then?”

Demeter nodded and kissed Persephone on the cheek. “Mind your, Aunt Hestia.”

“Of course.” Persephone took the insects to the window overlooking the flower gardens and settled them on the honeysuckle creeping up the wall. Jewel crawled onto a pale pink flower with the tongues of brilliant red on the petals and a golden center and Enchantment wasn’t far behind.

Demeter lead Hestia walked out of the villa, closing the door firmly behind them. Persephone shook her head and crossed to the kitchen. Using the open window to eavesdrop upon the

conversation outside, she listened carefully. This war affected her as much as anyone and yet her mother would tell her nothing. What she learned, she overheard or the nymphs told her, but no one ever provided her with details. And unlike her mother, the nymphs didn’t care who won; they were more interested in pursuing men or running from them.

“She gave him hope for an end to this war, Demeter. Zeus and Poseidon left for the

Underworld days ago to retrieve this warrior.”

“The idiot! Did he even think to ask Eris who the man was?!”

“He was imprisoned in the darkest pit of Tartarus by Coronus for defiance in some argument.

You know Father. He cares not for justice, just his pride. And power.”

“How can a mortal help us, Hestia?”

“He’s immortal. Probably some minor Titan.”

The comment evoked a tickle of memory, a flash of a cave and a shadowy figure with

midnight eyes. The image was gone before she could grasp it.

“Or one of the older gods?” Demeter snapped. “Daemons are unpredictable.”

“Don’t be foolish. How could Coronus trick an elder god into imprisonment?”

Silence.

“Oh, Demeter, I’m sorry. I didn’t think…Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, dear one,” Demeter said. Her voice shook. “It was my own fault that Coronus

was able to…I thought her safe.”

“She was as safe as you could make her. As soon as Zeus frees this warrior, he can turn the tide of battle and bring us victory. No more war. No more Coronus. And no more worries over Persephone.”

“It’s foolhardy, Hestia. We don’t know who he is.”

“I’m sure Zeus does. Now you’d better go if you plan to return before dark.”

Persephone raced across the room with her bowl of fruit and sat at the window, taking a bite of breakfast. Maybe if she was careful, she could ask Hestia about the god. Sometimes her aunt spoke before she thought and Persephone could prod information or stories from her.

Hestia entered the house and paused. “There you are.”

Persephone looked up with a smile and a twinge of guilt, swallowing the mouthful of fruit. “I know the perfect spot for Enchantment and Jewel. The daffodil patch in the corner.”

Hestia smiled; never suspecting deviousness from her. She squelched the twinge of unease.

The only way to have a hand in her fate was too learn everything possible to her life. Her mother wanted her to remain a child forever and Persephone couldn’t be that for her.

“Will you tell me about the war?”

Hestia motioned to the fruit and gave her a pointed look. “I’ll tell you while you eat.”

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

HADES STOOD on the white sandy beach at dusk, his toes curling into the cooling warmth

as he watched Helios’ blindingly bright chariot sink into the sea. It felt good to stand on the beach and watch the tide slide inland, to feel the warmth of the sun on his pale skin.

What a welcome sight after centuries in a dank cell, removed from the world and its majesty.

He watched as the azure sky began to darken to a light indigo. He marveled as the oranges, reds, and purples disappeared, and the world became little more than shades of grays, black, and black-blue. The first star of twilight twinkled in the heavens above him.

He’d forgotten the simplest pleasures and annoyances of living, like the water caressing his toes, or the cold air on his flesh, or gritty sand slithering between his toes. He relished the feel of cool water, the darkness upon his skin, and the power surging through his veins, soothing and repairing the damage to his body, to his mind, to his soul.

This was freedom. The freedom he’d desired for so long. He could almost taste it upon his tongue, warm and welcoming. But he knew it was a dream he could only hold a little longer. He could never truly be free as long as the Titans ruled. There was much they had to atone for: the deaths of Leuce and her family; the hundreds of daemons dead in tantrums thrown by gods; the stolen power of his birthright and the forced existence without magic; and using the dead to torment him.

He could never be free until Leuce and her family were avenged and safely ensconced in the Elysian Fields, because he owed her that much. He could never be free until he let go of the past and moved toward the future, whatever that might be. He could never be free until he lived as a true Phlegethon should, mated to his equal in power and magic.

Selene rose into the night sky, her white chariot glowing brightly upon the water. He hoped the witch fell from her chariot and drowned in the dark waters of the sea. He’d never liked the snooty goddess and the feeling seemed mutual.

He lifted his face, breathing deeply of the cold salty air, before turning away from Selene’s bright face. The first and second phases were complete. By opening the gates of Tartarus, he’d released every monster the Titans had ever imprisoned. He’d released chaos and mayhem upon the world. And while the Titans ran about capturing the monsters, expending that precious power they so coveted, he’d walked into their palace and taken their weapons, hiding them throughout the world. He’d insured the Olympian’s victory.

While in their armory, he’d taken back his black armor and frightening sword, untouched by the centuries. How he would enjoy using them against the smug Titans, for tomorrow he’d face them in battle. His revenge would be swift. He would accomplish in one day what the Olympians had failed to do in ten years. He would bring the Titan Empire to its knees. He would make them pay for their mistakes.

Leaving the beach, he moved inland. He’d planned to return to Mount Olympus and confer

with Zeus on the next plan of action, but he couldn’t confine himself to the gaudy, marble monstrosity the Olympians called a palace. What was it with the Titans and the Olympians that they built such places on top of mountains?

For the most part, no one would dare defy them. They didn’t really need the security of

higher ground. It was a mere show of power and dominance.

Of course, there were the occasional idiots who dared defy the ruling faction of gods.

Coronus’ rise to power had been a greedy power play that benefited all, but then Coronus had been no better than his father. Now the Olympians, Zeus at their head, were in a power play for supremacy, fueled by the need for freedom. Hades didn’t know if Zeus would be any better than Coronus. Not that it mattered.

Coronus had overthrown his father, as Zeus was attempting to overthrow his, and the day

would come when another would rise to overthrow Zeus. It was a vicious cycle.

In his own defense, Hades’ first attempt at defiance was to protect himself. His second was to protect Leuce. However, this third attempt at rebellion was purely for revenge.

Hades wound his way along the beach and into the forest stretching the length of the beach.

He breathed in the fragrance of crushed grass and salty sea.

Soon, he’d be at peace. No war, no people, no petty gods. He was actually looking forward to his solitary life.

The soft cascade of the woman’s gentle contralto floated on the breeze, flowing over him, into him, threading its way into his soul, and awakening the Phlegethon daemon inside him. The lilting melody was one he didn’t recognize. A song of shipwrecked lovers.

He suspected there were a great many things he wouldn’t recognize. The world had changed

so much in his absence, and yet, not nearly enough.

Against his better judgment, he let the woman’s voice lure him through the trees to a small northern valley. Careful where he placed his foot, he wove his way through the loam covered path to a small clearing. He told himself he wouldn’t disturb her, and he definitely didn’t want to scare her. He just wanted a look at the woman who could awaken emotions in his heart with the music of her voice.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing, mesmerized by the dark silhouette beneath the gnarled oak tree. Back to him, her sensual body swayed to a beat only she could hear. Her movements, like the purity of the dulcet tones, wove a magical and passionate atmosphere filled with deep longing.

He shifted at the first stirs of desire in his heart. It wasn’t just the base desire of a man gone too long without a woman, although he yearned for the wealth of feminine curves revealed by the filmy white dress. But the desire of a Phlegethon to meld mind and soul and magic to his equal, something he could never have with a lesser immortal, and especially not with the newer mortal creatures. What his soul craved could only be had with another Phlegethon daemon.

Closing his eyes, and taking a firm grasp upon his desire, he reminded himself of the lessons he’d learned so very long ago when he’d been a weak, naïve adolescent who thought himself in love with a nymph named Menthe. A mere kiss had almost lead to her death.

That thought, more than any other, cemented his resolve. He was an adult now, with his full power, and he knew the passions of his Phlegethon blood could only destroy. He would leave this place and never return. He would never think of the woman again. He would clear his head and prepare his mind and body for the fight tomorrow. He would take a very cold bath.

However, rather than just flashing away, he opened his eyes to take one last look, and was lost again. Her supple, young body swayed seductively, moving with the fluid grace of a dancer as she twirled and leapt.

Her crown of lavender tumbled from her head, and the wealth of her sun-kissed hair pour

down her slender back in a red-gold wave.

He could almost feel the wealth of her hair against his naked flesh, the flare of her hips in his hands, the press of her luscious body against his, and the warmth of her mouth as he tasted her.

She would taste like honey, sweet and rich.

She bent to retrieve her crown, the creamy tops of her firm, full breasts pressed tightly against the white dress, threatening to spill out, before the veil of hair hid them from view.

What was he thinking! He had to leave now!

But despite his best intentions, he couldn’t budge. She straightened and set the crown back upon her head. Lifting the hem of her gown, she revealed the length of her pale thigh. She pivoted, beginning a new song about a meadow of flowers, a shepherd, and his maiden dear.

His breath quickened as the magic of her voice spilled over him, painting a picture of the brazen maiden and the bold shepherd meeting in the mountain meadow for a lover’s tryst.

She opened her arms, her hair streaming down her back, and embraced the cool night air. She danced with a freedom he’d never known, had never seen in another. She was so full of grace, and joy, and wild abandon. And he desired her like he’d desired no other woman.

He stepped forward, his blood boiling at the need to claim her. She represented all he needed in a mate, everything he had lost, and everything he could not have back. She could be the balm to the rage in his soul. But what could he offer her?

The hidden invitation of the song was not for daemons like him, especially coming from a

woman like her. She deserved a man who would speak to her, laugh with her, dance with her, and be with her. He could do none of those things without endangering her life. He had nothing to offer her expect a world of sorrow and pain. He would rather will himself out of existence than watch this beautiful woman die, screaming in agony.

The last thoughts gave him the strength to turn away. He wanted this child of nature to live a long and happy life before Death took her. She would marry a man who loved her, have children, and sing in the dark night without ever having met him.

Please keep her safe,
he prayed to whatever being answered the prayers of gods and daemons.
And keep her far, far away from me.

HADES GRABBED the Titan’s massive shoulder and rammed the blade of the sword

through the man’s heart. The satisfying gush of blood over his gauntlet was dampened by the knowledge that the damage wasn’t permanent and the Titan would heal.

Shoving the howling Titan from him, Hades tore the whole jagged length of the serrated