Mystic Ink (15 page)

Maybe it was the tone in his voice or the look in his eyes, and he really didn’t care which, but when Nix nodded, he expelled a huge breath.

Nix turned away and straightened her back. She faced Aurelia and in a clear, loud voice proclaimed, “As a Guardian of the Underworld, I claim neutrality.”

Aurelia started at the statement, but only for a moment. She gave Cal an approving nod. “Very shrewd, brother.” Facing the circle, Aurelia took Nix by the hand. “Neutrality is granted. The Nereid is under my protection. Anyone who moves against her attacks me as well.”

Solitary applause echoed in the vast chamber. “Stunning move, Calder.” The words were spoken by Chaos, a total bastard. In personality and birth.

“I totally agree, Chaos. It seems our little brother is getting smarter as he ages.” Strife moved out of the shadow to join Chaos.

Cal inwardly groaned. Great. Just great. Could he be any more fucked? Strife and Chaos were the two most psychopathic children of Ares.

Strife smoothed down the lapels of his designer suit with long elegant fingers. “Nice of Father to include a guest. Too bad we can’t play with her.” On the surface, Strife appeared handsome, even desirable. If the polished, investment banker type was your thing. His tan, golden skin was devoid of wrinkles and other worldly imperfections. He wore his dark brown hair neat and short to match his efficiently pressed clothes.

Cal knew first hand that Strife worked his disruptive machinations behind the scenes. His MO was to create turmoil. A subtle master of manipulation, he specialized in rumors, gossip, and innuendo. Dangerous and sneaky, like a fatal disease spreading through a population, Strife had caused revolutions by riling the masses to dissatisfaction.

“Are you going to get your hands dirty this time? Or will you let Chaos do all the dirty work as usual?” Cal shot back.

“Tsk, tsk, little brother.” Strife removed his jacket, folded it precisely, and handed it to one of the siblings. He rolled up his sleeves. “Father says you are long overdue in receiving your reminder.”

Chaos erupted in laughter. “Is that fear I see on your face, Calder?”

“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you how scared I am?” Cal hoped Chaos would accept the offer. He’d like to choke his half-brother with the spiked collar around his neck. Where Strife was restrained, Chaos was plain over the top ridiculous. All black leather, studs, and punk attitude. He kept his blond hair shorn to his skull, the better to display the death’s head tattoo on his head.

And unlike Strife, Chaos worked openly, relishing in the everyday turmoil of the mortal world. Whether there was a border skirmish or flat out war, Chaos stood proudly by Ares’ side, stirring up trouble. He and Strife often worked in tandem, churning up the populace, then enjoying the fruits of their labor—suffering and destruction.

Granted, they could only work in small scale. The Delian League kept them mostly contained. Another point of contention in the family. Cal was viewed as a traitor to the clan since he didn’t engage in some form of cutthroat activity.

“I’m so ready to whip your ass, Cal. Let’s go.” Chaos stripped off his leather coat and dumped it on the floor. His naked chest sported piercings and a multitude of battle scars.

“Children, children. None of that in front of our guest,” Ares said, appearing in the center of the circle.

Nix scowled from the sidelines, clearly unimpressed by his father’s godly physique. At six foot eight, Ares commanded the room, both in attitude and physical perfection. Ares had grown a goatee since Cal had last seen him. Today his long, black hair was restrained into a slick ponytail.

A murderous urge took hold. Cal wanted to rip off his father’s head. How dare he summon him and Nix? For putting Nix in harm’s way, Cal would—

Cal took several deep breaths, trying to clear away Strife and Chaos’ influence. Their magic was insidious, and he should have been immune to it. He watched Nix out of the corner of his eye. His male protective instincts were all fired up. This was the worst place for anyone to know his true feelings. If they were discovered, he wasn’t sure if immunity would protect her. Strife and Chaos would pounce.

“Father, why am I here?” Cal asked.

Ares manifested two inches from his face. “Because I wanted you here.”

The siblings laughed. An awful chorus. Animalistic energy laced around the room. They were like jackals waiting for the spoils of the kill. The desire for destruction danced in Cal’s blood.

Cal fought the urge, swallowing the bloodlust. “Yeah, and as I explained on the phone, we’re in the middle of an investigation. Nereus—”

“Nereus can take it up with me if he wants,” Ares said dismissively. “You owe me your allegiance first.”

Gods, why did they keep having this argument over and over again? “Father, you swore a blood oath to leave me alone on this matter.” Heat rose up the back of Cal’s collar. The flame in his blood was building.

“True, but your brothers, Strife and Chaos, have reminded me that you are still part of the fold.”

Cal refused to look at them. If he turned around and saw their smug smiles, he would lose it. And if he did attack his brothers, then they would all have to fight until the last warrior was left standing. In this case, it would be two against one. That was how the chips landed in the Ares family. If you took on two or more opponents at once, you fought them both.

But that didn’t stay his hand. He was missing his soul. He could be killed and he wouldn’t face a mortal death. He would spend eternity as a shade. A fate worse than death.

“That may be true, but I swore a blood oath to the Delian League. My allegiance is to justice and order,” Cal said placidly, his tone even and measured, though his pulse pounded in his ears.

“Listen to him. He sounds like a mortal superhero,” Strife called out.

“Or a coward,” Chaos sneered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nix stiffen. Aurelia calmed her with a furtive whisper. He owed his sister when this was over.

“Father, I will ask again. Why am I here?”

“If you do not want to swear allegiance to me, then you will offer me equivalent flesh and blood.” A whip manifested in Ares hand. Metal barbs dangled from the end. Cal had survived its bite before. He wasn’t so sure he would this time.

“Cal, no!” Nix stepped forward, but was quickly restrained by Aurelia.

Ares’ attention switched to Nix. “Ah, yes, the little water pistol.”

“Leave her out of this,” Cal warned. “I’ll agree to your terms, but I have a condition, too.”

To Cal’s surprise, Ares didn’t laugh. He seemed thoughtful. “I see time in the mortal realm has taught you a few things. All right, let’s hear it.”

“It’s for your ears alone,” Cal insisted.

“Fine.” Ares enclosed them behind a barrier. Time outside the sphere stopped. Everyone outside the circle was frozen. Ares snapped his fingers. “Let’s not forget your little firecracker.”

Nix popped into the bubble, took one look at Ares and lunged for him. Cal captured her in his arms and pulled her into his chest. “Trust me. Remember?” She stilled, and he relaxed his arms, but didn’t let her go.

“What the fuck, Dad?” Cal blurted out. “Why are you doing this? I thought we made peace over this.”

Ares held up his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. Chaos and Strife maneuvered me into this position. I must be getting soft.” He waved his hand dismissively at the thought. “Anyhow, I’m not reneging on my deal with Nereus. How is my beloved black sheep?” Ares eyeballed Cal’s body. If he was dismayed by Cal’s lack of a soul, he didn’t show it. “I see the Delian League has done wonders for your health.”

Cal didn’t react to the criticism. He had heard most of it before. “We’re here at your request. What do you have to say to Nix?”

“We’ll get to her in a moment.” Ares laughed. “You are so serious, Calder. Aren’t you the tiniest bit angry about what’s been done to you?”

Nix surged forward, but Cal stopped her.

Ares only laughed harder. “I love your spirit, Nix. If only my son shared your passion. Your zest for life. I fear it was almost castrated out of him by the Amazons. I’m sure he hasn’t told you that they flailed him within an inch of his life with Diana’s Whip.”

Nix’s head swiveled around. She didn’t speak or rise to take the bait. And Cal was grateful. Not that he was off the hook. She would demand answers later.

“Ares, as much as this topic seems to fascinate you, we do have a schedule to keep. So would you please get to the reason why you wanted to speak to me?” Nix gave his father a slow smile, the kind that usually appeared before she administered a beat down.

“Very well.” Ares’ phone rang. He answered with an aggravated sigh. “What is it, Lord of the Gloom?” Ares turned around, ignoring them.

Cal clasped Nix’s hand and gave it a squeeze. If only he could tell her the truth . . . that he loved her. He needed to stop trying to change the past. If he kept wishing for things that couldn’t be, he would go crazy.

“Don’t tell me the rules! I know!” Ares’ angry outburst brought the world back into focus. Ares vanished the phone and closed the distance between them. “That was Hades. The jack wagon felt like he needed to mother my ass. Like I don’t know the code of silence is in force. Sorry about that, kiddies.”

Ares beckoned them closer. “So Nix, tell me, how much do you know about your Uncle Memphis’ extra-curricular activities?”

“Not much. Care to enlighten me?”

“I would love to. Unfortunately, I would be
interfering
,”— Ares flashed air quotes—“but there’s nothing stopping you from satisfying your own curiosity, now, is there?”

Cal couldn’t help but admire his father. Ares loved to bend or break rules as much as possible. He suspected that Hades had called, knowing it would provoke Ares into finding an angle to help them with their mission.

“Well, we must get back to the others. Sorry about what comes next. No hard feelings. Okay, son?”

The bubble disappeared, and time resumed where it had left off.

Ares clapped his hands, and Aurelia escorted Nix off to the sidelines. Cal mouthed
trust me
to her again. She wouldn’t like what was about to happen next. And he wasn’t thrilled about it either.

“Calder and I have discussed his issues. And now to the punishment part of our program.” Ares raised his arms. Two poles with shackles appeared on either side of Cal. The silver cuffs attached to Cal’s wrists. Another gesture from Ares and Cal was lifted onto his tiptoes.

“What the hell is this?” Nix demanded.

Ares turned to face her. “Unless you want to join him, I suggest you cling to your neutral status.”

Cal’s shirt disappeared. He steeled his nerves to handle what was about to come next.

Pain. Lots and lots of pain.

Nix watched in horror as Ares cracked the whip over his head with a deafening bang. And Cal, he just stood there as if expecting it. What the Hades?

“Do not interfere, Nereid,” Aurelia spoke softly into her right ear. “If you do, it will only go worse for Cal.”

“I don’t understand.” Especially after Ares seemed so paternal when they spoke privately. Ares was a freakin’ psycho.

“No, you wouldn’t. Our father is the God of War,” Aurelia sniffed.

“Why is Ares allowing this to happen?” Nix swallowed the bile rising from her stomach. The whip cracked again, loud and sharp. Memories of war camp rushed back from the past. Whipping was the preeminent punishment for unruly students. She had excelled at unruly.

“Chaos and Strife are behind it. They hate Calder. In their eyes, he is a traitor to the family for siding with the Delian League and its cause of peace.”

“What about you? Do you feel the same way?” Nix stared at Cal. His face was devoid of emotion. Strife and Chaos circled him like two sharks. Other siblings broke the circle, ready to join in.

“My views are more moderate. I enjoy the kill of a good business deal.”

Ares shouted out to the assembly, “Calder, your punishment for continued disobedience is to receive a lash from each of your siblings.”

Nix took a head count. Gods above! There were at least fifty. “This is barbaric.” She sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She cast out her power, seeking the closest water. A nearby harbor offered a plentiful supply.

“Yes.” Aurelia seemed as unruffled as Cal. “He has survived this before. This time will be no different.”

Nix let the words sink in.
Before
, Aurelia had said before. “How often does this happen?”

“Oh, about every century. Thanks to Chaos and Strife, Cal is getting a double dose.”

“Good Lord.” How could he stand it? The pain, the humiliation. Admiration for Cal’s bravery and conviction stirred Nix’s heart. Followed closely by fear. If his soulless body died . . . No, she didn’t want to think about it.

“Who wants to go first?” Ares held out the whip to his children like they were taking turns at the playground. Chaos and Strife stood back. The cruel assholes probably wanted to go last when it would hurt Cal the most.

No way. She was not standing by idly while Cal was flogged within an inch of his life. Not with the stakes so high. Nix beckoned the water.

Not a Gods damned thing happened.

“Don’t bother. When you agreed to neutrality, your power was temporarily suspended.” Aurelia stepped forward with an apologetic smile at Nix. “Sorry, I’ll go first. Places to go, deals to make.”

Nix forced herself not to look away. If Cal could face the beating with dignity, so could she. Nix had been a bystander and recipient at war camp. Yet, she never became immune to the suffering of others. Witnessing Cal’s punishment made Nix feel helpless. Nix hated feeling helpless. At least when she had been on the receiving end of a whip, there was the pain to concentrate on. Not that there she had a choice. Agony had always taken all of her attention.

Aurelia coolly collected the whip from Ares, hefted it in her left hand, and let it fly. The skin on Cal’s back striped red. He stared straight ahead, his body still, as if unaffected by the blow.

Nix’s focus on Cal never wavered as brothers and sisters repeated the ritual over and over. A few were like Aurelia—indifferent—just wanting to get on with the rest of their day. Most of them were vicious bastards, striking Cal as hard as possible. After the first ten strokes, Cal’s composure started to break. Sweat covered his face, running down his neck. His legs quavered.

Nix moved into Cal’s line of sight, hoping to steel his courage. His gaze latched onto her like she was the last lifeboat leaving a sinking ship. When his legs buckled under a thick pool of his blood, Nix whispered words of encouragement until only Chaos and Strife remained. She didn’t know them, but she hated them. She could recognize sadistic assholes from a mile away.

“You are so weak, brother. To need a female to bolster your courage. If you embraced your heritage like the rest of us, you would be so much stronger,” Strife crooned, caressing the whip’s handle like it was a lover’s thigh.

“Fuck. You,” Cal spat out.

“No thanks.” Strife’s arm pulled the whip back. It impacted hard and fast. A fresh spray of blood burst from Cal’s back. Red rivulets landed on the floor with a gooey squelch.

Nix almost cracked. Her control was a razor thin line ready to snap. She glanced at Cal. His chin was down on his chest. He heaved a large breath and lifted his head. His eyes bore straight into hers. Red flames danced in his pupils.

Pull it together
, she told herself.
Cal needs me to be strong
.

Chaos moved behind Strife, his hand eager and outstretched. “My turn.”

Unlike Strife, who seemed to take perverse pleasure in Cal’s pain, Chaos was more disturbing. His eyes told another story. They were dead, black pools. He was the kind of sociopath who tortured his victims and felt nothing.

Without warning, Strife had his arms around her. She tugged away, but he held her fast. “Get off me!”

Cal lunged forward, animated out of his stupor.

“Brother. Look. He cares for this one.” Strife sniffed the skin along the back of Nix’s neck. “Her scent is divine.”

“No sampling the goods without me, Strife.” Chaos leered. “Save some for me.”

Flames erupted from Cal’s fingertips. His eyes blazed red. “Take your hand off of her. Now.”