25
A MASSACRE OF POWER
ALEXIS
I sprinted out onto the dark lawn.
Barbed wire fence glinted menacingly in the moonlight.
I turned the corner—straight into a warm body.
Kharon grunted with surprise as I bounced off him and stumbled right into Augustus, who grabbed my arms to steady me.
“Sorry,” I said as I tried to catch my bearings. “I didn’t see you—”
Kharon crowded me and Augustus until we were both pressed against the side of the villa.
The Milky Way glittered behind his handsome face, a cloud of stars in the night sky.
“Alexis,” Kharon said softly as he leaned forward, his arms on either side of my head. “It’s really you.” He inhaled shakily.
Augustus was hot against my back, and I melted into him.
The night breeze was chilly, but both of them radiated fierce heat.
There was a rushing in my ears, a flush in my cheeks.
From the way they were breathing heavily, I wasn’t the only one affected by the proximity.
In slow motion, Kharon reached forward and traced his fingers over my jaw, his touch a trail of fire. I gasped as his thumb lingered on my mouth. He
licked his lips, gaze ravaging.
“Kharon?” I breathed out softly.
He closed his eyes, his chest heaving. “Carissima,” he said, his voice
gravelly. “I want to devour you—”
“Please do,” I whispered.
Kharon pulled his hand away from my face and wrenched himself away from me. He pressed his tattooed knuckle into his mouth and bit down as he
stared at me through hooded eyes.
His expression was feral.
Augustus’s fingers tightened on my arm, his hips pressed against me, and something hard dug into the lower curve of my back.
“You know the sinful things we want to do to you,” Augustus whispered
silkily into my ear. “Right?”
I gulped. “Uh, y-yes.”
“Are you ready … to take both of us?” Augustus’s stubble grazed against the side of my face.
He cocooned me with his larger body as Kharon stared down at me hungrily.
“Yes,” I breathed out, heat mounting inside my core.
Augustus inhaled deeply. “Good girl,” he growled into my ear.
I jolted as his grip tightened, turning painful. My gaze locked on the scar tissue where Kharon’s ear used to be.
A confusing jumble of emotions welled up. Before I could identify them, Kharon had stepped back more, and Augustus released me.
“You’re not ready for us,” Kharon said cruelly, his face morphing into a skeleton.
Augustus scowled, blood pouring from both his eyes. “You could never handle the both of us.”
Kharon pointed his hand at my face, his fingers in the shape of a gun.
He pulled the trigger.
Sharp pain exploded through my skull.
I jolted upright in bed, gripping my forehead as sleep dissipated.
The sharp agony in my skull was gone, and there wasn’t so much as a
headache, just blissful peace.
It was just a dream.
A nightmare.
Morning light warmed my face, and I flopped back onto Helen’s frilly bedding.
Fluffy Jr. stood next to the bed—we made eye contact—he jumped up and jabbed oversized paws (hooves?) into my stomach.
I coughed, barely surviving my protector’s affection (violent assassination attempt).
Struggling for air, I turned my head—a fresh-cut rose stared back at me.
Gently, I traced my fingers over the thorns.
He’s visiting you at night. You know it’s not the grim reaper. It’s your— I shook my head, refusing to think about it.
At this point, my life couldn’t get any worse.
Knock. Knock.
“We have to go to the initiation massacre in a few minutes,” Drex yelled from the hall. “Everyone ate breakfast and is waiting for you in the atrium.”
Never mind, it’s worse.
“Shut the fuck up and end yourself,” Nyx hissed at Drex from somewhere
in the covers. “I’m sleeping.”
She was not a morning person.
A horrible thought struck me. “Were Patro and Achilles at the table?” I
asked with growing trepidation.
“Yes,” Drex called back.
“Were they … chained to their chairs?”
“Uh—no. Wait, why would they be? Alexis—what are you doing in your
free time?”
“Nothing.”
He made a sound of disbelief.
Ignoring Drex’s judgmental energy, I busied myself putting the new rose in the vase where I’d started collecting them.
Fluffy Jr. wagged his tail and ran in circles as I hurried around getting ready. His excitement for life was endearing, and also highly annoying.
“Simmer.” I pointed at him. “We’re all going to die.”
Fluffy Jr. jumped and kicked his back legs up with enthusiasm.
I tried.
After I finished getting dressed in the outfit Helen had left out for me, I wrapped Nyx around my neck.
“Careful,” she hissed. “The diamonds are cold.”
I moved to the mirror. “What are you talking about? There are no—”
My jaw dropped.
A necklace of glittering blue diamonds hung around my throat like a
choker.
Oh.
My.
God.
“Kharon?” I whispered with dawning horror as I fingered the gems, entranced by how much they sparkled. Sighing heavily, I searched for the clasp. “I can’t wear these.”
“Why?” Nyx asked as she slithered down my arm.
“Because it’s too much and I—”
“Didn’t you agree just yesterday to give Kharon a chance?” Nyx cut me
off.
“I mean … I didn’t kill him?”
“Exactly,” Nyx hissed. “Accept the pretty jewelry. Don’t be ungrateful—
it’s tacky.”
My fingers stilled.
She had a point.
I dropped my hands, determination filling my gut. I can forgive my husbands and prove myself to Sparta.
Either I was turning over a new leaf, or I was completely delusional. Only time would tell (it was definitely the latter).
Drex smiled with relief when I stepped out the door. He grabbed my arm and dragged me through the gilded villa. Fluffy Jr. barked and ran beside us while Toucey flew above our heads, his metallic feathers grazing the high ceiling.
We came to a stop in the bustling atrium.
Everyone turned to me.
The leaders and heirs were all present, including Helen and Charlie. The only person missing was Ceres. At least she would be safe in the villa, protected from the Olympians.
Persephone and Hades smiled at me with pride—I smiled back at them.
In contrast, the side of my face prickled under the heavy weight of Achilles’s and Patro’s death glares. From their expressions, they were not happy with me.
On the other side of the room, Kharon smirked with pure male satisfaction
as he stared at the jewelry on my neck.
“Who are you all looking at?” Nyx hissed. “Creeps.”
“Let’s go,” Hades ordered.
Why are Augustus’s right knuckles wrapped?
Everyone placed their hands in.
“Domus,” Aphrodite shouted.
Crack.
Smoke rose—protectors crouched low at our feet with anticipation—the tunnel of the Dolomites Coliseum towered around us.
I’d been here before.
Stone vibrated and dust fell as people stomped above our heads. Most of Sparta would be in attendance today.
“Amor fati, memento mori … Amor fati, memento mori!” chanted through
the air.
Remember death, love your fate.
I reached into the layered loose folds of my toga and clutched the cold metal of my emotional support calculator.
Nyx slithered tighter around my arm.
Fluffy Jr. picked up a rock with his mouth and crunched down on it. Yep, that’s a horse.
Ares, Aphrodite, Artemis, and Hades took the lead, walking up a narrow spiraling stone stairwell built into the rock, and we all followed behind them.
Augustus looked back over his shoulder at me as he walked up the stairs.
Poco hung off his back eating his hair.
His eyes seemed sharper, brighter than usual.
Kharon walked behind me, his hand lingering on my lower back, pushing me forward. His fingers drifted up my spine and traced across the blue diamond necklace. Did he slip it on in the dining hall, or did he visit me in the middle of the night?
I wanted to ask, but nerves were twisting my stomach, and the tension between the three of us was mounting.
We emerged from the narrow staircase into the stadium—gray clouds hung low, a stiff breeze whipped back and forth eight colorful Olympian House flags, each section was full of a few dozen House members in matching regalia.
Augustus and Kharon moved so they flanked me, each with a hand resting on my lower back. It was the lightest of touches, but I struggled to focus on
anything else.
Yesterday, they’d crawled to me, begging.
Their heady scents—lightning and rain—filled my nose.
I discreetly turned my head to the side and breathed deeply as I scanned the crowd, spotting the lion of the House of Zeus.
Amongst the Houses were pockets of different creatures I hadn’t noticed my first time here. I recognized a packed section full of sirens, and Erebus sat with dozens of men in similar cloaks. There were other creatures I didn’t recognize.
In the center of it all, the arena sand was empty.
The contestants hadn’t arrived yet.
“Amor fati, memento mori …” Spartan voices trailed off as every head turned to stare at our group.
The black silk of my toga blew against my legs and my wedding ring felt like a brand on my finger.
The Chthonic leaders turned back to look at us, their expressions cold and regal. Power strummed tangibly around them in glittering mist and fog.
Ares nodded, a ruby halo shining creepily around his black irises.
Stomp.
Clap.
Stomp.
The stadium vibrated beneath my feet as the Olympians slammed their feet
against stone with anticipation.
Hades had coached me on this moment.
The flag ceremony at the initiation massacre was apparently a centuries-old tradition. It was a great Spartan honor.
Augustus moved from where he stood beside me and walked forward, tailored black suit stretching across his wide back as he raised the charging Minotaur flag of the House of Ares.
Wordlessly the crowd watched, all eyes focused on him.
Augustus’s long legs flew as he ran up the steps, two at a time—he held the House of Ares flag proudly above his head.
The stadium stomped faster.
Kharon stepped forward next.
With a grim expression, Kharon raised the rabid horse flag of the House of Artemis, his face hardening into sharp angles.
As he walked past Artemis, mother and son made eye contact. She’d
secretly disowned him, but publicly, he was still the heir of the House. After all, there weren’t any other children left.
Artemis stared at his missing ear, then down to his visible protectors, her mist glittering as something like surprise flashed in her gaze.
Kharon looked away first, his face emotionless as he sprinted up the steps with his flag.
Hell and Hound ran beside him, teeth bared to the crowd. Olympians gasped and recoiled as they pointed at his protectors.
Murmurs of monsters and a missing ear echoed around the stadium.
From the reactions, most Spartans had never seen a hellhound in the flesh, since they were usually invisible.
The murmurs died down as Patro stepped forward.
He had one hand wrapped around the black swan flag of the House of Aphrodite, but Achilles raised it high, his grip taking the brunt of the weight.
Both men looked at me as they walked past.
I raised my chin—it’s not my fault you got caught, it was your plan, not mine—I silently let them see my annoyance.
Patro’s jaw clenched.
Achilles straightened.
They turned to each other and raised the flag higher, running up the steps in perfect tandem, side by side; Nero and Poppae trailed behind them.
It was my turn.
Hades nodded his head to me. Next to him, tears glimmered in Persephone’s eyes. “You can do this, daughter,” she mouthed with a hand
over her chest.
The stadium shook with stomps.
I pulled my shoulders back.
I will make my mother proud.
Raising my right arm—Nyx invisible around my forearm—I held the long black staff above my head.
“Bow before us!” Nyx hissed for dramatic effect.
With my head high, I sprinted up the vibrating steps. Sparta blurred around me.
The skeleton hellhound flag of the House of Hades fluttered above.
My House.
My lineage.
Goose bumps broke out across my skin.
My power.
I would figure out what the tingling in my fingers and glowing light meant; I would figure out just who I was.
With Fluffy Jr. on my heels, an ancient war cry echoed through my mind.
My ancestors ran with me—I could feel their pounding feet and racing hearts —their hopes and dreams were strumming through my veins.
Their power lived on inside of me.
My lungs expanded.
I will make my bloodline proud.
Even if it killed me.
“The lost heir to the House of Hades,” Olympians whispered as I ran by.
Their bird protectors screamed, wings fluttering with distress—they were afraid of me—the animals and the Spartans.
I straightened as I sprinted.
They should be afraid.
Black flag above my head, arms tensing, I waved it back and forth with all my might.
“Angelus Romae!” someone called out near the top of the stadium, and there was a responding wave of nervous murmurs. Angel of Rome.
I stumbled, nearly tripping over a step.
I was no angel.
Adrenaline and pride drained away as I came to a stop at the designated
Chthonic section and took my seat.
There was nothing left to do but wait.
All too soon, the massacre began.
One hundred boys leapt into the arena sands—then, they fought to the death.
Fluffy Jr. lay at my feet, whimpering. Helen and Charlie huddled together with Drex not looking, and my husbands sat rigid on either side of me.
A gruesome legacy to bear.
The chanting had died down as the first body dropped, and now screams from below echoed through the silent stadium.
Hades and Zeus stood together on a podium watching the death match.
Kharon and Augustus sat on either side of me.
I stared down blankly, head full of static.
Last year I’d been one of the bodies crawling through the muck and inky fog. I’d been throwing punches, amped up on adrenaline, delirious with blood
lust.
Kharon leaned toward me, like he could read my thoughts. “How did you … survive?”
My hand drifted to the warm scales wrapped around my arm. “Nyx.
Without her, I never would have made it. She … saved me.”
A forked tongue flicked against my skin.
“I’m … glad then,” Kharon said softly. “That you have her.”
“Me too.”
Nyx slid off my forearm onto him—Kharon jolted, his eyes wide as he stared down at where the sleeve of his suit indented.
“I always knew he would be a good mate,” Nyx hissed as she twined up his
arm. “He smells like blood and death.”
If that doesn’t sum up my life.
Kharon sat up straighter and smirked at Augustus. “The killer snake likes me more than you.”
“False.” Nyx slithered over my lap to Augustus, and he grunted with surprise.
“I like the muzzled one best,” Nyx said. “And the raccoon mother second best. I prefer men who don’t speak. Men should be seen—slaughtering and protecting—not heard. I’ve always said this.”
If a massacre wasn’t happening before my eyes, I would have laughed at
her ridiculous name for Augustus.
But it was.
Charlie and Helen were now cowering in front of me with their eyes squeezed shut and their hands covering their ears. Drex was pale, his face turning green.
I forced myself to watch as Hades’s fog retreated, and ten boys were left standing, eighty-three broken bodies splayed around them.
A familiar elderly woman with white hair and purple eyes walked out with a clipboard. She wore rainbow-covered rainboots and a ridiculous yellow hat.
Fate, they called her.
Ten Olympian men jumped down from the stadium and Zeus announced their assigned mentors.
Patro glanced over at me, his expression caught somewhere between
pleading and a sneer.
I looked away.
With electricity dancing across his skin, Zeus droned on about unity in the
face of darkness.
“Rest assured, Medusa will be captured.” Zeus’s voice crackled as it broadcasted boomingly through the stands. “But until then—for everyone’s safety—the federation has made a decision to break with tradition.”
Augustus and Kharon stiffened beside me.
The stadium held its breath.
“The SGC will now start tomorrow. All Chthonics will stay at the Dolomites stadium for the twelve-day showcase. They will also be extensively questioned by the federation to make sure they have no association with Medusa’s disappearance.”
My heart stopped.
It was June.
The SGC wasn’t supposed to start until August. We were supposed to have two more months to prepare.
There was a roaring in my ears as Chthonics jumped to their feet around me. People were shouting. Olympians were screaming about dishonor and war.
The chant, “Kill Medusa—kill Medusa—kill Medusa,” rose throughout the stadium.
I covered my mouth to stop myself from throwing up.
Zeus continued, “Any Chthonic who leaps away, or refuses to answer questions about Medusa, will be named an enemy of the state of Sparta— punishable by imprisonment in the Underworld … or death.”
The shouts increased.
People jostled as fists were raised.
Someone was crying.
I stood up, my knee almost giving out as I struggled to straighten. Charlie and Helen turned—they were grabbing me.
“What,” Helen whispered, “are you going to do about—”
“Don’t worry,” I said, cutting her off. “I’ll … I’ll … f-figure something out.”
Helen didn’t look reassured, her eyes filling with tears. Charlie swayed like he was going to pass out, and Achilles grabbed his shoulder, signing to him,
“It’s going to be okay.”
My brother nodded.
Kharon sidled closer to me. “Stay beside us. We need to stick together while we figure out what the fuck is happening.”
I tried to nod to show him that I heard, but my neck wouldn’t move.
Our time had run out.
