Chapter 3
The Prodigal Sun
Air
Clio eased her seat back and settled in for the hours-long flight to
Ares tossed her a surly glance while she fiddled with the buttons above her head. “Here,” he said and slapped his magazine into her hands.
“No, thanks, not much interest in Guns and Ammo.” Clio tossed it back in his lap.
“Look, it’s a bloody long flight. You need to relax. This was your idea, y’know.”
Clio sighed and looked around. Crow was sitting in the middle aisle, in the seat furthest from her, with Miranda and Alice. His face was dark and etched. This was not his alone to bear, and she was angry with him for not sharing this with her.
Cory sat behind her gazing out the window and pouting at the night sky, Mel at her side. Mel had said her good-byes to Trent and Bliss at the villa. Mel could not rationalize bringing her vampire mate on this trip. There was no time to gather false paperwork on transporting a corpse overseas, and they didn’t know when they might be caught in sunlight, in the end, it was too dangerous to bring the lamias with them.
Trent’s reluctance to let Mel go had made Clio’s guilt swell – she couldn’t possibly promise him Mel’s safe return after all that had happened. She couldn’t promise anyone’s safe return.
Ares’ heat was suffocating her, even with the air blowing above.
“Are you pissed about something?” She finally asked.
Ares arched his brow at her.
“Get it off your chest before I bake,” Clio said.
He smiled involuntarily, catching her off-guard.
“It’s odd when you do that.”
“Do what?” He said and smiled again.
“That,” she said and pointed to his lips.
“I’m sorry, I promise not to do it again, muse,” he replied, he even raised his fingers in the Boy Scout oath.
“No, it’s okay. It just seems out of place for some reason.”
“I do feel things besides anger, violence and hate, y’know,” he said conspiratorially and she flushed.
It was her turn to smile. “I forget, sometimes.”
“Forget what?”
“That you were once with her, that there must be more to you than meets the eye.” A fleeting moment glanced across his face, and was gone in the blink of an eye.
“Ah, yes, but she was another pair of shoes altogether, historian.”
“What are you all riled up about?” Clio said as she finally got back to the point.
He made a great business of searching for his cigarettes before he finally said, “Big Zed.”
“Huh?”
Ares put his cigarette in his mouth but didn’t light it, and said around the cigarette, “Big Zed told me I had one week to haul you and your sister in or he was gonna put the serious hurt on me.”
Her gaze dropped to the pain in her lap and she discovered her nails digging into her palms.
“That was a week ago today,” he said.
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re going have to be real dodgy when we get to
“Oh god, what are we going to do?” Her voice crept up an octave.
“It’s alright, pet, if it comes down to it, we may have to take a detour and not catch that connector in
“I’m sorry.” They said in unison and then laughed. The laughter had a sobering effect on her and her face twisted in anguish.
She turned away.
Ares stood and pulled something from his bag in the overhead. Returning to his spot next to her, he plugged the portable DVD player into the battery, and popped the headphones in.
Clio sniffed and looked out the corner of her eye at what he was up to. The DVD player was placed on her tray and he dangled a headset in front of her.
“This isn’t gonna be like ‘Alive’ or anything, is it?”
Ares rolled his eyes and clicked the Play button. It was an animated film. “When you fly as much as I do, you learn to carry something that will keep the screamin’ whelp next to you quiet.”
“Glad to know you’re trying to mollify me.”
“Well, at least I didn’t call you a screamin’ whelp,” he said and stood.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m goin’ for a fag and see if I can chat up that stewardess.”
“Flight attendant.”
“What was that?”
“Flight attendant, if you call her a stewardess, you won’t get anywhere.”
“I’ll call her an air mattress and still get somewhere,” he said and walked down the aisle.
Clio slowly lowered her headphones and stared at the redhead.
“We gonna try not to argue?” Clio’s voice held a tentative quality, as though she was afraid she might frighten her granddaughter off.
“Whatever,”
“There’s nothing that can be done for that, I’m sorry.”
“I want you to know that I think what you’re doing to my grandmother and my brother sucks.”
Clio chewed her lip thoughtfully and nodded her head.
“I understand.” Clio didn’t know what to do.
“Crow is lost to you. I will make certain of that. I’m sorry.”
Clio cocked her head, “We’ll get through this, we’re family.”
“Whatever,”
Mel leaned into Clio’s seat and said, “I’m sorry how this is turning out for you, beloved.”
“Me too, Mel,” Clio said.
“Clio, I hate to bring this up.”
“Go on, I don’t think it can get much worse.”
“I’m afraid we may be walking into a trap. All of this business with Crow and Miranda right at the time Calliope is taken, it’s making me afraid that none of this is a coincidence. Something definitely doesn’t smell right, Clio.”
Clio got up to find the restroom and to get away from where their conversation was headed.
“‘Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,’” Mel mumbled to herself and shook her head.
Clio found Ares talking not to the flight attendant but to Cory. She took an empty spot near them, unable to resist the pulling temptation to eavesdrop on her sister and the war god.
“I don’t think we can ever know that,” he said.
“You don’t know anything, just because you’ve seen me naked and spent some warm, fuzzy time with my sister doesn’t mean you know anything about us. Clio was always jealous of Calliope.”
“This has nuthin’ to do with me, you sodding li’l twit! This has everything to do with you accusing your bloomin’ sister of committin’ murder, and I won’t have it!”
His words struck Clio’s heart like hammer blows, she hadn’t been imagining it – Cory was blaming her. Her stomach wrung with nausea over the news, she needed to find the toilet, but couldn’t tear herself away from the conversation.
“I didn’t say she murdered her, but Clio has surely gotten her chance at being in charge for awhile, hasn’t she?”
Clio knew she was going to vomit, she stood and pushed past the flight attendant, who followed her to make sure she found the lavatory okay.
When her stomach was empty and aching, she washed her mouth out in the sink.
The flight attendant knocked on the door to see if she was all right.
“I’m fine, I’ll be out momentarily,” Clio said.
Satisfied, the flight attendant left her.
“I said I’d be right out!” Clio barked in response to another knock.
“Sorry,” said a voice she recognized. Crow! Her mind slapped her to her senses. After wrestling with the occupied/vacant lock, she pushed the door open wildly. She snatched Crow by the shirt and hauled him in.
“What th–” Crow sputtered. “What the hell are you doing?”
Clio slammed the door shut and locked it behind her. Now the only way he could get out would be to reach around her.
“Clee, what do you think you’re doing?” The tension was thick enough to taste and spit out.
“I had to see you,” she breathed.
“Okay, you see me. Now let me out,” he said and avoided her gaze.
Clio dropped her head to search his eyes. “Please don’t lock me out, Crow.”
“I can’t do this right now, it’s too soon,” he said, his voice held a strangled quality.
“Then when? When we’re in the bowels of the earth facing the gods of the darkest place you’ve ever known? Will that be a good time for you?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t gotten that far yet,” he said and reached around her to get out. His wrist brushed against hers, he closed his eyes as though the touch pained him.
Clio closed her eyes, too. Crow’s warm breath swept across her face. Tremors coursed through her as his body leaned into hers. His forehead rested against her own.
They stood there, pressed to the bathroom door, shattered.
“Tell me you still love me,” it was so quiet it hardly disturbed the air.
His lips lingered over hers. “Clee,” he whispered.
He straightened and pulled back. “I can’t do this. We’re monstrous to have done what we’ve done.” He should’ve backhanded her from the expression he earned.
“You still love me! You do!” Her voice quavered, nearing the brink of madness.
Crow grabbed her shoulders and shook her like a rag doll. “You are my great-grandmother – my great-grandmother, Clio! We can never be! I don’t care who I was before, I am who I am now, and who I am now can’t be with you! Get it through your brain!” His face was twisted, stricken. Crow moved her aside and left the bathroom.
Alone in the tiny cubicle, she raised a quivering hand to her forehead and dissolved into tears. Inconsolable, she crumpled to the floor and quietly sobbed. Clio pounded the heel of her fist into the little cabinet beneath the sink. She would crawl through this, if need be, on her hands and knees, but she would get through it sane.
Clio looked up to find her dead sister sitting on the toilet’s closed lid. Calliope’s eyebrows raised in expectation. Her raven hair hung loose, except for the top, which was braided into a crown. A gown that Clio had not seen since their days on
Clio rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand and sobbed out a laugh. “Why not?” She asked. “You’re not real, Calliope, go away,” Clio said with a heavy breath and closed her eyes tight, hoping when she opened them, the shade would be gone.
“Well that’s a foul attitude to have,” Calliope said. “You’ve gotta stop this falling apart crap, Clee, it’s getting played out.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have this problem if I wasn’t seeing things,” she said as she fixed her sister with a bemused expression.
“Maybe you are, maybe you’re not, the main thing is, you obviously need me right now, otherwise you wouldn’t be seeing me.”
“God, Calliope! I can’t even mourn you properly without you beleaguering me!”
“Let’s say I’m consistent,” Calliope said.
“What do you want?”
“Clee, I feel like I should warn you: don’t come looking for me, I’ll find my own way.”
“What? No! Forget it, you’re not talking me out of this,” Clio said and shook her head.
“Listen to me, all of you may not make it back, it’s not worth the risks.”
Clio stuck her chin out. “I’m not turning back,” she said.
“You’re willing to put them all at risk, Clio?” Calliope asked with a heavy tone, “Even Crow?”
“We’ll be fine. I’m gonna bring you home.” Clio reached for her but Calliope pulled away.
“Yeah, well, as long as you have your priorities straight,” Calliope replied.
Clio cocked her head at her sister, her silver eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” She asked slowly.
“What are you talking about? I’m your sister, for Christ’s sake.”
“Calliope wouldn’t care who I had to risk getting her out – she’d just want out. Now tell me who the fuck you are.”
Calliope’s eyes blazed murderously at the historian. The sapphire suddenly turned to black and the bones in her face shifted beneath pale white skin.
“I’ve warned you to stay out, muse, it’s not safe, for you or your people,” Megaera said from her place in the bathroom.
Clio sucked her breath in through her teeth. “Why would you warn me?”
“I owe it to an old friend,” Meg said. “Don’t forget, you were warned.”
Megaera was gone.
Clio looked at the ceiling of the small bathroom and with a short, bitter laugh, said, “I’m losing it, I’m really losing it!”
There was a small knock on the door, she reached behind her head and pushed it open. “C’mon out of the loo, pet, you can’t go all the way to Paris locked in there, it’s indecorous,” Ares said, shaking his head at her.
“Why are you being nice to me, aren’t you supposed to be bathing in my misery?”
“‘Bathing in your misery’? Where do you get his stuff from? I don’t know why I’m being nice to you, but I don’t think I’d pull the Goddess of Love herself from the water closet.” He stepped inside, “Besides, you’re no fun to fight with when you’re upset.”
Ares wet a paper towel in the sink and handed it to her to clean herself up.
“Do you love her?” Clio asked and wiped at her tears.
“Who?” He asked, completely taken aback.
“Dita, since you brought her up. Do you still love her?”
“Aphrodite?” He chuckled. “That’s been over for awhile, pet.”
“They say love never dies.”
“‘They’ have obviously never met Dita. I’ll tell you the truth, not because I like you, but because you deserve it. Nothing lasts forever, Aphrodite is the embodiment of love itself and she doesn’t know bollocks about it, especially the forever part.”
Clio could tell he was uncomfortable talking about his personal life.
“Dita was my brother’s wife, I had no right to her. She feels she owns every heart she encounters and she makes promises she never means to keep and she plays with your heart and she is supposed to be love. There you have it, nothing lasts forever, but especially not love.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Do I still love her? I’m not sure I ever did. You can’t truly love something that doesn’t love you back, Clio, and she never truly loved me back. I was her husband’s brother, I was off-limits, and something she wasn’t supposed to have. I think she was in love with having me if she wanted to. I don’t think she ever truly did love me,” Ares looked immeasurably sad. “Now look, you’ve gotten me all weepy, next thing you know, I’ll be blaming me mum for all my relationship troubles and going on one of those chat shows the dancer’s so fascinated with.”
Clio smiled half-heartedly and he helped her stand. “Who knew?” She said more to herself than him while she fixed her face in the mirror.
“Come again?”
“Who knew you were so human, Ares,” she said, her fingers grazing his hot cheek. “I promise not to tell the others.”
“Well, gee, thanks, historian. In effort to protect my precious reputation, we’ll just let the others believe we joined the Mile High Club in here, try to look satisfied on your way out.”
2
The Villa
He sat in the room’s darkest corner, dragging off a cigarette and contemplating the child he watched sleep in the big, rumpled bed. His mate away, he fought with the demons inside that always threatened to take over whenever she was gone.
Of course, Mel could never know the evil that coursed through his veins, she would never be able to see it, anyway.
He had wrestled with it for so long, his darkness that he sometimes forgot was there. Until Mel was gone. Now he was left with a sinister child in his charge, a dark beast in an innocent package.
Bliss Sheridan, the monster. He chuckled softly to himself. It sounded ridiculous to his ears, a vampire named Bliss Sheridan. He had discovered her name, Bliss Elizabeth Sheridan, the day before, while surfing the Internet during his lockup in the guest bedroom.
The Internet had several missing people sites and he scanned hundreds of photos – vacation shots, yearbook photos, prom pictures – of runaway or missing children. His search turned up a junior high school picture of a girl, pink-cheeked and innocent with wild, hunted eyes. She had been missing since 1999, when she was twelve years old. Bliss’s body bore scars that soldiers would admire, but
This was a battle of will. He loved Melpomene with all his being, she was his savior, his saint. Without her, he would have become a monster of considerable wickedness. His fondness for drink, combined with a natural bloodlust, made him a powder keg to be around. Mel had given him a reason to be good and he could never live with himself if he did something that would hurt her or cause her to be disappointed in him.
Mel was infinitely good, almost saint-like. He was there that day, in
And Mel ripped her own eyes from her head. There was only so much misery even the Muse of Tragedy could take and Mel had reached her limit. She was a saint.
Of course, this never stopped him from feeding whenever she was gone. Somehow, he had justified feeding off mortals, never killing them, but could never confess this to Mel.
This was not a big deal to Trent Hayward. The big deal to
There was also the problem of keeping her from draining their meals entirely.
His foot came to rest on the end of the bed and he jounced the mattress up and down. “Get your ass up, Bliss!”
“Go ’way! Sleepin’!” She groaned.
Her smell nauseated him, she hadn’t showered or washed her hair in days, and her putrescence hung in the air. “Ares is right, you reek,” he said as he picked her up in the tangled sheet and carried her out of the room.
“
Carefully avoiding stray patches of sunlight,
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bliss yelled.
“I’m giving you a bath, you’re making my eyes water,” his tough, Bostonian accent made it sound like “wahtah.” A loofah found its way into his hands and he scrubbed her down in earnest. Calliope’s scented soaps, shampoos, and conditioners were doused on the sodden lamia.
“I can do it myself, thank you very much,” she said.
“Aren’t you gonna dry me off?” Her voice was still raspy.
Her larynx should’ve healed by now, and
“I thought this was how you got off,” she said.
“You wish,” he said while he dug through the dead muse’s closet.
“Clee wouldn’t like you going through her sister’s clothes, you know.”
“You need something to wear, she wouldn’t care. And do me a favor, don’t call her ‘Clee’, only the people who love her call her that, and I don’t think you made the list.”
Bliss narrowed her green eyes hatefully at him. “What’s the big deal? We have nothing to do with them gone, we’ll go downstairs drink a cup of O Pos, watch some TV and go back into the room. I wanted to go to
“Why, what did you have in mind for tonight?”
He tossed her a bundle of clothes. “Tonight we hunt.”
Her little pink tongue darted out and moistened her lips, her eyes glittered with intense wickedness, and she uttered in a breathy whisper, “Excellent.”
3
The Underworld
The Gates of Hades
“I can’t ride anymore,” Calliope said and pulled her mare to a trot.
“We’re almost there,” he tried to urge her farther, but she was having none of it. Turning the horse about, he rode back to where she was dismounting by the riverbank.
A willow hovered over the bank protectively and Calliope settled beneath it. Calliope sighed as she looked overhead. The distinct lack of anything in the sky made it difficult to gauge how long they had been riding.
Bending to wash her face in the water, Hypnos startled her by a placing a white hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t do that.” He motioned towards the water and said, “The Lethe, the
Calliope slowly pulled back and stared at the water with abject loss, she was thirsty and dirty. With a deep frown, she leaned back against the willow.
“If it’s any consolation, you’re not thirsty or dirty, you only remember that you should be,” he said.
Calliope bridled with disgust. “No, it isn’t any consolation, being reminded I’m dead.”
“I’m sorry,” he said and looked genuinely apologetic.
A sheepish glance garnished her expression and she said, “Christ. I guess I shouldn’t be taking it out on you, after all, you’re not the one who put me here.”
“Well, at least, I’m ruled out, maybe you are getting your memory back. Okay, we’re both sorry.” He kissed her forehead.
“Why are we going to see Hades? Didn’t he send the Erinys after me?” She asked, deep in thought.
“No, Persephone sent them, not Hades.”
“What’s the difference?” Calliope was still sure she was dirty and thirsty.
“There are two worlds down here, and I’m not talking about Elysion and Tartaros. No, there isn’t just a heaven and hell down here, Calli, there’s Hades’ Underworld and there’s Persephone’s Underworld.”
Her expression darkened in response to his answer.
“There is his will and word, and there is her will and word, all done without his knowledge. Those that follow the Goddess are growing in numbers, but the few that still follow the God are loyal, and that is what will count.
His love for her has completely blinded him to her corruption and she'll stop at nothing to finally have complete control of the Underworld. Somehow, you and Clio have gotten mixed up in all of this.”
“Clio?” Her sister’s name was unexpected and fear stabbed Calliope’s middle.
“She came here in search of her mortal husband, do you think she’d do any less for you? You must know she is on her way, if she isn’t here already.”
Calliope honestly didn’t think her sister would be so insolent as to return to the one place where she was most unwelcome. “No. Clio wouldn’t be stupid, Hades warned her to never come back here.”
“You know how she gets,” he reminded her gently. “Anyway, Persephone seems to want you where nobody can find you and sending you to Tartaros is her answer.”
Calliope chewed her lip, deep in thought. “God,” she shuddered.
“I need to ask you something.”
Gravity in his voice made her chest tighten, she knew that tone, it was the tone people used on her when they discovered something less than perfect about her, a tone she was all too used to.
“Did you give them evidence?” He asked.
The muse swallowed the lump in her throat, tried to think of an answer, and came up short. Her Swiss-cheese memory obscured the truth for her and she thought carefully before answering. “I may have been careless with photo-ops, but I never out and out gave evidence to anyone. I don’t remember what happened, but I do know that a mortal by the name of Chad Swann discovered the truth. I was in a medical facility in a warehouse those last couple of days before I found myself here.”
Now was Hypnos’ turn to remain pensive while he mulled over the information she gave him. “Let me know if I get this wrong, because I’m doing a lot of assuming here – some human discovered you were immortal and you died?”
Struggling to remember the last few moments of her life, she said, “Yes... no... I don’t know. I don’t remember much about that. I’m sorry.” Calliope stared at the ground, ashamed, confused, and hurting.
“I need you to remember everything, because we’re going to have to explain all of this to Hades.”
4
The plane touched down in a light rain and Ares nudged Clio to get her to fasten her lap belt. “Are we here?” She asked sleepily.
“We’re here,” he said with that impenetrable frown of his.
“What’s wrong?” Clio tried to see out his window, to see if she could make out the source of his glower.
“I’ve got a bad feeling, is all.”
The plane taxied down the runway to the terminal. “You always have a bad feeling,” she sighed.
“I know, and I’m usually right,” he replied. His temperature was becoming uncomfortable for her.
“You need to turn the heat down,” Clio said in a low voice, she had little patience for this right now.
“What I need is off this bleedin’ plane,” he growled. Ares was taking off his lap belt and beginning to stand up.
The flight attendant appeared from nowhere and said, “Sir, please, take your seat, we are nearly there, just a few more minutes.”
“Get out of my way, you stupid bint,” Ares said and pushed her aside. Clio jumped out of her seat and clambered past the surprised woman.
Clio caught both of his wrists in her hands, “Ares! Look at me!” She jerked his wrists roughly, “Ares, we’re not going to be able to do anything until the plane stops anyway, going psycho on everyone isn’t going to help!”
Ares pushed her away but she grabbed his waist to push him back into his seat. Her hand jerked away, as if burned. “What the hell is that?” She demanded.
He paled and took his seat, but kept a wary eye on the door.
Taking her seat next to him, she leaned in to his ear and hissed through gritted teeth, “Are you fucking packing?”
“Well, you didn’t think I could go anywhere without some kind of,” he raised his eyebrows instead of saying the word “weapon.” Her angry face was inches from his.
“Are you nuts? How did you even get that on the plane? How are we going to get through customs? My god, Ares! We’ll never get through customs!”
“I haven’t been around a couple thousand years and haven’t learned how to get through customs, historian, we’ll be fine,” he hissed, the muscle in his jaw playing in and out.
“Fine, we’d better be fine!”
“We’ll be fine,” he repeated. The doors opened and the passengers began to disembark.
Clio grabbed her bag, gave him a scorching look, and stepped off the plane. His eyes darted with caution, every nerve standing to attention. She rolled her eyes at him and yawned dramatically to show he was being ridiculous.
Clio froze when she saw her. Ares had been right, something was wrong.
Iris was there, waiting for them patiently, perched on the edge of one of the hard chairs in the waiting area. A large, linen trench coat puddled around her dainty ankles as she rested her chin on her palms and her elbows on her knees. She was hard to miss with a head full of rainbow dreadlocks that went past her shoulder blades. Her lilac eyes were rimmed with silver liner and her full mouth was painted purple. Clio ran over to the goddess.
“I thought you were meeting us in
“Yes, I know, but,” Iris stopped when she saw the suspicious God of War come up behind Clio.
“What the hell are you doing here, Rainbowbrite?” Ares turned to Clio, “You never bloody listen to me.”
“There’s a problem with
Mel took Iris’ hand in her own and pulled her close to embrace her. “Thank you, Iris,” she responded.
“Where to then?”
Iris took them through customs, through the employee entrance. She kissed one of the officers on both cheeks, speaking to him softly in lilting French and handed him an envelope. Clio thought that it probably contained a message from some long-lost loved one, Iris would not deal in something as arbitrary as money.
“I guess we’re lucky Iris was here to get us through customs, since we weren’t going through
A customs officer bumped fists with the war god in greeting. “What’s goin’, mate?” Ares greeted.
“What are you doing in Paris, Ares?” The man seemed genuinely pleased to see the surly blonde.
Clio’s brow furrowed at Ares’ smug smile.
“Protecting a lady,” he replied in French and winked at the man. The man eyed Clio appreciatively, chuckled at Ares, and shook his head.
The Frenchman smiled and suggested in his native tongue, “But who’s gonna protect her from you?”
When they were away from the officer, Clio mumbled to Ares, “I speak French, you know.”
Ares stared straight ahead as they walked down the narrow hall, never turning to look at her. “I know, but I was laying odds that Crow didn’t.”
5
To the casual observer, they would have looked like an ordinary couple returning home from the Greek Theatre. After a concert, this small corner of
Spotting a group of Goth kids, he steered Bliss in their direction, her eyes widening at the prospect. With her hair brushed and face made up, she looked halfway decent. Her black dress was based on his insistence that he didn’t want to get any blood on something lighter. Her first few attempts might be messy. Bliss licked her lips in anticipation.
They caught up to the group of teenagers, all in black and maroon velvets and vinyl. He could smell the junk deep in their veins.
“Hey, guys, what’s goin’ on?”
Her childish beauty charmed them immediately, she was in pain with need, and the kids recognized her jones immediately.
The tiny apartment spun before his eyes, the cheap brass and glass shelving that held the stereo, several horror movie action figures, some brass candelabras, and a couple of long dead rose bouquets. A leopard print rug was spread on the red Spanish tiles that made up the floor, and there was a rolling TV stand with a 19-inch TV perched upon it, with a VCR and PlayStation crouched beneath. Velvet and lace swags hung over the windows and the walls were crowned with the moulding that most of these old apartments offered as an amenity.
Pure pleasure and comfort settled into his body and he reveled in the velvet slipcover on the couch, the feeling of Bliss curling up on his lap.
Bliss got up and lay atop of one of the girls. She ran her hands down the girl’s body, causing her to giggle. The girl was still conscious, as
The reality of what Bliss was doing came slowly to
At first, he thought Bliss was kissing her until he realized she lingered longer than she should. From the couch behind him, a cold hand flapped in front of his face. Turning his head for a little more from the other girl, he paused. Her eyes were wide open.
Suddenly, everything became clearer.
The two boys laid still, too still even for a drug-induced stupor and the girl above him grew colder with each passing moment. Bliss was draining the blonde girl with the black tank top and pleather miniskirt on the floor beside him.
Bliss looked shocked, trying to feign innocence. “I was hungry, you did it, too!”
“Didn’t you hear anything I told you? Anything?”
“
“I should stake you is what I should do,” he snarled.
“Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...”
“Bullshit, Bliss, you knew exactly what you were doing, exactly!”
“I’ll be good, I promise,” she gave him a wide-eyed childish plea.
He let her down and said, “Call 911.”
“Wh-what?” Bliss looked at the girl on the floor.
“She’s still alive, dial 911 and let’s get out of here.”
“You’re kidding! She saw us! She’ll tell, she’ll tell and they’ll come for us!”
Bliss picked up the telephone and her whispery voice could be heard giving the address.
Bliss jutted out her little chin, folded her arms across her chest, and dangled her booted foot above the surviving girl’s head.
“No!”
With a defiant sparkle, her foot slammed into the girl’s throat, the sickening crunching sound filling the small apartment.
Furious,
6
Iris led them to a limo waiting for them on the airport’s curb. They tossed their bags into the trunk and the girls got in. Crow and Ares waited for them, and then Ares let Crow go before him.
Ares swung in and slammed the door shut, the limo pulled away. Across from him sat a man with waist-length blonde hair, and a baleful expression.
Without a word, both men drew guns from their coats and aimed them at the other’s face. The limo’s interior became an oven and there was a collective intake of breath from the group.
“Put it away, Ares!” Apollo said.
“Not until you do, mate.”
“Ares, no!” Clio jumped between them. “Are you both insane?”
“Get out of my way, muse,” Ares warned.
Apollo pulled the hammer back on his gun, “Looks like we got ourselves a Mexican standoff, brother.”
“I am not your brother, you illegitimate son of a whore.”
The war god made the mistake of shifting his gaze to Clio for a tenth of a second. Apollo caught it and shifted his aim to Clio’s temple. Roughly grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her next to him. Clio landed in a heap in his lap from her awkward position.
Mel let out a terrified, “Apollo, don’t!”
Apollo put the barrel to Clio’s face, sweat dripping off her forehead. “I swear I’ll shoot her, Ares, it’ll hurt like a motherfucker, she’ll be scarred for hundreds of years and you won’t be able to shoot me because I’m the only one with the power to bring her back.”
“You don’t have that kind of power,” Ares grumbled in clipped words.
“Do you want to chance it?” Apollo asked and dug the gun’s muzzle into her temple.
Clio closed her eyes and tried to steady her shaking. “He’s bluffing.”
“Shut up!” Both gods thundered.
The muscle in his jaw twitching, his lips curled in disgust, Ares threw up his hands in enraged resignation. He twirled the Glock and handed it butt first to Mel. Cory elbowed her and Mel felt for it. She took the gun, put the safety on, and dumped it into her backpack.
There was a great exhale as they all finally breathed.
Clio pushed herself off Apollo’s lap, but he didn’t release his grip on her arm.
“Don’t,” he warned her. Clio trembled uncontrollably, she wanted to go to Crow, but he wasn’t looking at her, he was instead watching Ares with a newfound interest.
Ares was fixed upon the Sun God with a malevolent glare.
Mel finally spoke, “Apollo. How have you been?”
“Don’t start on me, Mel,” Apollo grumbled. “You’re the one who called me, remember?”
Mel remained silent.
“Why would you do that?” Clio whispered in indignation.
“What choice did I have? He deserved to know, after all, he loves her!”
This commanded a searing glare from Apollo.
“That’s ancient history, Melpomene.” Apollo turned his anger on Clio, “She called me because at least one of you remembered that I still have some authority over you nine.”
Clio snorted and turned away from him.
Iris cleared her throat and said, “Since no one asked, I assume you guys figured out Zeus is waiting for you in
Ares’ eyes met Clio’s in a knowing expression. Apollo nodded his head in agreement with Iris.
“God, it’s hot in here,” Cory whined. They all looked at the war god now. He sat back and looked out the window at the passing
Iris cleared her throat and began again. “Word’s out that he’s looking for Ares and Clio. I thought we could go in through the passages beneath
“Of course we’re going!”
“We have to. They have something we need down there,” Clio said.
“But all of them, Clio?”
This time Ares answered, “It’s the old bird we need and the two whelps there won’t let her go on her own.” His expression remained dark and morose.
“You guys are taking a blind chick and you’re worried about us?”
“Says the liability about the asset. Mel can see clearer than most of us,” Iris replied.
Heavy silence filled the limo and it dragged out their road trip even more. Mel fidgeted with the door lock and started to roll down the window. Ares stayed her hand. The last thing they needed was to be spotted in
Apollo finally cleared his throat, “Ares, I’m not here to start a war with you, I’m here to collect Calliope, after all they are my charges.”
This elicited a sharp laugh from Clio. “Were. You left us, remember? The whole ‘you’re big girls now, you can take care of yourselves’ speech still stirs me,” Clio said.
Ares asked, “What do you want from me, Apollo?”
“A truce, I don’t want to have to hold Clio hostage all the way to the Underworld.”
“Would you?” Ares asked. He measured up the tall, blonde man.
Apollo weighed his answer carefully. “No, I guess I wouldn’t anyway, I was attempting to make this easier on all of us.” Apollo pushed Clio away. She flew into Ares’ lap where he settled her beside him. She rubbed her sore arm and glared at the Sun God.
Ares threw him a “you-don’t-really-expect-me-to-swallow-that-crap” grin and looked at Clio. “You alright, pet?” He asked her in a low voice and inspected her arm.
“I’m okay.”
Ares lifted his eyebrow and, to Apollo, begrudgingly said, “Right, then.”
Apollo nodded to the war god and looked around the car. “I’m Apollo, if anyone didn’t catch all that,” he said with his deep, cultured voice and laid a hand on Mel’s knee.
Mel shrugged, and sighed, “Apollo, this is Clio’s daughter, Miranda, and her grandchildren, Crow and Alice.”
“Nice to meet you,”
Miranda scrutinized him. “It’s nice to meet you. You’re different from what I imagined.”
“I’m sorry I disappointed you,” he remarked.
“On the contrary, I expected you to be more homosexual.”
Cory burst out laughing and was quickly followed by the others. Ares smirked from his spot in the corner and Apollo couldn’t help but smile archly at the older woman.
“Touché, Miss Miranda,” he replied in that deep voice of his, “touché.”
7
The Underworld
The Gates of Hades
Hypnos pulled a key from a chain around his neck and inserted it into the lock on the iron gate. With strained effort, he opened it just wide enough for them to squeeze through and pulled it shut and locked it behind him. He paused and listened.
“They’re back,” she said. The crows had reconvened high above them.
“That means he knows we’re here,” he said with grim determination, his black eyes never leaving the crows.
“Nos, I...” Her fingers ran through his black veil of hair, different from hers, straight and fine, a dark beauty with delicate bone structure and pale, well-muscled skin. She wished he wouldn’t be hurt when she found her way out.
“Please, Calli, don’t say anything right now,” he told her in a tight voice.
With a heavy sigh, she took his hand instead.
Since they were easier to track with the horses, they had opted to leave them near the Lethe. Calliope’s feet complained loudly of this and she moaned with imagined exertion. They walked for what seemed like a mile or two when it came into her line of vision.
The
“Oh my god, we’re going there?” She asked.
The tower’s top was hidden in clouds, at least five hundred feet to the top. Dark and corroded, an ominous gray cloud clung to it like a python. Calliope’s face grew pensive and she chewed her lip, the feeling of being hunted ate at her.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Hypnos said as he kissed the top of her head and tugged her hand to get her to move her feet. “Think of it this way, the sooner we get inside, the sooner we’re rid of them.” He glanced up at their dark cloud that followed and circled them, laughing and screaming high above.
“Okay, we can do this, this is totally doable.”
Sounds of horses dragged her attention behind them. The Erinys, her mind thought wildly, she grabbed Hypnos by his forearm. “It’s Megaera, we have to go.”
They ran to a small thicket and hid in the shadows to get a better idea of how close they were. A giant of an oak grew in the center and they hugged the trunk to conceal themselves from the sisters.
Calliope stared up at the branches covered in gold and red leaves, leaves that seemed to sigh and whisper with the breeze.
“What is this?” She asked.
“Shh,” Nos replied.
One of the crows landed on a branch above them and cocked its head curiously. Calliope pleaded with her huge sapphire eyes for it to remain silent.
The three sisters were on the road. Tisphone was the closest to them, and she looked into the copse. They shrank against the great oak’s trunk, Calliope silently praying to anyone who would listen. Tisphone drew an arrow from her quiver and cocked it in her bow. Calliope drew in her breath and held it, her knees beating against one another. From Tisphone’s place on her beast, she let the arrow fly.
The arrow missed the crow and caused a flurry of leaves to begin to float to the ground. The leaves whispered to her and Calliope felt her knees turn to liquid.
“I wish I could sell this book and write full time,” a golden leaf said as it brushed past her shoulder.
“Someday I’ll play for more than just coffee houses,” said another.
Calliope spun in the tumble of leaves, feeling like a doll in a snow globe. She stared up as they fell all around her. Hypnos’ fingers grazed her shoulder as he tried to pull her back to the trunk.
“If I could just get that part, I could quit waitressing.”
“I can sing better than she can, why did they pick her?”
“My book will sell a million copies,” a red one told her.
The Oak of Forgotten Dreams. Calliope put her hands to her ears to drown out the whispered dreams of mortals she never got to. Mortals who may have deserved her more than Annie, or any of the others, but she was too busy. It was too much, it was too hard, and there were so many dreams, so many mortals. Calliope felt dizzy with emotions she couldn’t name.
Her only job in life was to inspire and teach and she had grown weary of that job. Calliope didn’t know that this is what guilt tasted like, it was sour and terrible, and it stuck in her throat. She had one job and she had all but abandoned it.
I failed them all.
The crow above Calliope was impaled suddenly. It looked as shocked as she did, cawed and flapped, but then plummeted to the ground by her feet.
The hitching in Calliope’s chest made Hypnos grab her by both arms.
Alekto laughed gaily at her sister and clapped her hands in admiration. Megaera pulled her steed up beside Tisphone’s and ripped the bow from her hands.
“Fool!” Megaera said, “We’re not out hunting those scavengers! Why don’t you two just page the muse while we’re here? Give her a little more advance warning! Morons,” she hissed and pulled ahead of her contrite siblings.
Forlorn, Tisphone stared after her. “But, my bow!” She said and chased after The Grim, leaving Alekto behind. The blonde Erinys looked around for a minute and dug her heels into her mare, trailing behind them.
When they were far ahead, Calliope let out a shaky breath and raised a trembling hand to her forehead. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take!”
“We’ll get there, Calliope, we’ll get there and get this straightened out,” Hypnos said with greater conviction than he felt.
“I’ve failed you all,” she said.
“What?”
“I am a horrible person.”
“What are you talking about?”
“All those people, all those dreams, and I just laid on a couch and put up with a man who hated me more than himself.”
“Calli –”
“Maybe I do deserve to be here,” she said.
“Don’t be foolish. You can’t possibly answer every mortal’s dream, it’s impossible.”
“But I could’ve have done more than just take my job for granted.”
“Let’s go, but let’s stay off the road.”
She nodded and leaned against the oak for support.
“Remembering anything yet?”
“Yes. But not what you want me to,” she said and headed for the tower.
8
The limo pulled up outside the famous graveyard’s gates, the
Ares hopped out of the car first, anxious to be rid of their newest member. Clio was quick behind him with the rest piling out, stretching, and moaning, tired of sitting from the plane and the car.
The trunk popped open and they pulled a couple backpacks out. Crow and Alice split Miranda’s things between them with Crow carrying the sleeping bag that
When they were ready to go, Ares thumped the limo on the trunk twice and it sped off. Apollo looked to the rainbow-headed Iris for direction and she led them into Pere Lachaise with little fanfare.
Clio fell behind with situating her small pack and found herself in the back of the group with Ares. Apollo and Iris led the way, with
“Are you very upset?” Clio asked Ares.
“What do you bloody think?” He lit a cigarette, staring straight ahead.
“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t know, and when I got in the limo, I tried to warn you before you got in,” she mumbled.
“Why?”
“Why what?” Clio asked.
“Why would you have tried to warn me? He’s your sodding keeper, you don’t owe any loyalties to me.”
“I was afraid you might kill one another, or at least, try.”
“If we haven’t killed one another yet, it’s not for lack of trying.”
They walked for a few moments in silence, enjoying the cemetery’s beauty. The graveyard was a formidable necropolis with avenues and avenues of tombs and monuments. It held the largest population in
“Did he hurt you?” He asked.
“Only my pride. Not to mention my feelings,” she brooded. “Do you think he would have shot me?”
“No more than I would’ve that night you found me in your house.”
That doesn’t answer the question at all.
Ares elbowed her mischievously. “I would’ve only shot you in the leg.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better, I have to trust both of you now,” Clio said.
“Listen, pet, I don’t know about the nancy-boy up there, but you can rely on me, and in my own insignificant opinion, Calliope will always be able to rely on him. He wouldn’t have come, luv, if he didn’t care.”
“I think it’s more of the principal of the thing, to him. Someone has what he considers to be his,” she replied.
“I don’t know,” Ares said and thought a moment. “I can’t say anything good about him because he’s an ILLEGITIMATE SON OF A WHORE,” he said this loudly so Apollo could hear him all the way ahead of them. Apollo didn’t turn around but flipped Ares the bird by raising his hand above his head.
“How that bastard got the attention that should’ve been mine is beyond me.”
Clio knew better than to press. After a furtive glance, she left it alone.
Ares cocked his brow at Crow walking with her daughter and asked, “What about you and the whelp?”
“I don’t know what to do about that. I mean, what do I do? Treat him like a grandchild? He was my husband at the root of him, and my lover at the surface, how can I ignore that?” She made a helpless gesture and shrugged her shoulders.
“Would you have loved him if he hadn’t been that husband of yours?”
“Of course I would have loved him if he hadn’t been Julian. Wouldn’t I?” Clio’s lip turned up at the thought. “I see what you’re getting at. Hades is winning, isn’t he? Watching us fall apart and grieve for each other is what he wants.”
Ares flashed her that odd smile.
“How dare he play with my life as though I were some common mortal.” Her hand flew to her lips, surprised by her slur.
Clio caught up to Crow.
“Can I talk to you?” She asked breathily.
“No.” Crow wouldn’t even look at her.
“Talk to her,” Miranda said.
He sighed, torn about disobeying his grandmother and not wanting to have to deal with Clio right now. “What?”
Her gaze fluttered at the petulance in his voice. “I was talking to Ares,” she began.
“Yeah, I saw that. You do a lot of talking with Ares.”
Her eyes widened at the accusation. “What?”
Crow cocked his head and jaw and raised his eyebrows in an “oh, please” expression.
Clio shook her head, “Never mind.” She stopped and let them go on ahead of her. Cory gave her a curious expression but kept going. Ares caught up with her and she began walking beside him.
She knew he battled the urge to ask her what happened.
Iris stopped in front of a crypt and looked around for tourists. Satisfied no one was watching, she pushed a small gargoyle back, revealing a glass panel beneath its base. Her palm swept flat over the panel and after a moment, there was a light click behind the crypt door. The gargoyle was pushed back into place and Iris opened the door.
They followed her in. The crypt was bare, save for a tomb built in the floor’s center. Iris looked at the three men, “Okay, guys, let’s see some muscle, the lid mechanism broke in the eighties. And remember not to pull it completely off, we need to replace it from inside.”
Ares and Apollo regarded each other warily and Crow tried to push the cover by himself for several moments.
Mel cleared her throat, “I think it would be helpful if the two with the god strength contributed.”
After a moment’s glare, Ares and Apollo moved to help Crow and for a moment, the cover didn’t budge, but after a few more straining moments, it shoved over. A little.
“Right,” Ares groaned and Clio tried to help.
Cory, Alice, and Iris helped with the monster cover and slowly but surely, it opened enough for them to squeeze in. They dropped their packs in and Apollo went first. He flipped the lantern on.
“Rats,” he said.
“What is it?”
“Rats.”
“Oh,” she shuddered at his response. She made a face and shook her head, “I can’t go in there, I’m afraid of rats. I can’t go in there.”
“You can,
“You go next, I can’t, not yet, I don’t like sewers.” Her voice rose in pitch.
Cory dropped in and then Crow. “C’mon, it’s not as bad as you think,” he said.
“Are there, like, millions of rats?”
“There’s a few, but nothing to freak out about, c’mon, Al! Where’s the big sister who used to tell me C.H.U.D. bedtime stories?”
“That was different, we weren’t in a sewer, Ass!”
Miranda took her granddaughter by the shoulders. “We can do this,
Mel smiled.
“We do?”
“Unquestionably. I’ll go first, stay right behind me.” Miranda sat on the crypt and, with Ares’ assistance, lowered herself down to the steps that would lead her to the sewer. “Oh, my,” could be heard from her.
“Forget it,”
Ares caught her by the shoulders and turned her in the direction of the tomb. “Get your skinny, tattooed arse in that hole,” he said, his voice dropped to a growl.
Mel broke into a huge grin. “And we haven’t even gotten to the catacombs yet,” she said merrily as Ares lowered her to Apollo.
Clio went next, followed by Ares, who spent the next five minutes with Crow and Apollo trying to slide the top back into place.
Apollo finally gave in and let her ride piggyback for a while, muttering that under no circumstance was he going to carry her all the way to the Underworld and back.
“What a ponce,” Ares said beneath his breath.
“You wouldn’t carry me all the way to the Underworld on your back?” Clio asked.
“I wouldn’t carry Helen of Fucking Troy on my back if she were stark naked and promised me an empire and a stable of horny concubines when I got there,” he remarked.
“No need to get nasty.”
“You have yet to see me nasty, pet.”
Once their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Iris took off her trench coat and stretched a large expanse of rainbow-colored wings. With a quick shrug, she tucked them back against her, grateful to have the heavy coat off.
Miranda stared at the Rainbow Goddess with an astonished expression.
Iris smiled shyly at the older woman and led the way with a glowing blue battery-powered camping lantern. Their shadows danced on the decaying walls of the old sewer system.
Rats hugged the shadows, tiptoeing around the glow that surrounded the group of nine wayward travelers. Careful to avoid notice, they followed, always gaining in numbers, their tiny claws scratching along the aged stone as they scurried behind.
Like a homing pigeon, Iris never once stopped to think where she was going. Ares watched her every move, sometimes silently mouthing the “right” or “left” as he tried to memorize their path.
Clio sidled up next to him, “Wishing for bread crumbs, soldier boy?”
“I think the rats would eat them,” he responded dryly.
“You think they’ll be with us all the way there?” She eyed the creeping rodents warily, “You know what they’re doing, don’t you?”
“It’s his Mischief, his Mischief of Rats and Murder of Crows. His eyes and ears.”
Clio nodded in grim agreement and tossed a rock at one of the filthy things. “Let’s hope
9
Downtown LA
Annie woke with a start from his spot on the bathroom floor of his downtown apartment. A smelly, dank place had pervaded his dreams, a place being invaded by a blue light.
The holes in his chest were finally gone. With a loud groan, he pulled himself to a sitting position near the toilet. He splashed his hand in the water and rubbed his face vigorously. His black hair stuck to his forehead and he pulled a towel off the rack to dry it and get it off his face.
His filthy, stiff shirt was tossed into the hamper. He pulled off his boots while he hopped to the kitchen and pulled out a pack of Marlboros out of the carton in the fridge. He pounded on the box’s bottom to tamp the tobacco and thought of how it used to annoy Calliope to no great end. Annie lit a cigarette and inhaled thoughtfully.
“Calliope,” he said as he exhaled, and shook his head. He started a pot of coffee and returned to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he caught his reflection in the mirror.
What he saw shocked him – his long, straggling locks hung in limp disarray, he was unshaven, casting a dim shadow across the lower half of his pale face. Black eyeliner smudged around his raccoon eyes. His large mouth was cracked and dry, blood smeared beneath his chin and all down his neck. Blood and dirt caked under his fingernails and in the crooks of his arms. The hair under his arms felt glued to his skin.
Ugly, oozing scabs were the only wounds left from where the bullets had torn through his flesh, one beneath his left nipple, one above and to the left of his navel and one high on his right shoulder. They weren’t bleeding anymore, but burned and itched like a bitch. Annie didn’t dare touch them, but he touched their reflection reverently. He got in the shower and scrubbed the blood from his skin, gingerly washing around the marks.
Annie closed his eyes and saw it again, the one death he never meant to cause.
Clio was stupid if she thought he could murder Calli, he had never meant to kill her, hurt her maybe, but never, ever kill her. The bullets passed through her and punched into his chest with a force he hadn’t expected. The last thing they shared were those three bullets.
Pain and confusion had clouded her pallid features, the look of pain and confusion that mirrored his own. His muse, his Calliope, and he had shared her with Jim Morrison, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Janis Joplin. She had touched his mythology, names like Sid Vicious, Kurt Cobain, even Randy Rhoads, and he had outlived them all. He had done something they could never do – he had outlived her.
Annie stepped from the shower, wiping his thoughts of her dying face like so much fog on the mirror. Still nude, he walked to his closet and saw the back wide open.
He whirled around as though whoever had opened it was still there. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, he grabbed the closest thing to him, a dressage whip from the umbrella stand and stalked around the penthouse with it.
Finding no one, he decided it was time for him to get out of LA – it was far too dangerous for him to remain here any longer. Who ever had been here would definitely be back looking for him when a body didn’t turn up at the warehouse.
He went to the bathroom, shaved his face into a Vandyke, and proceeded to chop off his long, black locks. With an electric razor from beneath the sink, he shaved his head. His lean, muscular frame held two full sleeves of ink and the word “GOD” tattooed across his shoulders, marred by a scar in the center of the “G” now. Annie cocked his head at the stranger in the mirror and went to pack a bag.
After pulling on an undershirt and a pair of black Dickies, he slipped his wallet and chain into his pants. He pulled on some steel-toed boots and grabbed a black trench coat from where it hung in the closet. Clothes and essentials were tossed in a bag and he looked around the room.
Annie headed for the secret room in the back of the closet.
A small metal trash bin was pulled from the corner, and he tossed in all the pictures of the dead girls. He had shared his pictures with other “collectors” and they had done the same, the discrepancy that Ares had noticed earlier.
Annie, in grand total, had only done four of the girls that had their pictures on his wall. Anastasia's murder wasn’t for the release he sought with the others. It had been pure, unblemished fury.
And as far as he was concerned, Bliss didn’t count.
The pictures were doused with lighter fluid and he tossed in a zippo. Calliope’s pictures were gathered up and placed in a small folder in his bag.
Annie swept the penthouse for his various weapons he had cached and came up wanting. The weapons were gone, leaving Annie positive that the limey was the one who had broken into the back of the closet. With a small snort of dissatisfaction, he closed up his secret little room.
Smoking a Marlboro, he took in his grand downtown view, his thoughts far away. Annie grabbed his bag and keys, locked the penthouse up, and knew it would be a long, long while before he saw
10
The Underworld
The
They reached the bottom of the immense tower, looked straight up, and could not see the top. Calliope took a deep gulp of air and held it while she looked to Hypnos.
“What do you think?” He asked her.
“I think I’m gonna puke,” she told him.
Hypnos chuckled and gave her a sideways glance. He looked around warily and said, “I need to find the door, it tends to move around. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Calliope’s gaze focused just beyond him, she frowned and returned her attention to the God of Rest. “Okay,” she agreed.
Before he left, she stretched out her phantom hand and tugged him to her. “I’ll wait for you, Hypnos,” she said and kissed him.
Suddenly, she was everywhere at once, all around and inside him, she drew her breath from his lungs. She knew he could feel her, the real Calliope, and she was drawing strength from him. It frightened him.
Hypnos finally broke from her embrace, and cocked his head in bewilderment. “I’ll be right back,” he said. He knocked the great stones while walking about the tower, trying to find the elusive door.
Long after he was out of her sight, his stone slapping could still be heard. When she was satisfied that he was far enough away, her attention returned to the great oak that held her interest just moments before. The oak stood guard at the tower and Calliope gazed up at the lowest branch.
Despair settled upon her shoulders like a dark cape.
Stretched like a great cat, was a woman with coarse, thick waves of blue-black hair, eyes the color of peridots beneath thinly arched brows, and full plum-tinted lips. With skin colored a pale blue from a thousand misspent years away from the sun, her curves were sheathed in a
This was a creature unlike any other, a panther in one light, and a woman in another. A predatory smile danced across her dangerous face when Calliope stalked the goddess.
“Let him be, Persephone, this is between you and I,” Calliope said in a low voice. “I won’t fight you.”
“You don’t have a thing to bargain with now, so I wouldn’t be tossing about orders, if I were you.”
Hearing horses behind her, Calliope closed her eyes and let Megaera lift her onto her horse. Meg guided the horse closer to the Dark Goddess’ place on the low branch.
Persephone stroked Calliope beneath her chin, as though she were a precious pet, and kissed her on the forehead.
An icy kiss of death.
Persephone cleared her throat. “Calliope, Muse of Epic Poetry, history dictates that you are given a sentence in accordance with your crime. As Atlas has borne the weight of the world, and Prometheus bound to a stone and his liver ripped from his body again and again for bringing fire to the mortals, so shall you have an appropriate penance. You have given your knowledge of The Pantheon to the mortals and so we shall take that knowledge away. Take her to Tartaros, Megaera the Grim, and see her to her eternal place.
Remember, Calliope, weep not for yourself, but for the mortals whom you have given this knowledge of us to, for now they know of an immortality that is not to be theirs. A sweet, elusive shadow that they can never grasp.” Persephone leaned in and kissed Calliope like a lover.
All that was left of Persephone was a ripe, plum-colored smile, but even this dissipated like the rest of her, like the fog that would never lift from this place.
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