Styxx (DH #33) (104 page)

Ash kissed the top of his son’s head. “I wouldn’t flunk Bas.”

“He’s only a year old. Even with his superlative gene pool, he won’t be taking this class for at least ten years.”

“Still planning to have him graduate college by age twelve, huh?”

“Yes. With a name like Sebastos Eudorus Parthenopaeus he does not need to attend high school for very long.”

Ash laughed again. She had a valid point, however Bas came with his own guard demon and a father who was a god. “I don’t think he’s going to have any problems with bullies.”

At least not for long.

Smiling, she picked her phone up from the end table and snorted.

“Pam and Kim texting more puppy photos?”

She shook her head. “Your brother has an extremely twisted sense of humor.”

His entire body went cold at the mention of Styxx. Ash arched a brow as every bit of his humor was sucked out of him. “What are you talking about?”

“I asked him for his mailing address and this is what he sent back.” She held her phone out to him.

Styxx Anaxkolasi

13 Phlegethon Way

Tartarus, Hades 88888

Lightly smiling in spite of the fact it aggravated him, Acheron rolled his eyes. “I particularly appreciate his surname.”

“Yeah, king of hell. I thought you would. And I love that his zip code is unhappiness repeated. Oh, and the thirteen for Hades and his river of fire. Even Lord Darkness would find that hysterical. Think I should forward it over to Persephone?”

Fighting against the surge of anger he felt, Ash cupped Bas’s head with his hand. “Sure. Why not?”

Tory paused at the look on Ash’s face. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be amused.”

Those swirling silver eyes burned with a torment she couldn’t begin to fathom. “I’m just wondering why you asked him for it.”

She was aghast at his words. “Tell me you’re not jealous.”

He dropped his gaze down to Bas and wouldn’t even look her in the eye.

“Acheron…” she chided. “Really?”

This time when he met her gaze, the anger and hatred in those swirling silvers set her aback. “We have a bad history, Sota. And you’ve no idea really how bad. You’ve only been given bits and pieces. Suffice it to say, I’d rather you keep your distance from him.… Eleven thousand years later, his paybacks still burn and make me want to draw his blood. It’s why I haven’t brought him in any closer. I’d love to give him a chance, I really would, but I don’t dare. You two are too precious to me to take such a chance with your safety.”

Her heart lurched at the agony he tried so hard to conceal. No one else would hear it in his voice, but she did. She was well aware of every nuance of her husband’s moods.

Since Ash had always refused to talk about his brother, or to him even when they’d been in close proximity, she’d known their past had to be brutal. But this was such an innocent contact that she hadn’t considered how much it would bother him, especially since Styxx had been kind enough to rescue her, and then had quietly gone his way and never bothered them again. “I am so sorry, Achimou. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I only wanted to send him a thank-you note.”

His eyes turned red, letting her know he was furious. “Thank you for what? Making my life miserable?”

She swallowed as she reconsidered showing him what Styxx had sent for Sebastos’s birthday. Would it upset him even more? But there was no missing the suspicion Ash had over her e-mailing his brother.

Better to allay it before it grew. The imagination was far deadlier and more destructive than the simple truth.

Taking her phone back, she went to Bas’s room then returned with the ancient box. She took the baby from him before she handed the box over. “He sent that to my office at work for Bas’s birthday. There was no return address on it. Just the small note wishing him a happy birthday. It wasn’t even signed.”

“Then how do you know it was from Styxx?”

“Open it.”

Ash wasn’t sure what to expect. Severed head … statue of an obscene gesture … live cobra. He had no idea, but when he pushed the tissue paper aside and found an old hand carved horse, his heart stopped.

No. It couldn’t be.…

Completely stunned, he picked it up and turned it over. Etched on the bottom, in ancient Greek were the words

To Acheron

From Ryssa.

Love always.

Tears filled his eyes as he remembered his beloved sister giving it to him for his fifth birthday. He’d been so thrilled … And Styxx had gifted him the matching soldier that their father had later burned in a fit of rage. It was that uncalled-for action that had prompted Ash to ask Styxx to keep the horse for him in Styxx’s room where, unlike Ash, it’d be safe from harm.

Tory smiled as she fingered the horse in his hands. “I figured it had to come from Styxx. Who else would have had it?”

Ash had to force himself not to splinter the horse as he heard Styxx’s angry voice in his head from the past.
I would pay to see you fucked in the ass until you bleed from it.
“The bastard mocks me.”

Tory scowled at him. “How so?”

“Why else would he send this if not to hurt me?” Of all men, Styxx had to know how badly those memories burned.

“I don’t know, Ash. Maybe he sent it because he thought you’d like to have it for your son. He has to know how much you love Ryssa and he probably thought that you’d like to have the gift she gave you.”

Still unsure, Ash returned the horse to the box. “You give him too much credit.”

“Maybe. And maybe you don’t give him enough.”

To have his own wife defend the bastard who’d tried to kill him made him seethe with fury. One good deed Styxx had been forced into committing did not make up for the years and years of abuse he’d suffered at Styxx’s hands. “Do not ever defend him to me,” he growled. “He was born a selfish bastard and he remains one to this day.”

She held her hands up in surrender. “Fine. I’ll lose his e-mail and block the account. Not that I think he’ll ever use it. As you can see, his response was quite terse, and … obviously he doesn’t mean for me to contact him again.”

“Thank you.”

Tory inclined her head then started to leave. Yet she couldn’t help adding one last thing. “I swear I’m going to drop the subject and never mention this again, but I have to ask … Why would he hang on to that for almost twelve thousand years and keep it so pristine if he truly hated you and is as selfish as you claim? It looks brand new, and I of all people know how hard it is to maintain something that old in that condition for this amount of time. That just doesn’t strike me as a labor of hatred, Acheron, but rather one of love.”

*   *   *

I
shouldn’t be
doing this.…

Acheron had sworn to himself that he’d never look at Ryssa’s journals again. He couldn’t stand seeing her handwriting and hearing her voice in his head. But after what Tory had said and the memories she’d stirred, he wanted to know something about Styxx’s life all the years they’d been apart.

Because the one thing that damned horse had done was make him remember what Styxx had received as gifts that same year.…

A fighting instructor who’d gleefully blackened his eye and busted his nose during their first practice, and the “pleasure” of attending court sessions with his father. When Styxx had asked about a toy present, his father had sneered at him.
“I’m not raising a boy. You’re to be a king, and kings don’t play with toys. You’re too old for play. It’s time for you to start assuming your royal duties, and stop being selfish and thoughtless.”

Styxx had only been five years old.

Ryssa had given Styxx nothing.
“Why waste my money on something he won’t appreciate? He has more than enough toys for one boy.”
But really, he hadn’t. His father had used them as a source of punishment. Whenever Styxx displeased him, he made Styxx burn them.

The only times he could ever remember Styxx playing was when he’d sneak away to be with Ash.

Ash fell silent as those long forgotten memories surged and he focused on his sister’s writing. Most of the entries were innocuous. Many chronicled whatever Styxx had been given.…

Today, Father gave Styxx an incredible black horse. It would easily cost four to five times the price of my pony. Father said it’s because Styxx will one day ride it into battle. But I don’t think so. I’m sure Styxx will be safely tucked in a chariot, behind a driver and two bodyguards.

Acheron flipped forward a few more pages.

For the Dionysian Festival tomorrow, Father gave me a simple gold necklace. Styxx was given an impressive leaf crown. He didn’t even say thank you for it. But then why should he? Father gives him everything. I tried to speak to Father earlier and he couldn’t be bothered with my idle prattle. Not while he had his precious Styxx to coach about politics.

Acheron frowned at the date. Politics? Styxx was only eight. What kind of political discussion could his father have had with an eight-year-old?

“What are you doing?”

He jumped at the sound of Tory’s voice. “Dang, woman, make some noise when you walk. You startled me.”

“Now you know how I feel living with Captain Never-make-a-peep.” She came forward to peer over his shoulder. “Why are you looking at those up here all alone?”

“Because I have this really annoying wife who made a lot of sense to me earlier, and I didn’t want her to know that she had me thinking about things.”

“Aw, in that case, I won’t tell her I caught you snooping.”

“I would definitely appreciate it.”

Smiling, Tory leaned against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. Acheron closed his eyes and savored the sensation of her there. She was the only person alive he’d allow at his back. She rested her chin on his shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

Unlike him, she’d read through them all.

“Information about Styxx.”

“Oh, I call those the Jealous Rant Series.”

Ash frowned. “How so?”

“Granted, I don’t know Ryssa. I know you love her and I would never, ever say anything against her, but when you read her entries as an objective outsider, they come off as very mean-spirited whenever she mentions Styxx. It’s as if she’s bipolar. Anything to do with you is sweet and complimentary. Filled with love and compassion and devotion. But everything with Styxx is, kill the obnoxious little beast I hate. Like the one you’re looking at.”

Tory flawlessly read the ancient Greek he’d taught her. “Today Styxx left for war. I still can’t believe how he embarrassed Father when he took off his prince’s signet ring in front of everyone and shoved it at him. I could buy a fleet of horses for the cost of that ring and he treated it as if it was nothing. He’s so spoiled. Nothing has any value to him at all. I told Father he should melt it down and make me one. I would at least appreciate it.”

She sighed. “Makes you wonder why a prince would take off the one thing that was guaranteed to get him home should he be taken by his enemies. Without that ring, he would have been treated as any prisoner and put to death or sold into slavery, especially given his age and physical beauty at the time. I mean that was a pretty big ‘Screw you, Dad.’ I know he was young, but still he’d have to be mentally defective to risk what slavery meant for a handsome teenager in those days.”

Ash swallowed as he noted the date. “Damn, he was too young to go to war.” Barely sixteen …

“Mmm, and speaking of, I wanted to ask you about…” She flipped through the pages.

“Wait.” Ash stopped her then flipped back and started reading.

June 23, 9529 BC

It was midday before I finally found Acheron’s whereabouts. I knew better than to ask my father for his location—that would only invite his anger toward me.…

Acheron shook his head as he reread it. “This can’t be right.”

“How so?”

“Ryssa brought me food well before this date.”

“Are you sure?”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t forget it. Acts of kindness toward me were rare enough that they tended to stand out.”

“Not what I meant. Are you sure it was Ryssa and not Styxx who brought the food?”

Ash grimaced as he considered it. “Styxx hated me. Tory, he castrated me. Brutally. You have no idea the shit he put me through.”

“And I ask you again … Are you sure? How many times has Artemis pretended to be someone else to get to you? Or any of the gods, for that matter. Remember in the
Odyssey
when Athena walks around disguised as Mentor? Or the
Iliad
? The gods were forever masquerading as others, for all kinds of reasons.”

She was right.

Tory picked up another journal and opened it. “And you never told me that Styxx was with you in Atlantis.”

“That’s because he wasn’t.”

“No?” She flipped to a page and pointed to the entry. “Read that one.”

October 28, 9533 BC

Styxx returned from Atlantis today and you would have thought that Zeus himself had come down from Olympus to grace us with His golden presence. Instead of being cross with Styxx for selfishly abandoning his duties and vanishing without notice or word, and worrying Father sick, Father rewarded the beast for it! He placed him in a suite of rooms that make a mockery of mine. How is Styxx to learn to be considerate of others when Father dotes on him so for his rudeness? It sickens me to see him so spoiled.

And when I asked him for news of Acheron, Styxx sounded just like Estes. “He’s fine, Ryssa. Just fine.” Nothing else. Not a single word about how Acheron looked or anything. Styxx didn’t even want to discuss it. He very rudely told me to leave him alone when I pressed him for more details about my brother.

He acts like he’s drugged or drunk or something. It’s disgusting, and he smells. The scent is fruity and cloying and repugnant. If I smelled like that, Father would make me bathe it off.

I should go to Atlantis and vanish for over two months, too, and see how Father likes that.