Styxx (DH #33) (111 page)

“The world as you know it will end.”

He laughed bitterly at that. “The world as I knew it ended the moment my wife was killed. And anything remotely related to the life I once lived ended while I was held in solitary confinement for over eleven thousand years. I know nothing of this place and I have no dog in this fight. It has nothing to do with me,” he repeated. He headed toward his horse and camel.

“Tory’s pregnant again.”

Styxx froze as those words cut him to the quick. “Good for her … and Acheron.”

“Are you really going to condemn an innocent woman and her two children to live without their husband and father?”

“That’s not fair!” he growled, glowering at the Chthonian he wanted to shoot.

“Life, like war, isn’t fair. It just is. Isn’t that what Galen taught you?”

Styxx winced at the reminder of all he’d lost … because of his brother and the gods he’d hated since the moment of his birth. “You’re not helping your case by reminding me of Apollo’s treachery, Chthonian.”

“Fine then. Stay here in your desert. At least you’ll have the comfort of knowing Acheron’s widow and fatherless children will be able to commiserate with your pain.”

Whirling about in fury, Styxx threw the water bottle at him.

Savitar ducked. Had that hit him, it would have counted.

“I hate all of you!” Styxx growled deep in his throat. A throat that was still damaged because of Acheron and the gods who could never leave him alone.

Damn it all …

No, damn
them
all.

None of them had ever taken pity on him. He was thrown aside and forgotten like garbage.

Until they needed him.

All he’d ever wanted was a family. One person who treated him like he mattered to them. And all he’d gotten was disappointment.

Slapped in the face and stabbed in the heart.

By all of them. It’d taken him centuries to come to terms with the one single fact that no one could or would ever love him.

What the fuck does it matter? Really?
He didn’t have a life. He never had.

And he damn sure didn’t have a wife or a child.…

Never mind two kids.

Go ahead and die already.
There was no one to mourn his passing.

Angry, hurt, and aching over a fact he’d never been able to change, Styxx pulled his aba on then jerked his backpack up from the ground. His breathing ragged, he glared his hatred at Savitar. “Can you make sure my animals and gear go to someone who needs them and that my dog doesn’t get eaten by his new caretaker?”

Savitar was stunned. “You agree?”

Styxx averted his gaze as a thousand emotions pile-drived him to the point he didn’t really know what he felt. Other than hurt and alone.

But that was nothing new for him.

He met Savitar’s stoic lavender gaze. “I’ve never been quite the bastard all of you labeled me. You knew I couldn’t let him die, otherwise you wouldn’t have come here.”

“Thank you, Styxx.”

“For what?”

“Being the man I knew you were.”

“Go fuck yourself, Savitar. Just take me wherever I need to go and stop with the sentimental bullshit you don’t mean before I give in to my desire to punch the shit out of you.”

*   *   *

T
ory wanted to
beat her husband into the ground. “I would give anything to have enough god powers for five minutes to Force choke you with. You can’t do this.”

“Sota—”

A bright flash in the corner cut his words off.

Tory sucked her breath in sharply as Savitar and Styxx appeared in the room on Savitar’s island home where he’d taken them for safety until this latest threat was resolved. Alexion and Danger were in the back of the house, tending Sebastos while she’d tried to argue sanity with her obstinate husband.

Her jaw went slack as the two men joined them. The last time she’d seen Styxx had been very brief on the night he’d saved her from Satara. Then he’d been identical to Acheron.

Now …

Dressed all in black Bedouin clothing, he looked like something out of a Mummy movie. His wavy, short blond hair was faded by sunlight and his skin a deep, dark olive. While Acheron had never been pale, he appeared so in comparison to his twin. And with Styxx’s eyes ringed in kohl, they were a vibrant, haunting blue like the deepest part of the Aegean. Shirtless beneath the aba, he was covered by horrifying scars that testified to how brutal a past he’d survived. The sight of them made her stomach clench in sympathy.

Ash growled at their unexpected appearance. “This has nothing to do with him.”

Savitar snorted. “Ye gods, I don’t know why you two fight all the time. You’re just alike and not only in looks. You know what it tells me? You can’t stand yourself and you both know what an asshole you are to deal with … that’s why you don’t get along.”

Simultaneously, they gave him a matching droll stare that caused her to laugh.

Until they turned it to her.

That made her laugh harder. “They are like matching, moving bookends, aren’t they?”

A tic started in Acheron’s jaw. “You’re not funny, Sota.”

“I’m pleading Savitar on this.”

Styxx’s gaze fell to her distended belly. The utter grief and misery those eyes betrayed tightened her chest. To see that kind of agony on a face that was identical to the one person who meant everything to her …

She wanted to soothe him, but knew better than to try. Neither her husband nor Styxx would appreciate it.

Blinking, he blanked out his eyes and looked to Acheron. “Stop being stupid. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Go home.”

“Fine.” Styxx shrugged. “I’ll be more than happy to comfort your wife and raise your children in your absence. I’m sure after one night in my bed, Soteria will never remember you exist.”

Bellowing in rage, Ash attacked him. He threw Styxx to the ground and started banging his head against the floor. Styxx rolled and slugged him then kicked Acheron back.

“Stop it!” Savitar roared, putting himself between them as Ash went in for more. He passed a peeved, almost fatherly expression to Tory. “Have you ever?” he asked her.

“No. Do they always do this?”

“Yes,” the three men said simultaneously.

Styxx cursed as his nose started bleeding. He pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and used it to pinch his nostrils closed.

“Lean your head back,” Tory instructed.

Styxx sighed. “Forward’s better.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve been getting them since birth.”

And he’d ruined several of his sister’s gowns with them. Something Ryssa had held against him the whole of her life. Tory wanted to cry for him. “Can I get you anything?”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

She pointed to the door right outside the room.

“Excuse me.” He left them to tend it.

The moment he was gone, Tory stalked her husband. “What is wrong with you?”

Ash glared after his brother. “He always knows exactly what to say to thoroughly piss me off.”

Tory folded her arms over her chest. “You know, my father had an old saying—the sharpest knives cut both ways.”

“You’re defending him?”

“No, baby. I would never defend anyone over you. I love you with every part of me. But I also know you better than anyone and this isn’t about saving Styxx. It’s about punishing yourself. Whenever you feel guilty, you lash out. And if you go to them and die, you won’t be punishing yourself or helping Styxx. You’ll be punishing me and Bas and this one.” She took his hand and held it to her stomach so that he could feel their son moving inside her. “Is that really what you want to do?”

Ash looked past her as Styxx returned. The haunted, tormented look in Styxx’s eyes as he stared at Ash’s hand on Tory’s stomach was heart-wrenching.

He locked gazes with Acheron. “You know, a long time ago, my mentor taught me that there’s only one reason to go to war. To protect the ones you love. But life has taught me that sometimes protecting isn’t about leaving them. It’s about being here when they need you. It doesn’t take courage to die, Acheron. It takes courage to live and to fight.”

“And it takes a lot more to forgive.” Ash left her to approach Styxx. He held his hand out to him. “Brothers?”

Styxx hesitated. Then he slowly shook his head. “I’m not going to let you do this to me.”

“Do what?”

“Send me out to die in your stead with regret. How dare you. Don’t you even try to be a brother to me now when it no longer matters. I needed my brother eleven thousand years ago. I begged for a brother then and in ’07 and again even in ’08, and you turned your back on me and walked away without a second thought. Every time. I have no forgiveness inside me for you. Not anymore.” Styxx paused then laughed. “You’re right, Acheron. I am a selfish bastard. I had to be, because no one else ever gave a single shit about me except me.”

Acheron winced. “You can hear my thoughts.… I forgot you could do that.”

“You forgot a lot of things I wish I could.” He looked over at Savitar. “What do I need to do?”

“I need to take you to Apollymi so that you can fully pass for Acheron.”

He went rigid as if he couldn’t breathe. After a minute, he expelled a bitter sigh. “Of course you do. ’Cause my life just isn’t miserable enough.”

A tic worked in his jaw before he returned those cold blue eyes to his brother. “And yes, Acheron, I do know how much you would give to have your mother embrace you. The same amount I’d have given to have mine hold me. Not stab me in my heart because she birthed
you
.” He pulled the aba tighter around his body. “Take me to her. Get it over with before I change my mind.”

“Styxx—”

He held his hand up to silence Acheron. “If you thank me for this, I swear to the gods I loathe that I will put my fist through your face, and I don’t care how much it hurts me when I do it.”

Savitar took them out of the room.

Tory rubbed Ash’s back. “You okay, baby?”

“Not really. I’m seriously hating myself right now as I remember things I’d forgotten on purpose. Things I should have never allowed myself to bury.”

“Such as?”

Tears filled his eyes. “All the times when we were little and Styxx would try to protect me. There was this one time when we were playing and running around and I accidentally knocked over the bust of Styxx’s grandfather. As his father came storming into the room, Styxx shoved me under a table and told him he was the one who’d bumped into it. He had the hell beat out of him for being reckless and thoughtless. And after he’d been sent to his room with no dinner, I snuck in to check on him. He was bruised from the middle of his back to the backs of his knees. Horrible welts that were four inches thick from the cane they’d used on him. I asked him why he hadn’t told his father the truth. Do you know what he said to me?”

She shook her head.

“It’s what big brothers do.”

She pulled him into her arms as his silent tears fell. “Shh, baby, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Sota. I’ve seriously wronged him and I don’t know how to make it right. How can I let him do this for me?”

“I don’t know. And honestly, I’m too selfish for you to ask me.… I don’t want Styxx hurt, I don’t. But I can’t live without you. So my vote is to sacrifice him to save your life.”

“Yeah, but I’m the big brother now.…”

*   *   *

S
tyxx paused inside
the courtyard doorway as he caught sight of Apollymi sitting on a stone bench that overlooked a dark fountain. The hair on the back of his neck rose as the old Didymosian adage went through him.
A silent man is a thinking man. A silent woman is an angry one …

And silent women had a nasty habit of stabbing him when he wasn’t looking.

But this one didn’t need a knife to stab him through the heart. Not to mention, Apollymi had never been that merciful to him.

The last time they’d met had been brief and with an audience who had intently watched their every move. Then he hadn’t dared to allow himself to focus on her then for fear of what he might do that would get Urian killed.

This was the first time he’d ever actually looked at the woman who had taken his wife and son.

The woman who had taken everything from him.

And all to save the life of her own son.

He should probably hate her for that alone, but given the fact that he’d have sold his soul to have a mother who would just acknowledge his existence with something other than profound hatred, how could he? In spite of what Acheron thought, Apollymi’s unconditional and unreasoning love for her son was the only thing Styxx had ever coveted.

That and Ryssa’s.

Styxx swallowed hard as that old wound ripped open and flooded him with pain. Ryssa’s last words to him had been so harsh and cutting—in more ways than one. He’d done everything he could to make his sister love him, but her unwarranted jealousy and love of Acheron had kept her from seeing him as anything other than worthless, spoiled, and selfish. An unwanted nuisance. While he’d done his absolute best to protect and shield Acheron, Ryssa had ruthlessly blamed him for things he had no control over.

For things he hadn’t done.

But he wouldn’t think about that. The past was ancient history. Literally.

This was the present, and once again, Acheron needed him.
What the hell? Not like I have anything to live for anyway.…

Wasima and Jabar couldn’t care less who fed them. Dog either, for that matter.

Taking a deep breath, Styxx studied the goddess who despised him even more than his own mother and sister had.

Her pale blond hair was a stark contrast to her black gown, both of which flowed around her perfect body. Ironically, the Atlantean goddess of ultimate pain and destruction had to be the most beautiful woman who had ever lived.

The splashing water made a soothing sound in spite of the fact that they were both currently in Atlantean hell. Her isolation struck him hard as the memory of his own slammed into him and reawakened a horror he did his best every waking minute to forever bury. There was nothing worse than to exist in a tight hole where the only company you had was the sight of your own face in a cold reflection that showed you just how much you hated yourself.