The Heart of War (15 page)

In the bushes, Nicco strained to get a better look, his foot fell on a dry twig and it snapped in half.

Ares turned his head in the direction of the sound and then sniffed the air to catch whatever scent the air had to offer.  A familiar one came to him. “Nicco? Show yourself!”

There was no choice. Nicco took a breath to calm himself as he hoisted up his cock and stepped from the cover. “My lord, I don’t mean to interrupt you,” he said, trying to sound casual although the sight was most appealing. “Kat sent me to look for you. There’s something she wants of you.”

“Is there?” Ares sneered and then eased himself off Alena. “We’ll continue this later.” Suddenly his naked body was clothed and then he was gone from sight.

“Prick,” she muttered as she gathered her blouse and watched Nicco duck back into the bushes. Listening to the soft rustling sounds of him walking away, Alena was grateful the guard interrupted them before Ares forced her to confess that he was right.

Chapter Seven

The Green Monster

Uncharacteristic for the God of War, Ares spent most of the night with Kat and only Kat. She was grouchy and grumpy and the last thing he wanted—or needed—was for her temper to get out of hand while he was away. Therefore he tried to smooth things over with her before he left by giving her his undivided attention. As always, the sex went very well, but in the end it only served to make things worse.

“Who cares where she came from?” Kat huffed and pulled a thick bear hide around her as she lay naked next to him in his bed. “What does it matter? She is an intruder. She doesn’t belong here. You should kill her or dump her off somewhere so remote she’ll never find her way out.”

What caught Ares’ attention most was the tone of her voice and the cold gleam in her eyes. “Why such hatred, hmmm? What has she done to you?” It was an honest question. Other than having had the ocean spit her out, Ares couldn’t think of a single thing Alena had actually done or said to Kat that would anger his longest companion.

Rudely folding her arms across her chest, Kat stared straight at him. “Her presence insults me.”

“Why? How many women have you seen come and go from this island in the time you’ve been here?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light and a smile on his handsome face, but he was genuinely perplexed and that state did not agree with the God of War. “Twenty? Thirty? You’ve never reacted this way to any of them.”

Kat had seen exactly 47 women come and go from this island in the decade and a half that she had been here. 47. They came. They left. Well, no, they did not leave. No one just up and left this island except Ares. They died. Ares had the most annoying and frustrating habit of actually screwing them to death. Never had Kat seen or heard of anything like it before she came here. The first time it happened, it did so without any warning and Kat was 21. Ares was lustfully thrusting away into a woman called Charlie when he reached out, grabbed her by the back of the neck to hold her down and the bone snapped under his hand. Kat screamed, cried, and threw a fit as anyone else would. The same thing happened right up until, oh, the eighth or ninth woman that met her maker at the end of his cock.

By the fifteenth time it was old hack, all she did was sigh and help drag the body out of the cave to the beach where Ares would very ceremoniously and often even guiltily build a pyre and a set her aflame. He seemed to feel genuine remorse, but that never stopped him from doing it again. He went through women like other men went through clean underwear. It got to the point where Kat could tell who would survive their first night, their initiation into life on Ares’ island, and those wouldn’t within the first five minutes of their arrival here.

A very select few women met their ends because Kat saw fit to make it so. Ares might suspect that Kat had gotten rid of a woman named Petra a few years ago, that she hadn’t just slipped on the wet rocks and fell hundreds of feet to her death. If he did, he never said anything about it.

Kat didn’t like Petra. She was rude and obnoxious. She was older and, in Kat’s eyes, a lousy fuck anyway and she could not understand why Ares even brought the woman here. Most of all, Petra just would not bow to Kat and Kat’s authority—imagined though it was. So Kat got rid of her.

She had gotten rid of a girl named Krystal. Poor thing accidentally wandered to the south end of the island (after following Kat there) and been attacked by Cerberus. Eaten alive. Nasty business.

Another whose name had been Rose suddenly died of a massive heart attack at the age of 28. That was when Kat got smart. No more accidents. Rose had been foolish enough to point out plants to Kat; she was an herbalist and a very striking woman who was a rousing fuck, and Kat was almost sad to see her go. However, Kat had the sneaking suspicion that if she didn’t get rid of the woman then Rose was apt to usurp Kat and her place in the hierarchy.

One of the plants she pointed out grew a stalk of flowers almost bell-shaped, Rose called it Foxglove and said the root could cause a person to have a heart attack and die nearly on the spot. It was very sweet and easily added to any fruit, wine or dessert without fear of detection. Rose was the first to go.

After that, women dropped of heart attacks usually within a half hour of having engaged in a rousing round of sex with the God of War. This made Ares feel guilty and threw suspicion off her. Both were good things. Kat had already outlived all that came to this island before her and she intended to outlive all that would come after her.

Kat hadn’t come here to live with Ares to be another one of his whores. Nor did she come here for anything as altruistic as love. Kat didn’t love Ares and Ares did not love Kat, as far as she could see he was incapable of deep emotions such as love. No, from the beginning she had her sights set on bigger things. Gods could do anything they wanted and Kat wanted a lot. Most of all she wanted the status and power that came with being his Consort. She intended to be around when the Olympians called him back to Olympus and she would go with him and live in Paradise among the Gods. She would dine on Nectar and Ambrosia in great palaces as her body was dripping in the finest clothing and jewels. They would all have to listen to her because she earned her place at Ares’ side. Nothing was going to get in her way.

“You didn’t even ask me.”

Ares propped his big frame up on one elbow to look at her. “I wasn’t aware that I had to ask you if I could have a guest in my home.”

“Guest? You’ve never had a guest,” she said a sour voice. “Why do you need one now?”

Need one? By the way she spoke one might think Ares had extended an engraved invitation to Alena to come and live on his island. “Jealousy doesn’t become you. I find it flattering but it’s getting annoying.”

“I know what you did with her,” Kat shot through the corner of her mouth. “Or what you let her do to you. The whole island heard.”

“So? Afraid she was better at it than you?” he teased. Alena was better at it than Kat. Kat never elicited such a howl from him in the entire time he’d known her. Then again, very few mortal women ever had, so Kat shouldn’t feel badly about it. “I imagine your little spy, Nicco, couldn’t wait to run back here and tell you all that he had seen, hmm? Did he tell you that when I called him out of the bushes where he’d been hiding that the spunk was still dripping off his hands?”

“I won’t be made a fool,” Kat warned. “If nothing else, she should show me the respect I’m due. She’s no better than one of them.” She waved an angry hand toward the closed door near the foot of his bed, gesturing to the women behind it. Ares treated the stupid little mousy bitch as if she was royalty. He let her fill the cave with all of those damn plants! Flowers! There were hanging pots everywhere. Kat and Ares often turned a corner only to hit their head upon hanging ivy or other such greenery. He doted on her. He hung on her every word. Ares even gave Alena
her own room
! With a soft bed! And pillows! All these years when she was not sleeping on this hard stone she slept in a hammock in a communal room like the other women here. Worst of all, late at night when he was done with her and his whores, he made his way out of the bed, away from her and the comforts she had to offer, only to go down to little bitch’s private room and he might be there until near dawn.

“One of
them
? I see,” Ares intoned as he grabbed her jaw and turned her to face him so he could stare her straight in those blue eyes. Mostly what he saw was that Kat had forgotten her place and with whom she was dealing. “What respect would that be, woman?” he sneered. “By her very nature alone, Alena is better than you. She is
not
one of
you
; she is
not
a
mortal
woman. This you cannot change.”

“She’s not a Goddess either!” Kat cried. “You owe her nothing!” This was the thought that kept Kat awake at night, plotting ways to maintain her place and her position. Sex was the best way to get to him and maintain his interest. She worked hard to prove to him that she was the woman here who could please him the most. Perhaps she did not always sate him to the level of complete satisfaction, but she was the one who could take the most of his large cock without dying or screaming. That was why he kept her so close, fucked her so often, and let her get away with so much. What if the mousy little bitch could do it better? Once he got in that brand new hole and he was all wet and snug, what if Ares found Alena more satisfying because she could take even more of that hot staff than Kat? Where would that leave her? Then again, knowing Ares, perhaps Kat would get lucky and he’d fuck the little virgin to death on the first night out. It was altogether possible; still, Kat couldn’t take that risk.

“It’s you who is no better than them. You should remember that more often,” he warned.

Kat twisted her neck roughly and snatched her jaw from his grasp. “Yes, I am,” she challenged hotly. “If she is going to stay here then I insist that she be properly initiated. If what you said about Nicco is true, you’d better do it before the men take matters into their own hands.”

“Will they? Then let me be absolutely clear, dear Katrina. I will slay any man who touches her and stick his head on a pike. You
will
pass that message along to Nicco, won’t you?”

Kat tried to back pedal a bit but she was never good at such things. “Isn’t it bad enough you keep Onya all to yourself? Do you really need another little play-toy?”

Ares was disappointed as he shook his dark head and let out a long deep sigh that gave the air of surrender, then he grabbed her jaw once more and roughly turned her head toward him. “Listen to me, woman, and listen well,” Ares seethed, “if, while I'm away, Alena should, I don’t know, lose her footing and fall off the cliff or suffer a sudden heart attack, I will hold you responsible. Am I clear?” A satisfying wince crossed her pretty face as she flinched.

Ares did not get this old by being stupid. Before Kat came to live with him, a good deal of Ares’ women lived to ripe old ages and he took care of them when they grew old and frail. A woman who gave him a lifetime of loyal service deserved no less and he had sat by many a bedside holding a dying old woman’s hand and easing her passing to the Underworld. Since Kat arrived, it seemed the life expectancy of his women had dropped considerably. Ares long suspected Kat was involved. They were all mortal women and they had little significance to him so, to his discredit, he let it go but not this time. “When I leave the island I leave you in charge of the others, not so you can sit on my throne and have them wait upon you, but so you can watch over them in my stead. Don’t mistake my turning a blind eye to your misdeeds for my actually being blind,” he warned as he nodded, his onyx eyes blazed with flame. “Should any harm, any harm at all, come to Alena while I am away, I will personally see to it that you pay dearly.” The hand that had been on her jaw, pointed a finger toward her before it laid itself between her bare breasts and began slowly moving downward. “Trust me; one thing I excel at is making people suffer for a long…long time. Women are no exception; in fact they can provide particular amusement.” Between his thumb and forefinger, he tweaked one of her nipples with a vicious grip. “What do you think if I should put screws on those, hmmmmm? How does that sound, woman? I think it’s a good start.”

Ares was always big on intimidation; it had served him well and gotten him far in this life. This time it was different because he was serious. The tone in his voice, the words he spoke, the gleam in his dark eyes sent an icy bolt through her just before he tweaked that nipple once more, sending the tender area stinging with pain. For the first time in a very long time, Kat felt afraid of him as he reminded her of just who he was and the things he was capable of doing with a smile. Yet she had to push it just a little further; Ares did not respect cowards and she needed to retain his respect if she was going to hold onto her position. “Accidents happen. What if she gets struck by lightning or something?”

“Then before I thunder through the Gates of Olympus to take it up with my Father, I will have to ask you what you did to cause her to run out into the storm

Chapter Eight

You Don’t Have To Live Like a Refugee

1

Ceres Agar

Alena named it for Ares many times, and so he had no trouble finding the horrid place. Standing atop a sand dune looking down, the God of War couldn’t believe his eyes at first, then his ears, and then his nose. Acres and acres of desolation in the form of torn tents and ramshackle huts met his eye. Clustered so close together, if it hadn’t been for the dismissal colors, he wouldn’t have been able to tell where one ended and another began. His dark eye fell upon two buildings, far to the rear of the camp; compared to the hovels around them they looked like the Taj Mahal, although they were nothing more than rudimentary constructions of hardened Earth and thatched roofs.

They were Alena’s orphanage and school. She’d spoken so proudly of both but if either building were to sit on a lot in, say, her beloved Boston, the City Officials would condemn it upon sight and then burn it. That was his destination. Ares knew he would find Father Murphy and Sister Augustine within those walls, and they were whom he’d come to speak with.