The Heart of War (17 page)

It was impossible to drop her gaze from those eyes. Those eyes! Those golden orbs, they were poking at her, prodding her, and trying to find a way into her mind. She could almost feel him in there worming his way around, touching her in a way she never thought possible. “O-o-Olympus?” This was worse than she’d imagined. Not only was Cernunnos looking for her, now the Olympians decided to get in on the act. They were probably going to ransom her to Cernunnos and chose now to do it because Ares was not here to stop them. A few moments ago she’d been plotting and scheming her escape from this island but right now she’d give just about anything to see the black sheep of the Olympian Family standing behind Apollo. “What business do I, a lowly Fey, have on Olympus?”

“Only a lowly Fey,” Apollo chided, “what business indeed? You will come with me now, won’t you, little princess?” It was not a question but a polite command.

“I am not a princess,” she tried to protest. Perhaps it was the sea breeze or maybe it was the tone in his voice—or the fact he seemed aware that she hadn’t been completely honest with Ares—that caused her skin to turn cold and ripe with goosebumps.

“No?” Apollo asked himself as he stared at her. “That’s not what I heard.”

It was hard to find her strength, even harder to find her voice but, like Ares, Apollo’s was a commanding presence, and she couldn’t just stand here mute. “How did you come to hear anything about me?”

“We all know what you are. Does Ares? Hmm, have you told my black-hearted brother, Celt? Or have you vexed the God of War with your bitter sweetness?” The playfully chiding tone in his lyrical voice turned dark when he leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. “Tell me, little princess, have you done something that might offend my Father? Or your husband, Cernunnos?”

While she couldn’t see the slight smile cross Apollo’s handsome face, she felt it, and tried to back away from him. It seemed the warm light sand surrounding her feet had turned to cement while she wasn’t looking. Compelled to stand where she was, Alena breathed in the sweet scent of sawdust and sunlight. The smell filled her head making it light and fuzzy, the world seemed to fold in on itself slightly, and it was so very hard to think. His stare was broken and for that she was grateful, but this was worse. Far worse. Now instead of trying to look inside her mind with those golden eyes, she felt he was trying to ease his way into her into the secret places of her soul.

Enjoying her hesitation and silence Apollo also drew in breath. To his keen nose came the aroma of honeysuckle mingling something familiar; smoke, sweat, the deep green of the forest, and testosterone. Closer still, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her but not quite close enough for their bodies to touch, Apollo pressed his warm full lips to her earlobe and took in another breath before he whispered, “You know you smell of Ares, but not too deeply.”

There was little mistaking the implication in his statement. The lyrical tones of his voice tickled her ear and sent shivery waves throughout her body. His warm hand dropped from her chin to her throat where it massaged along gently but with an underlying firmness, making the air in her lungs hitch as it tried to escape her quivering lips.

Hand at her throat making its way across to her shoulder to push the material down over her upper arm, almost baring one heaving breast waiting so patiently for his touch. The tip of Apollo’s tongue traced along the nape of her neck as his free hand found the back of her head and entangled the fingers in thick tresses of silver-gray hair.

Distracted by the hotness of his breath and the hand on her breast, she didn’t notice when the other dropped to her waist and found nothing. Not even the trace of panties lay below the simple A-line gown. “Where is your belt of gold? Has my brother relieved you of this? Surely this will not please your Master.” The cup of his hand slipped between her legs and grabbed hold. She jumped and let out a little cry as Apollo wished the dress were not in his way, he’d like very much to dip a finger in there and find out how she tasted. To emphasize that thought he grabbed her a little harder, pressing his long slender digits tight enough against her to feel both holes ready for the taking. “Tell me, little Princess Maggie, are you my brother’s Lover?” The breasts heaving so harshly suddenly stopped as she sucked in air. “Has Ares had you in his bed? Or anywhere else for that matter?” The quivers of curious passion turned to icy shivers of fear. “Have you traded your virtue for his protection?”

“No,” she whispered and then thought of yesterday afternoon. It was a good hunt, a very good hunt. It was exhilarating and she’d been carried away by it. That was all. Yet, she couldn’t deny that she had been surprised to find herself enjoying it so much when she’d only sought to buy her way off this island. She didn’t know being so close to him, bringing him to satisfaction, would only leave her empty and wanting more. More she did not receive, so there, she was not his Lover. “No,” she said again in a stronger voice and pushed back from Apollo, but the arm at her back refused to let go. “I am no man’s lover or God’s.”

“No man?” Apollo mused and bit down on his bottom lip as he squeezed the space between her legs. “Ever? What a shame.” However, the gleam in his golden eyes belied his words. “I hear Cernunnos is a real animal in bed.” The little Fey began to shake; if he didn’t miss his guess soon she might even start to cry. “Though, when you offer yourself up to my brother, I doubt you’ll find him to be any kinder.”

“Get away from me,” she said in a stronger voice and tried to push away once more. Like Ares, Apollo was very strong. Physically fighting with either of them was a true effort in futility and would only make him angry or bring him amusement. She tried a different course of action. “Don’t touch me. You’ve no right. Are all of you so brash?”

Yes, they were. All Olympians were accustomed to getting their way at the drop of a hat. “Do I offend you, Celt?”

“Why do you and Ares say it this way?
Celt
.” Alena spat. “As though it’s some insult. In your golden eyes, I may be from a backwards country—not renowned for the endless time we spend philosophizing and mulling over the unanswered questions to the universe like your kind. You think us simple because we tend our fields and keep to ourselves, but I am proud of my heritage. Are you not of yours? What have I done to any of you? What does your Father want with me, Lord Apollo?”

“Lord Apollo,” he whispered, “I like this. I like the way you say it, Maggie, as though you know what it means. I bet Ares likes it too, doesn’t he?” Using those golden eyes Apollo tried to probe deeper into her mind. Apollo was very good at controlling minds to make people see things his way; he could even alter people’s memory, a smidgen of talent he inherited from his Father. “Believe me, Celt, your kind is not welcome on Olympus, this invitation is extremely rare.”

Zeus was convinced she knew something of the demise of Artemis, Apollo’s twin sister. This was why he was sent bring her to Olympus. If she proved to know nothing of Artemis and her untimely and horrific demise then the little Fey Princess was still a good bargaining chip, one the Olympians were not going to let slip through their hands simply to placate Ares. If she should turn out to be neither of those things, improbable but not impossible as it was, Apollo had his golden sights set on being the one who initiated and schooled the little princess in all of the ways of male/female sexual relations and then some. By now she must be so hungry, so ripe, and so ready to know these secrets. He would very much like to know what she looked like when she was caught deep in the clutches of passion for the very first time.

“Stop it, whatever it is you’re doing with those eyes of yours, just stop it. My mind is…my own,” Alena demanded in faltering voice. Feeling chilly, she wrapped her arms around her torso and took another step away from him. “Why do you sneak around Ares’ back door like a coward?”

“Coward?” Apollo said with disdain. “Careful, Celt. I am not afraid of Ares and I await the day Zeus dies so I can kill him without fear of retribution.” Licking his lips, he looked her up and down once more. “I’ve come to take you to Olympus, Magdalena, at the request of Zeus Himself no less. I believe it is an invitation you do not wish to turn down, no matter what my brother may have to say. Doing so would be…quite unwise.”

Yes, undoubtedly unwise but going with him did not seem to be a better option. Suddenly the revelation that she did not want to leave this island or the God who resided on it hit her. “Do not think me unwise or unkind, Lord Apollo, and it’s not that I don’t want to leave here and visit the grandeur that is Olympus. However, Lord Ares is my host and he has requested that I not leave here. I’m afraid I cannot oblige the Great God Zeus. Surely Zeus in his infinite wisdom will understand.” Alena hoped that she sounded genuinely contrite and not frightened half out of her mind.

“I hardly know what to say, Celt, other than you seem to be as foolish as you are beautiful. You have fallen for Ares already, haven’t you little princess? You don’t even know who he is.”

“Stop calling me that,” Alena said in voice that tried to find volume and fell a little short. “I am Alena and I have…fallen for no one,” she stammered and struggled to find the last bits of strength within her.

“Is that so? I thought your name was Maggie. Why show such deference to my Brother when he isn’t even here…Alena?” When she didn’t answer, Apollo continued and began to seethe.

“All I ask is that, whatever business it is your Father has with me, it wait another day or two. Just until Ares returns and then he can accompany me to Olympus,” she ventured quietly and watched the soft expression on his gleaming face harden.

“Ares is not welcome on Olympus. He’s not party to this. Haven’t you wondered why he sits here, alone, here on this pitiful
rock
instead of on Olympus with the rest of Us?”

Caught unaware, she was suddenly insulted and discovered she liked this island. “Pitiful? Rock? This place would be Paradise if your brother wasn’t so much of an arrogant son of a bitch.”

The hard expression and the stern eyes quickly faded, replaced by laughter. Apollo shook his index finger at her with a wide grin. “I see you know my Brother very well already. Now, know this, my brother sits here rotting away in Exile. Ares is banned from Olympus, stripped of his Crown and Scepter, and he will never be allowed to return.”

“Exile? For how long? What crime did he commit?” Undoubtedly, Ares’ List of Sins was long and colorful, but she couldn't think of what Ares had done to get himself banned from Olympus and have his position stripped from him. There was only one transgression that History taught her would have an Olympian banned from their home: the murder of another Olympian. Granted she was still coming to know Ares and Apollo could be right, Ares could be a trickster, but she couldn’t see him killing another of his kind in cold blood—or cold Ichor as the case may be.

“What crimes hasn’t he committed?” Apollo intoned and then stopped, hoping the single word would satisfy her but he could tell by her eyes that it did not. Ares was currying favor with the little Celt, how like him. How proud Ares would be if he were here to see her standing up for him. Apollo could only image the ways Ares was making himself appear to be the gentle but sternly sophisticated gentleman he’d always thought he was but could never become. How much wool had he pulled over those pretty gray eyes? “Come sit in the shade, Celt, and I will tell you a story about your host that will send you fleeing to Olympus with me.”

3

Kat didn’t have any idea of how long Ares would be gone and so she was altogether unsure of what she should do and how best to get away with it. He wouldn’t even tell her where he was going, all he said was that he could be gone anywhere from a few hours to two days. A few hours was not much time. Last night he warned her about harm coming to the stupid Fey, but he’d said nothing about Onya, and from the moment Ares disappeared Nicco had been on her to bring Onya to him in payment of her debt. In the Politics of Ares’ Island, Kat needed Nicco. She needed him to keep bringing her information Ares might otherwise not share with her so she could stay on top of everything.

The only thing truly standing in her way was that wretched little bitch, Alena. If she should come across Nicco having his way with her little friend Onya there would be trouble. Onya would keep her mouth shut or face worse than she was about to receive, but Alena would run straight to Ares and tell him everything. That wouldn’t do. She looked all over the cave for the gray-haired old witch and couldn’t find her, the door to the cushy little bedroom was open, but it was empty. If she was out there on the island flitting among her plants and picking flowers then Kat needed to know just where she was and keep an eye on her.

Exiting the cave and muttering under her breath of how much she’d like to deliver Alena to Nicco instead of Onya, she set out to find the woman who was causing her so much upset. Passing the guards she walked down the small path and, as everyone seemed to do, out of habit she looked toward the sea.

On the beach was the bitch and,

“Apollo. What are you doing here old friend? What are you up to?” Kat quietly asked herself as she took in the sight of the two of them sitting in the shade of a large fig tree near the sand. It was bad enough she had Ares' full attention, did she really need the attention of Apollo as well? Standing there looking down furiously, she wondered if she should go down there and check out the cozy situation, but she decided against it. “Whatever it is, keep her busy, I’ve got my own business to attend today.”

Kat had a good head of steam and boatload of anger with no target. Storming back to the entrance of the cave, she grabbed Nicco by his arm. “The cave below, twenty minutes. Bring a friend.” With that, she let him go and went to retrieve Onya so she could work off some of her anger.

4

The man standing just outside the gate was large enough to block out the sun and had the distinct air of danger about him but if he knew of Maggie then she would risk it. Sister Augustine stood back and allowed him to enter the gates before locking them behind him. “Ares is it?” she said as the corner of her wrinkled lips turned upward. “God works in mysterious ways.” She led him through what passed as a small courtyard filled with many one-armed children amusing themselves with tattered balls, sticks and rocks and into the nearby building and the shade. Each of them stopped doing whatever they were doing to look up at the giant stranger passing by them. Ares stared back knowing that at such tender ages they had already seen far too much. “Go and get Father Murphy, will you?” Sister Augustine said to a boy who was lucky still to have both his arms. The boy went off to do as he was told.