The Heart of War (58 page)

Alena didn’t like the way he was looking at her and she reached down to bring up the blanket. She’d never had the chance to say it before and she wasn’t sure what to do. Never did she tell Adrian he harmed her, she certainly didn’t tell Jaakim and his men. Why would they even care? “It was the curse and now it’s gone,” Alena stammered. It was clear in his eyes that Ares wasn’t happy with that answer. Her bottom lip began to quiver as she whispered, “Yuh-you…hurt me. You sc-scared me. Please…don’t do it again.”

There, she said it and now he could say what he needed. “I am so sorry, Alena. I know how little solace that is for all I’ve done, but it would seem that even a God has nothing more to give than those small words. Please, please, forgive me. I am so completely utterly…sorry.”

“I’ll always forgive you.” Alena let the blanket fall away as she wrapped her arms around him once more and pulled him down to the bed with her. “Come hold me, rest with me. Please, it’s been too long since I slept in your arms.”

Although he didn’t want to be in this bed with her, in fact he’d like nothing more than to drag the damn thing to the beach and set it aflame, Ares gave in. How could he not? Sleep had not been kind to either of them these past nights, she was exhausted and so was he. Pulling the blanket around both of them, Alena settled into the crook of his arm and Ares felt whole again. Wanting to feel the velvety smoothness of her tender flesh below his hands and in some small way to soothe the areas he’d been so unkind to last night, Ares’ hands ran past the flat of her stomach, continued down, and then stopped only to go upward once more and rest on her lower belly.

At first she was worried, by the look on his face she thought something was wrong, but then she watched his dark eyes turn big as saucers. “You feel the baby?” All at once she was elated and depressed. If he felt the baby then that meant it was healthy, but Alena had always been under the impression that the expectant mother should be the first one to feel the life within her begin to stir. She wished she could feel what he did.

“I do. Soon you will, too.” Those wide eyes closed as Ares drank in the feeling, letting it fill him with hope and gratitude. “He’s strong, Alena. Very strong.”

“He? You know it’s a boy? We will have a son?”

The disappointment in her voice made his eyes open. “A fine strong son,” Ares agreed. “You wanted a girl? A beautiful little girl who looks just like her mother?”

Alena didn’t care about the sex of the baby; boy or girl, she would love it just the same. “I didn’t want to know; when the baby came I wanted to be surprised,” she said sadly.

“Well then, the next child we have I’ll keep my mouth shut, hmmm?”

Laying her head on that hairy brawny chest she loved so much, Alena let out a happy sigh as she drifted back to sleep. “Deal.”

2

It was nearly one-thirty in the afternoon when Alena awoke—sick as a dog. “I told you you’d feel him soon, didn’t I?” Ares said in a soothing voice as he ran his hand along her back and Alena dry-heaved helplessly into a bucket.

“This is…not,”
puke
, “exactly,”
heave,
“what I had in mind,”
puke
. It seemed it would never stop; her stomach ached with each deep retch of the muscles. She hadn’t eaten anything since, well, she couldn’t remember, as such there was nothing to throw up. All that came up was only foamy phlegm and green foul bile that burned all the way from her gut, up her esophagus and lingered acid in the back of her throat.

Ares smirked. “I know.”

All of that retching made her head light when her stomach finally settled down. Feeling as though it were the right thing to do simply to stop as her abdominals felt like she had just done one hundred crunchies in under three minutes, Ares eased her back on the bed where she drifted off to a very deep sleep that only last a few moments before those lovely gray eyes rolled open once and color began returning to her face. “All right?”

Clutching one hand to her sore stomach and laying the other on her forehead, Alena moaned. “I think I’ll live. Thirsty.” She began to roll over so that she could swing her legs over the side of the bed, but he didn’t move from where he was sitting.

Alena groaned and then smiled. “Yeah, sorry.” She shooed at him with her hands until Ares gave in and stood up, holding out his hand to help her. Standing made her feel dizzy at first but soon the swaying stopped and the world stood still.

If he had said any other type of food then that might have made her sick but Alena loved Onya’s light fluffy croissants. In lieu of crackers, they sounded like just the ticket to ease her queasy stomach. “I don’t suppose there’s any butter?” Alena asked with a yearning sigh. Ares hated butter and as such there was none on the island. Then again, there wasn’t anything to keep butter cold here either so that was probably a good thing. She didn’t understand it, Ares was a GOD, he could have anything he wanted, but he lacked simple things like a refrigerator to hold butter, eggs, milk and cheese. He was wonderful at heating things up, especially in the bedroom, but in her time here she had yet to see him turn anything cold. How did he live like that? What she wouldn’t give for some vanilla ice cream, perhaps with a healthy drizzle of hot fudge and a dollop of whipped cream. Maybe even a cherry on the very top. An icy cold Coca-Cola. Such things didn’t exist in her old home of Ceres Agar, though they did manage to have a little butter and eggs as they were able to keep a few cows and chickens. Livestock was another thing that didn’t exist here. Ares loved to eat but he did so mainly on meat and the few—but delicious—wild varieties of fruits, vegetables, nuts and herbs that grew on his island.

“Yes.”

“Really?”

Ares didn’t say anything else; he simply led her out of the bedroom and into the hall. On their way to the throne room they passed Onya, who smiled instantly when she saw Alena escorted by Ares. To her Alena looked tired but she had a little glow about her as well; Ares, however, had a big prideful glow about him. “Feeling better?” Onya asked, still grinning as she rushed toward them. Ares ever-worsening mood hadn’t escaped the attention of the other women who lived here, least of all Onya after last night. They all talked in whispers about what might be wrong with him but were at a loss to explain his sudden mental descent. Last night, gathered in Ares’ bedroom worrying about Alena, they heard the crackle of the bolt, it sounded as though lightning had gone off right inside the cave. They let out cries as they ducked in fear of the thick rock walls crumbling down around them. This morning when he opened the door, Ares looked so relaxed and peaceful. Whatever had been wrong, Alena made it right with that Staff of hers. They were all abuzz about it.

“Much, thank you.”

“Why don’t you bring Alena the things you have baked for her?” Ares asked and then added, “Bring some of the things I have
bought
for her as well.” He still remembered her accusing him of stealing the crepes and how put off she’d been by that idea, so when he left today he’d done it purposefully and with a fat wad of Euros in his pocket.

“Bought? You
bought
something? Where did you go?” It was only now that she realized Ares was in common street clothes; faded blue jeans, his biker boots, and a black t-shirt instead of his usual black leather head to toe.

Again he didn’t respond, he just sauntered on down the hall to the throne room. Onya on the other hand gave a big smile and a wink before she nearly skipped off down the hall in the opposite direction. Feeling left out of the loop, Alena trailed behind Ares into the room and noticed a few new additions to the room. Two huge potted palms sat on either side of the burning hearth, all of the plants that she had hung haphazardly were now higher and straighter. On the table was a beautiful bouquet of fresh wildflowers in a very stunning black crystal vase. “What have you done?”

Onya skittered into the room carrying her usual silver tray but when she cheerily set it down in front of Alena, there were many odds things upon it. The croissants were warm and smelled heavenly. Next to them was a stick of butter. Next to it was a jar, even though the label was written in Greek and she couldn’t read it, the picture clearly told her it was raspberry jam. The jar was starting to sweat as though it was cold. The aromas wafting up from the tray made Alena’s stomach grumble not with morning sickness but with ravenous hunger. Picking up a croissant and breaking it in half, she began to slather butter on it when the contents of the golden chalice caught her eye. It didn’t contain Nectar or water but “Milk?” It had been ages since she had had an ice-cold glass of milk but just before she picked it up, she looked at him again. “It is from a cow, isn’t it? It’s not, ya know, goat’s milk or deer’s milk or…anything…”

Ares sighed and then snorted a little laugh. “It’s cow’s milk. The man said I should get you the one with the blue cap, he said it had something called ‘low fat’. But when I explained that you could use a few pounds on you he told me I should acquire the one with the red cap, so I did.”

Pasteurized. Homogenized. Cow’s milk. Unbelievable.

“The man? What man?” Alena asked as she wrapped her hand around the gold only to find it cold as snow, she couldn’t wait to take a big gulp so she didn’t. It was smooth and creamy as it went down her acid-etched throat.

“At the grocery store.”

Alena choked, gasped and sprayed a fine mist of milk onto the food in front of her. She had to hold tightly to the chalice so that she didn’t spill it. “The…
what?”
She looked behind her to Onya, who looked as though she was about to burst. “What’s going on here?”

Behind Alena Onya was bouncing up and down, her face red as a beet. “Go on, Onya, tell her. I can see that if you don’t you’re just going to explode,” Ares teased.

“He bought a refrigerator! A really big one!” Onya squealed. “He stocked it! There’s milk, and eggs, butter, cheese, yogurt, fresh fruits, all kinds! Orange juice, apple juice, grape juice! Fresh cold cuts! Steaks! Real ones, from cows, and chicken, and pork chops.” They were all so sick of eating venison and rabbit along with the occasional snake, which Ares seemed to find some type of delicacy, but the women hated. “There’s even ice cream!”

For years Onya had been after Ares to update his primitive kitchen. Ares always balked at the idea, believing he had no use for Modern Technology that didn’t produce great booms and mounds of destruction. Today he was glad he gave in, though he hadn’t done it for Onya and both women knew it. Ares bought the refrigerator to keep Alena well fed throughout her pregnancy, but that didn’t matter to Onya, who could not hold it in any longer—she dashed around where Alena sat, threw her arms around Ares neck and began covering his cheek with kisses.

“He stocked the whole kitchen!” It was difficult to prepare delicious and new meals every day when Ares only kept such basic ingredients as meat, salt, pepper, olives, figs and the like around. “Hot fudge!” A big smooch on the cheek. “Peanut butter!”

“Eh, stop it, woman,” Ares griped with a grin as he pulled Onya’s arms away from his neck and he smiled at both of them. “The next thing you know there’ll be television and that Internet thing here,” he said with good-natured complaint.

“Can we?” Onya asked excitedly.

“No,” Ares returned and then reached for Alena’s hand. “Not unless you want them. If you want them, I will fill this cave with televisions. I want you to have everything you want.”

Although it would be nice to see what was going in the outside world from time to time, “All I ever want is you.” Alena brushed her lips across the back of his hand. Then again, there was no electricity here so what use was a TV or a refrigerator for that matter. “How are you running it?” Alena asked seriously.

Ares sighed again. They were a good match. Alena lived too long among the Mortals, she had forgotten who she was and, now, where she was and who she was with. Ares on the other hand lived too long on this island alone, secluded from the rest of the world. It seemed that there was a lot they could learn from each other. “Is that a real question? I hope that it is not.” It didn’t take much of his magick to keep the stupid refrigerator running at maximum capacity; Ares hardly even felt the drain. He probably should have given in to Onya years ago but he was glad he had waited so he could see Alena smile at him this way.

“You know, while you’re feeling so generous,” Onya prodded, “we could really use a new stove.”

“Could we?” Ares asked, still smiling. She was right, of course. Ares’ wood burning stove had been new somewhere around 1700. Onya made her fresh bread and other baked goods in the ovens built into the sides of the big hearth. Sometimes she even still made stew in the huge hooked pot hanging over the open flame.

“You must have seen them while you were at the store.”

“I did,” Ares agreed. Stoves and other things used for cooking had changed a lot in the last three hundred years. They didn’t even have fire any longer; they used electricity and the little circles on the top heated up to a great degree in a matter of seconds. They were even self-cleaning, although Ares had yet to figure out how that worked.