Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
It made him wonder why his ancestor had assumed his brother’s name for their royal house. Surely he’d known the curse that name carried.
The House of Aricles had been founded on tragedy and they’d ended in tragedy. Condemned by the gods from beginning to end. But at least Bathymaas’s father had been kind. He’d taken her memories and had allowed her to live without the knowledge of her loss.
Turning his head, Styxx stared at the scar on his right hand where the Thracian had speared it to the ground. He could still see the insane, inhuman hatred in the man’s eyes. “For all the lives you’ve taken…”
Maybe Galen had been right when he talked about the death of his son, Philip. Styxx didn’t deserve to be happy after all the men he’d killed in battle. He’d deprived them of their futures and families.
Just as he’d deprived Acheron of his place as firstborn.
Perhaps this was justice, after all.
November 2, 2008
Artemis gasped as Apollo appeared in her temple on Olympus. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?”
She had no idea. Other than he was an ass and she was tired of dealing with him. “I’ve already fed you.” Her neck still throbbed from his vicious bite. “You should be sated for a while.”
He gave her a peeved glare. “Not what I’m here for. What is the disturbance I’m feeling from Atlantis?”
Oh, that …
“I have it under control. There was a group of archaeologists who uncovered a few items. But I’ve had them arrested and my Atlantikoinonia are on it to make sure they find nothing else.”
Apollo arched a brow. “And what did they find?”
Artemis sighed as she stood up from her chaise. “Eleven thousand years later and your human whore is still causing grief for us. It’s one of those stupid journals she kept.”
Apollo cursed. “Which one?”
“One that details a few secrets about you and me that neither of us wants exposed.” She rubbed at her bruised neck to illustrate her point. The other held the true identity of their mother and origins.
Anger flared in his eyes, flashing them to red. “And where is your pet?”
“Acheron? He’s off pouting … and seeking the journal himself. He doesn’t want his secrets exposed any more than we do.”
“Where’s his human half? And don’t tell me Styxx is dead. I’m still furious with you for having hidden the prince from me for so long.”
Artemis shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s on Katateros, and I don’t think you want to go there to get him, brother.” Acheron hated Apollo as much as she did. If her brother dared to step one foot in Acheron’s home, he’d tear him apart.
Rage darkened his eyes. “The prince is my property and I want him returned.”
She growled at her brother. “You need to lay on him before it’s too late.”
Apollo snorted. “I’m trying to lay on him, precious sister. That’s why I need him back.”
It took her a second to realize she’d screwed down the colloquial phrase. “Lay
off
him. You’ve been extremely lucky Styxx has yet to remember who he was and what you did to him originally. I don’t understand why you can’t just walk away. Why you didn’t walk away the first time.”
Apollo shrugged. “Thanks to you and Apollymi messing with his memories and life, I don’t have to worry about that. He’ll never know how to defeat me. But need I remind you that we’re approaching another perilous time when certain doorways will open and unleash things none of us want to deal with?”
“Which is why I’m getting that damn book back. Have no fear. I have it over control.”
“Under control, Artemis. And see to it that you do.” He snatched her against him and held her arm in a bruising grip. “Remember, sister, if you think I’ve been cruel to you, you’ve seen nothing yet. Get me that journal!” Then he was gone.
Artemis grimaced at the purple handprint he’d left on her arm. “I hate you!” she snarled. Most of all, she hated having to protect him.
But she had no choice. If he died, she died, too.
She rubbed at her arm and sighed. There were two places on Earth where no one ever needed to venture. The Aegean and the Sahara. Both locations held the keys that could not only destroy her and her twin, but the entire world.
And she would do whatever she had to to protect them all.
November 3, 2008
Drawing a picture in the sand, Styxx paused as he felt something strange … like he was being watched. He narrowed his gaze, and searched for the source of it, but saw nothing. Even so, the skin on the back of his neck crawled.
For a minute, he thought it might be Urian or Danger, but they would have called out a greeting.
As he reached for his knife, something slammed into him and knocked him sprawling. Pain exploded through his entire body.
He’d barely recovered before he was bashed again and again. Claws dug into his flesh and shredded him. Gasping, he couldn’t move as his back was torn open. The pain and rapid blood loss made him light-headed and dizzy.
Finally, his attacker sank its claws into his hair and jerked his head up from the ground. “You tried to kill my akri!”
Styxx could barely make out Simi in her demonic form with that red and white swirling skin. Her eyes blazed with fury.
“No,” he breathed.
She shrieked at him. “The Simi was there. She saw you stab him in the heart!”
Simi was the dragon Charonte he’d seen that had come off Acheron to protect him.
“No one attacks my akri and lives! No one!” She sank her fangs into his throat and ripped it open.
Styxx watched as his blood ran over his shoulder and down his arm, onto the sand. Too weak to move, he had no choice but to lie there and let death take him.
If only the putrid bastard would keep him for once.
November 4, 2008
Styxx stared down at the healing wounds that still stung like crazy. Simi had literally shredded his entire body. But then that was her job.
Protect Acheron.
I can’t stay here.
Once his brother’s demon daughter learned he was alive again, she’d be back. And he wasn’t Prometheus to have his liver ripped out every day and devoured. He’d been there, done that, and had no interest in the T-shirt.
The whole reason he’d wanted to come here was to get to know his brother and finally build a relationship with him. While Styxx was a slow learner, even he had to admit that their relationship was a lost cause at this point. Acheron had no interest in him at all.
Time to bury it and move on.
Resigned to the inevitable, Styxx headed for the main temple. But what he hadn’t counted on were the horrific memories that tore into him once he entered it. They were so potent, he was shaking.
Or maybe that was the pain from his injuries.
Either way, he winced as he saw an image in his mind of his being dragged, while bound in chains, across Apollymi’s seal. Even now, he heard Archon’s angry growls echoing through this temple as Styxx fought to free himself from the gods who’d laughed and mocked his “pathetic” human efforts.
“Styxx?”
He turned to see Danger entering the foyer from a side door he knew led to Archon’s private bedroom.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“I wanted to speak to Acheron.”
“He’s not home.”
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“No.” She sighed. “Sorry. But if you want, you can wait for his return in the throne room.”
The good news was that Simi should be with Acheron. He was safe for a little while.
“Thanks.” Styxx headed to the room before she had a chance to tell him where to go. There was no way he’d ever forget the layout of this temple. Every corner was seared violently into his memory.
Closing the doors behind him, he shook his head at the sight of Acheron’s black throne. Finally, his brother had one. If only Acheron knew the reality of what being the heir to Didymos was really like. But then most princes didn’t have Xerxes for their father. Maybe those princes did have a great, pampered life.…
“Who the fuck let him out?” Acheron’s angry voice outside the door interrupted his thoughts.
Missed you, too, brother
.
Urian’s tone was filled with mischievous humor. “The girl ghost who wants the two of you to kiss and make up.”
“I’d rather be hit in the head with the tack hammer Tory threw at me.”
“Tory?” Urian asked.
“Long story.” Acheron let out a tired sigh. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll go deal with him.”
Deal with me … yeah
. The coward had never dealt with him. He just tossed Styxx into his next prison and put him out of his thoughts.
The doors flew open in a staunch show of power much like Archon used to do when he reigned here. Dressed in an Atlantean formesta that bore Acheron’s sun symbol and a pair of black leather pants, his brother walked toward him like a predator. As if such a move would ever intimidate a man who’d been forced to fight every day for his life.
And as Acheron approached, Styxx heard the voice that was tormenting Acheron at the sight of him.
Estes’s.
How dare you make me want you like you do. I hate you for what you do to me, you disgusting whore. I. Hate. You.
Yeah, Estes had fucked them both in so many ways.
“I’m really not in the mood to deal with you, Styxx. What little patience I have was eaten alive about two minutes ago.”
That explained some of the throbbing pain Styxx had. It worsened as Acheron neared. So, everything he felt wasn’t all from Simi’s attack. Figured.
Styxx forced himself to be submissive even though it went completely against his nature. “I know. I can sense your moods … it was a gift,” he said sarcastically since Acheron couldn’t remember the fact that he’d been the one who gave it to Styxx when their life forces were joined together by Acheron’s mother, “from Artemis when she threw me into Tartarus. I’m only here to ask you one favor.”
Acheron sneered at him. “You would dare ask another favor of me?”
When the hell had he ever asked Acheron for a first one?
Oh yeah … that’s right. He remembered now.
Please, brother, please, send me to Katateros and let me starve alone in the temple where the gods passed me around like a bitch and beat me.
That was the favor Acheron spoke of. And how magnificent was his brother’s benevolence.…
Don’t open your stupid mouth.
A fight wouldn’t get him out of here. Acheron was just like dealing with Apollo. Cater to the bastard’s arrogant ego and he was pliable. “I ask as your brother and as a supplicant to a god.”
There it was. That smug glower in those swirling silver eyes he knew so well from the others of Acheron’s ilk. The ancient gods enjoyed their power and they lived to hold it over all humans. “As a supplicant, what sacrifice do you offer for this favor?”
Styxx had to force himself to stand perfectly still and not react to his brother’s obvious baiting. At least he wasn’t naked in a room full of Didymosian citizens with his father glaring while Ryssa laughed at his degradation.
I have nothing, thanks to you and your whore mother.
He could only think of one last commodity that he’d never need again. “My heart.”
Acheron scowled. “I don’t understand.”
Of course he didn’t. He didn’t have one himself so how could he comprehend what Styxx meant?
Disgusted, he explained it. “I offered you my loyalty and it wasn’t enough. So in this, I offer my heart to you. If I lie or betray you, you can rip it out over and over again. Chain me next to Prometheus on his rock.”
And hopefully when you rip it out, mine won’t grow back.
That seemed to finally appease the bastard. “And what favor do you ask?”
“Let me go.” Styxx had to pause to steady his voice and remove the pain and anger he held from it. “I can’t live here anymore, isolated from people. I just want to have some kind of peace that neither of us ever had a chance to experience.”
It took Acheron forever before he finally answered. “Fine. You’ll have everything you need to start over.”
Before Styxx could finish expelling a relieved breath, he was sucked out of the throne room and slammed facedown into the center of an apartment.
Loud sirens screamed above a dull roar. Styxx pushed himself up. The walls and ceiling were a stark white, as were the floor-to-ceiling curtains. A small black leather sofa was set against the wall with two matching armchairs facing it. A large, rectangular ottoman rested between them and under it all was a massive zebra-skin rug. Between the two armchairs was a granite fireplace, and a giant TV hung above it.
Where am I now?
Styxx was almost afraid of finding out as he crossed the room. He pushed the curtains aside to discover a large sliding glass door that looked out over some kind of park. None of it told him anything about his location. Not that it really mattered. The only time he’d been in the human world in the last eleven thousand years was the few weeks he’d spent in New Orleans over four years ago.
Opening the doors, he walked out to discover a huge rooftop patio that was even bigger than the apartment. Huge shrubs were in granite planters so that they provided privacy to the area. A travertine table was set in the center of it, along with six iron chairs.
Wow, someone seriously overestimated his social skills to assume he’d ever have six people sitting at a table at the same time.
He returned inside to search for a clue about his new home. Finally, in a kitchen drawer, he found an envelope with the address. 444 Central Park West. New York, New York.
That meant nothing to him. For that matter, he had no idea where Old York was, never mind the new one. But it was written in English. Still not that helpful.
As he searched for more clues, he found a driver’s license with his name listed as Styxx Didymos, and his apartment information on it. A couple of credit cards, a bankbook, and other things he wasn’t sure about. One of them was a small burgundy red booklet that had his picture inside. What was a passport? Why would he need it? Certificate of Naturalization? None of it made sense to him.