Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore #2)

Chapter 1 The Survivor

THE SURVIVOR

“Were the human casualties avoidable?” Persephone asked softly as Hades stepped through the front door, his boots drenched in crimson blood.

Hades laughed and kissed her forehead. “The mission was a success.”

Weeks later, their interaction still haunted me.

Titan blood was black.

He’d never answered her question.

Now I slowly backed away from the sprawling House of Hades palace.

The ancient marble structure was perched atop a hill on the island of Crete, and the Aegean Sea spread out in every direction. On the western horizon, the sun set with burnt-orange rays.

Insects droned.

“Please, sweetheart, you don’t have to do this,” Persephone whispered. Charlie stood solemnly beside her. Hydra, the dragon protector perched on her shoulder, let out a mournful cry mixed with fire.

The flames were bright in the dusk.

Persephone’s frown deepened.

A sharp ringing sound echoed, and I tilted my head to see her better.

Only Charlie knew my secret—my left eye was blind, and my left ear was permanently damaged. A violent childhood had bestowed its marks on me.

It forged me into this.

A symphony of dying voices screamed inside my head—I’d slain them all.

Alexis, you’re not an evil person.

My real name was Hercules.

Yes, you are.

I gritted my teeth.

It wasn’t real.

Yes, it is.

It had only taken twenty years for me to lose my mind.

Persephone’s fingers whitened where she clung to Charlie’s arm, their togas whipping in the spring sea breeze.

Shadowy waves crept along the shoreline as the sun disappeared.

Night had arrived.

I pushed back the sleeve of my cloak. Lips pulling up in a false smile, I gently pressed my fingers to the “C+A” tattooed messily across my forearm. Persephone’s recent gift to me, two dainty golden cuffs, covered my scarred wrists. My wedding bracelet clinked against one of them.

Charlie nodded at me solemnly from his lanky height, his yellow eyes soft as he mimicked the gesture.

Nyx shifted beneath the loose folds of my exercise toga, her grip tighter than usual around my torso. Fluffy Jr. let out a low whine as he crouched at my feet, our protector bond trembling.

Trepidation prickled the back of my neck.

Every instinct screamed at me to wrap myself around Charlie. In a perfect world I’d never leave his side. In a perfect world I’d be human.

I wasn’t.

This was Sparta.

God, please save my soul.

The flame from the torches lining the palace entrance cast warped shadows across our faces: mother, daughter, and newly adopted son.

It was far too late for my salvation.

“I know exactly what you’re feeling.” Persephone’s voice echoed, her bare toes curling into the short grasses that competed with rocks to decorate the landscape. “Your fear and rage leave a bitter residue in the earth. I can taste your … impulses.”

She was being kind. Holding back from airing the depth of my shame in front of Charlie. But I saw it in the panicked expression on her face.

She could taste my delirium. She knew my murderous blood was boiling me alive and my thoughts were slowly melting with it.

In my mind, Father John was throwing holy water at my face. “You’re possessed,” he whispered, eyes wide with terror. “You’re one of them. An abomination.”

I nodded solemnly in agreement.

“Alexis, snap out of it.” Persephone’s voice vibrated with power.

I startled back into reality.

Father John was somewhere in Montana.

I was hyperventilating on Crete.

The blessed and the cursed, existing beneath the same stars.

“Alexis, please,” Persephone urged, blond curls rising beneath her gold laurel crown as she used her powers to commune with the land.

Her mother was Demeter, but her father was Iasion, a terrifying dark creature who was rumored to have power over plants—she took after him.

Persephone was gentle and caring, but her powers were petrifying.

Case in point: I was losing my mind, and she could literally feel it happening.

In the last few months living on Crete—avoiding Satan and Evil Incarnate (my husbands) and trying to find a single smidgen of mental health (still searching)—I’d learned that it was a common misconception that the House of Hades owned the island.

Hades didn’t own Crete.

Persephone did.

Their marriage bond had twisted her creature powers into something insidious.

She’d sunk them deep into the rocky soil and claimed the land. She could literally feel every person, animal, and plant that roamed across it. The longer anyone stayed, the more attuned she was to them.

You could never deceive her.

It was why, except for my parents, the island was abandoned.

No one from Sparta visited. Ever.

“You’re so troubled with ugly emotions, daughter … Please don’t let them guide you,” Persephone said slowly, carefully choosing her words. “You can live here safely—your time fighting can be over.”

Her curls rose higher, defying gravity.

“The federation cannot force you to participate in the Assembly of Death,” she said, as Hydra let out another roar of orange flame. “They can’t take you from this land.”

Dragon fire illuminated the love in her eyes.

“Live in safety—be better than those who hurt you.”

All I’d ever wanted was a quiet, simple life for Charlie and me. Food, bed, and a roof above our heads. The freedom to spend my days learning and studying.

What she offered was heaven.

But after twenty agonizing years in this world, I’d finally accepted the truth. I wasn’t made for a life of ease—I was destined to make those who hurt me suffer.

Sparta would learn.

I would wield my powers, or I’d die trying. Most likely the latter.

Penance and revenge were separated by a razor-sharp edge, and I was already inching across it.

Persephone’s voice echoed with power. “If you walk this path, Alexis, it will not be easy. The cost to your soul will be great—but I believe in you. You can pay it. You just won’t emerge the same. Remember … our world is not a kind one.”

I pulled the hood of my new cloak over my spiked ruby crown. “Neither was mine.”

I’d already lost everything: my freedom, morality, and humanity.

Suffocating on existential dread, I turned away from Persephone and Charlie, hurrying down the hill before I lost my courage. Fluffy Jr. ran beside me, a blur of misshapen fur.

At the edge of the lawn, Hades was waiting for me. Cerberus sat beside him and all three heads turned to me, tongues flopping, tails wagging with excitement.

Fluffy Jr. jumped on him and they rolled together in the grass, both about the same size.

Hades shook his head at their antics.

Inky fog wrapped around his pale skin and long black toga in insidious coils; new voices from his power joined the chorus.

“She doesn’t understand what it’s like,” Hades said softly, breaking the silence. “Her power isn’t … restless like ours. We were born for battle.”

He reached for me—I stumbled away. He’d never hurt me, but lessons from years of abuse were hard to unlearn. When someone moved quickly toward you, you ducked. Always.

Hades dropped his hand, dark eyes lighting with fury—fog thickened around us and the world plunged into coldness—screams intensified.

He breathed out and his shrieking fog retreated.

Water lapped against rocks as the island sounds returned.

Hades’s lips thinned. “Remember what I’ve taught you these past months—survival in Sparta is all about power and fear. You must learn to embrace and harness your more … complicated feelings. No one fears the sane.”

I nodded, but my head felt like it belonged on someone else’s shoulders.

“There are only two paths forward in life for Spartans like us,” Hades continued softly. “Either we run from what we really are, or we hone it and become … legends.”

His black eyes burned with intensity.

“We are the ones who shape Sparta,” he said. “Your power is poison—you will excel in the Gladiator Competition.”

I wanted to cry.

Hades spoke vehemently. “You have nothing to fear from the Assembly of Death. You are my daughter. They will come to fear you.”

Hades smiled wistfully. “Both our blood runs in your veins.” He looked back up the hill fondly to where Persephone stood. “You’re our miracle child.”

I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t comply.

I don’t want to do this.

Hades straightened the long robe of his toga. “Do you have all your weapons?”

With shaking fingers, I patted the new leather holster that rested on my hips and nodded.

“And do you remember everything I told you about the Assembly of Death’s hunt?” he asked. “It’s just hazing.”

“I think s-so.”

“Perfect.” Hades cracked his neck. “I can’t wait to watch you fight this summer in the coliseum, daughter.”

I have to do this.

I would make my husbands pay for trapping me.

Hades stepped closer. “You and I are two of the most dangerous Spartans on earth. But danger is nothing without power—and power doesn’t exist without fear …

Make them fear you, daughter.” His voice dropped an octave, like he was letting me in on a treacherous secret.

“What have I taught you? Repeat it to me. One last time before we leap.”

He stared down at me expectantly.

“No one fears the sane,” I said on numb lips.

You’re already there, and no one is afraid except you.

“Don’t forget it,” Hades said as he extended his hand and pointedly looked down at his outstretched arm.

I laid my trembling hand atop his, and tendrils of his vicious power wrapped around my forearm, embracing me.

The House of Hades was synonymous with evil, and I was its favorite daughter.

“Domus.” Hades’s voice faded as darkness exploded around us.

Crack.

The landscape changed.

For the second time in my life, I stepped into Hell.

This time, I went willingly.

Smoke rose around my feet as pale moonlight filtered through an ice-covered forest and a frozen breeze whipped our togas. Hades dropped my arm and stepped to the side.

A long jet-black geometric building sat inconspicuously in the shadows of snow-covered trees—the Assembly of Death’s unofficial outpost.

Six Chthonic assassins stood in front of it.