Chapter 4 The Eldest Heir
THE ELDEST HEIR
AUGUSTUS: TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER, ASSEMBLY OF DEATH UNOFFICIAL OUTPOST, SIBERIA
Silently, I slipped around the corner and crept forward.
Poco was asleep, his chubby raccoon arms wrapped tightly around my calf.
“I found her unconscious in an alcove in the dungeon beneath our palace at Crete,” Hades said as he paced outside the medic room. “She jumped from Montana to Greece while injured … She’s lucky she’s not in a coma.”
He was speaking to Ares—my father.
The jagged scar across Ares’s mouth pulled tight as he listened to Hades, red rings flaring around his eyes.
Memories of torture played.
Every member of the House of War had a facial scar—he demanded it.
Lights flickered and there was a loud sputtering as the generator struggled to sustain power.
As I crept through the shadows, all three of Cerberus’s heads turned to me.
Animals could sense the Chthonic power in my eyes, and their instincts warned them I was a predator not to be messed with.
Unaware of his protector’s stand-off, Hades leaned closer to Ares. “Thank Kronos I found Alexis when I did.”
“Yes,” Ares said like he was carefully choosing each word. “It’s a good thing … you were the one to find her.”
Pain pierced my skull.
Migraines from the strength of my Chthonic abilities had plagued me all my life, but they were sharper now. Ever since the marriage bond, blood dripped from my eyes whenever I used my abilities or felt strong emotions.
My power had increased, in the most awful of ways—Kronos himself was punishing me for trapping my wife.
Hades made a strange face.
Does he have a secret?
The door slammed open and a doctor rushed out, bright light flooding the hall.
On the doctor’s Olympian white coat was the ancient symbol of Spartan healing—the Rod of Asclepius—it was a glowing staff with a snake wrapped around it, framed with wings.
The wings represented creatures. A snake for Chthonics. Olympians were the rod.
The ancient symbol of life and death was splattered with unnaturally vibrant blood, which meant a Spartan was hemorrhaging, excessively.
My stomach sank.
The doctor bowed shakily to Hades. “I’m going to contact my colleagues and get her the newest Olympian paste,” she said in a rush. “For the damage.”
Hades nodded, and she leapt away.
Olympian research laboratories produced lifesaving medical products.
I stared down at the WSDL engraving on my gun.
Ares started the weapons company, formerly called Death Tools. He specialized in spiky spears nicknamed lizard killers; the slain flopped around on them before they died.
Ares refused to manufacture anything else, even though they didn’t perform well in modern times, so the other Chthonic leaders gave the business to me.
He’d never forgiven me for taking it over and renaming it WSDL, even though the inheritance laws were written in the company’s bylaws.
I rubbed at my facial scar, the one he gave me.
There was a loud creaking as the door to the sterile white medical room swung back and forth. Inside, two figures were hooked up to beeping machines.
Fuck.
Hermos had a thick cast wrapped around his head (Kharon’s handiwork).
Alexis was across from him lying on a gurney, covered head to toe in bandages—half of her face was swollen and bruised, a sickly shade of purple under the neon lights. Her strange protector lay with its head on its paws on the floor beside her bed.
She was shot and leapt three times. It’s all your fault.
I should have acted sooner. I should have stopped her, but I’d wanted to respect her autonomy.
No woman should ever be so heavily bandaged, and certainly not my woman.
She should be always guarded. Coddled. Pampered.
Your wife is injured under your fucking watch. You’re a Kronos damned disgrace of a man.
The pounding in my skull escalated as the door swung.
“What are you doing?” Hades’s voice echoed like a gunshot and Cerberus growled. “Only leaders are allowed here. You were told to wait in the rec room.”
Ares looked at me with disgust, then turned and left, leaving me alone with the other leader.
Fuck you, Father.
Hades stepped in front of the door, blocking me from entering the medical room.
I didn’t remember moving forward.
“Why does she look like … that?” My voice shook as I tried to look over his shoulder through the small glass window.
There was a loud sputtering. Everything went dark as the lights all went out at once.
The hall was pitch-black except for Cerberus’s six yellow eyes.
Hades took a step closer.
The generator groaned noisily and there was a whirring—sickly green lights flickered back on weakly, dimmer than before.
“She leapt multiple times with a bullet wound,” Hades spat. “She staggered around our cellar disoriented and collapsed face-first against rocks. Her body was so weak from leaping that she bruised easily.”
There was an unnatural tenor to his voice. He looked almost … guilty.
“I need to see her.” I stepped to the side to see past him.
Hades moved with me. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
Inky tendrils of fog poured off him in an insidious stream.
Hundreds of voices screamed—“You’re a killer. A monster. No one could ever care for someone like you.”
Every mind that I’d tortured—tortured me back.
Alexis’s soft voice was the loudest of them all. “I hate you. You violated me. I will never love you. You will never be my husband.”
The pounding in my skull reached a fever pitch and my right knee almost gave out.
The voices shrieked louder.
“You’ve done enough damage to my daughter already.” Hades spoke my fears aloud.
His power wrapped around my neck in a noose—all warmth disappeared from the world—my breath came out in an icy cloud.
Frozen lips cracked as I parted them. “I need to be with her.”
It was getting harder to see.
“No—you need to leave her the fuck alone,” Hades said icily. “You’re a disgrace of a Spartan, and if it wasn’t for the bond between you and my precious daughter … I’d gut you right here.”
He shoved me across the hall.
CRACK. My head slammed against the wall—the pain added to my delirium.
Cerberus barked.
“Leave,” Hades ordered. “Now.”
You need to get to her.
I opened my mouth to argue, but all that came out was a pained grunt. Soon the migraine would progress, and I wouldn’t be able to see anything.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” I whispered. “I do care for her and—”
“Leave!” Hades roared.
High heels clicked across marble. “Hades?” Aphrodite called out from down the hall. “Unusual Titan presence has been sighted near Rome—Artemis has assigned you and Ares to investigate. Wait, Augustus—why the fuck aren’t you in the rec room with the others?”
“I’m heading there now,” I said hoarsely.
I waited for Hades to walk away first.
He didn’t.
“Leave,” Hades ordered, reading my intentions. “Now.”
I turned and staggered down the hall.
Ice nipped at my ankles as his power chased after me.
Usually, my migraines came with waves of numbness, but every bone in my body ached. Moaning with pain, disoriented and woozy, I bounced off walls.
A chattering noise broke through the anguish.
Something tugged at my pant leg.
I staggered to a stop and squinted down.
In the green haze, Poco tilted his black-and-gray face up like he was trying to tell me something.
He held up a little black hand, paw open expectantly.
“I don’t have any treats,” I croaked.
Poco bared his sharp teeth and shook his head. Then he held his black paw up higher, like he was waiting for something.
“No treats.” I grabbed my head.
He chittered louder, our bond heating with anxiety. Poco clasped his tiny hands together, then held one up to me.
“Oh,” I whispered.
Tentatively, I bent over and gave him my pointer finger.
Poco clutched it, his miniature hand unable to wrap fully around it.
Gently Poco tugged me forward, balancing against me as he led the way on two fluffy legs.
Moisture blurred my vision.
“Thank you.”
He chittered back.
Warmth flooded the bond between us.
No one understood why I bonded with a raccoon and not one of the class six beasts that lived in the back of the menagerie.
There were hundreds of different species in Sparta, but only a handful fell on the beast scale: class one to seven, with seven being the highest and most dangerous.
Class seven beasts were virtually extinct. Spartans were mandated to kill them on sight.
Titans and Typhons were the two most recent creatures to be labeled as class seven.
Most Chthonics bonded with class five or six creatures in the menagerie: Nemean land mammals, the violent winged Pegasuses, the three-headed dog cousins of Cerberus, or the invisible dragons that nested in the secret caves.
None of those animals were of any interest to me.
It was the little guy hanging from a tree, who held out his arms for a hug with a bashful smile on his face, that did it for me.
Poco wasn’t ranked, but I didn’t care.
He was perfect how he was.
Now Poco looked up at me with worry as he slowly guided me down the halls. His little black fingers squeezed mine tightly, as if he was worried he’d lose me.
Raccoons were fierce, intelligent, loyal creatures.
After a lifetime of Ares coldly lecturing me on power and honor, animals growling and running away, and Chthonics reminding me of my responsibilities, it was wonderful to have a true companion.
Poco didn’t care that I was the eldest Chthonic heir.
Strangely, he was one of the few animals I’d ever met that wasn’t afraid of me.
He just wanted to cuddle and play with my hair.
Years ago, when it all got burned off from Colchian dragon fire, Poco had cried and refused to leave my bed for a week as he scratched at my skull, in what I’m pretty sure was Earth’s first case of raccoon depression.
I’d grown my hair out ever since; I kept it long for him.
He was everything to me.
I’d slaughter anyone who dared try to hurt him.
Poco chirped and tugged at my hand.