Gods & Villains (Curses & Gods #2)

Chapter 1

PHAEDRA

Charlie sways as we step out of the portal. “Damn, been a long time since I hopped a portal across the pond.” Eyes closed and hand pressed to his stomach; he takes a few deep breaths.

Battered by the crippling guilt swallowing me whole from what just happened with them, I stare at him until his words trickle past the wall I erected to keep from falling apart. “Sorry. I didn’t know it was a big deal, or I would have hopped a plane.”

He opens one eye to study me. “You don’t feel nauseous? Dizzy?”

“No,” I reply cautiously. Portals make me queasy but more from fear and nerves than the act of traveling through them. Although I’ve never traveled this far in one. “Does it do that to everyone?”

He straightens and opens the other eye to stare at me as if I’m an insect on a microscope slide.

“As far as I know. Mages in particular. In fact, not many mages even attempt it. Shorter hops, like Italy to England, are usually the norm. The big hops across oceans or multiple continents is a drain on our powers.”

It’s my turn to study him. We’ve known each other for years, yet I never realized Charlie’s powers were on the higher end of the scale. Maybe because he rarely displays them in front of me. Although…

I frown. “Your scent…” How do I put this?

He carefully considers me before answering. “Masked. Unless they’re protected by the council, most mages hide their magic.”

My brow furrows. “Why?”

He takes a deep breath, hesitating for a second, but with a lift of his shoulder, he eventually replies.

“Mages like your Jamison…have it easy. Generational magic gives them a huge advantage from the moment they’re born.

Their power only increases as they grow older and inherit more.

” He pauses. “And given his line of work, masking doesn’t make sense. ”

Your Jamison. The words pierce my chest like an arrow, and a lump appears in my throat. His steel-blue eyes were cold when he walked into the portal to follow Mathias and Hawthorne. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I take a deep breath and force myself back to the conversation.

“And you?”

His lips curl in a wry smile. “While I was born with considerable magic, I accumulated power a little differently. Inherited a little from my shitty father when he passed. Received quite a bit as payment for services like flying.” His lids drop to half-mast. “And some I stole.”

My mouth drops open, and my mind reels from the info he just dropped on me like a bomb. How did I not know this? “Supernaturals pay with magic? Seriously? And how do you steal powers?”

“Like gold, magic is a commodity,” he informs me, his voice tight as if he’s uncomfortable with the subject.

“It can be bartered or stolen by other mages or supernaturals like demons. Most of the mages I know have accumulated their powers in less than orthodox ways. That’s why we often mask our abilities. ”

The repercussions of what he is saying changes everything.

This whole time we’ve assumed Jamison’s father is the likely candidate because of his ties to the council and his level of power, but what if we’re wrong?

What if someone else is leading the mage rebellion?

Someone with a grudge against the council and current status quo?

“I see,” I state slowly. “How many mages would you say were on the same level as Lord de Vere or Jamison?”

His eyes narrow. “Besides them?” When I nod, he inhales sharply. “Not a lot. Maybe forty to fifty, including me.”

That’s hopeful. “Okay, not bad. You don’t happen to have a list, do you?”

While I don’t have the magic to take down the villain, maybe I can at least narrow the list for Jamison and his team. And possibly earn back some of their trust.

Charlie’s lips lift in amusement. “Should I include myself?”

I can’t help but snort. “You and Maverick are both clever and powerful enough to lead a rebellion, but it’s clear that you two abhor politics and associating with other supernaturals. A small private airstrip in the middle of nowhere makes its own kind of statement. So, can you get me a list?”

“Are you sure you want to go down this road?”

I nod. “If we don’t stop the rebellion, the gods could decide to interfere again. I doubt any of us want another war.”

His lips firm as he nods. “Let me talk to Maverick and make sure I’m not missing anyone. His network is a little larger than mine. We’ll get the list to you later today.” With a dip of his chin, he steps into a portal and leaves.

Alone again. I turn toward the garage. There’s only one safe place for these panels.

It takes minutes to store them in the vault in a secret compartment similar to the one the key is in.

For a second, I stare across at the vase that has been the bane of my life.

I’m tempted to smash it into pieces, but until I know whether this box has replaced it, I can’t.

With a heavy sigh, I lock up and head outside, slowly trudging toward the farmhouse standing tall and white in the afternoon sun.

A tear slips down my cheek, but I swipe it away.

There’s no time for crying. More tears roll down my face, and I furiously scrub them away.

But they refuse to stop. Pain mingles with the tears, and my shoulders slump.

I climb the porch steps and make my way over to my favorite swing.

Sinking into the plump pillows, I grab one and hug it to my chest as all the feelings I’ve been holding back rush to the surface.

Shame. Guilt. Two emotions I’ve let rule my life for thousands of years.

I should have owned up to my actions a long time ago.

Cleared Pandora’s name. At first, I was scared.

The world was turbulent, and the peace between the supernaturals and gods tenuous.

As time went on and the years blurred into one another, I managed to convince myself nobody would care.

After all, only a handful of people knew I existed.

Delusion is my middle name. I squeeze the pillow tighter.

What do I do now?

The answer is obvious. Even if they never speak to me again, I need to make this right.

If I don’t, the guilt alone will bury me, and that’s a heavy burden to bear.

I should know. Since I opened that vase, there isn’t a day that has gone by that I haven’t felt weighted down by that emotion.

But more than the guilt, my heart won’t let me.

Somewhere along the way, the attraction between us changed into something deeper.

And not just on their side. I kept telling myself our end was already written.

In reality, I savored their touch and the look in their eyes.

If only I’d known how much it would hurt. Them. Me.

I need to show them how sorry I am. It’s the only way. I shove the pain away and force myself to concentrate on what I need to do next. Find the box and narrow down the list of mages. Neither task will be easy, but it’s better than sitting here dwelling on the hole in my heart.

Charlie texts the list over a few hours later.

There are forty-six names on the list. Sixteen of them have a double underline, including Lord de Vere, Jamison, and Charlie.

In the margin is a note stating that the double underline indicates the most powerful.

I study each name. A few are familiar to me.

Names I’ve heard at Hawkes House, academic circles, or in passing.

I immediately scratch out Jamison and Charlie.

Researching these powerful mages without them finding out is going to be tricky.

The last thing I want to do is to alert them.

Even if they aren’t leading the rebellion, they might be involved in other less savory activities they don’t want made public.

I bite the inside of my cheek. I’ll have to think on it.

In the meantime, maybe I can find another panel.

Moving inside, I grab my laptop and dig into the possibilities.

Athena. There are several possibilities with two of the best-preserved ancient Greek sites dedicated to her, the Parthenon and the Temple of Athena Nike, in the Ancient Agora of Athens, which isn’t surprising, considering Athena is the city’s patron goddess.

Yawning, I glance at the time. Almost midnight here, which means it’s early morning in Athens. Given what Charlie said about long-distance portals, and my own reluctance to use them, I decide to take the jet. Besides, I’ll need gear.

Crickets chirping outside echo in the silence of the night as I peer through the darkened window. The sound used to be soothing to me. A reminder of home. Now, all it does is emphasize how alone I am in this big farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

All these years I’ve chosen solitude, keeping everyone at arm’s length, as a penance for opening the portals and ruining so many lives. Every day, I’ve done the job given to me by the gods, and all this time, the possibility of finding my sister and begging for her forgiveness was my end goal.

I never thought I’d meet a single person who could tempt me to jeopardize everything, much less four.

They made me want to throw caution to the wind and embrace the future.

Keeping my past a secret was wrong. I know.

Yet, for all my remorse, I still refused to own up to what I had done.

A harsh truth, but it’s past time I started being more honest with myself.

I opened those portals, changing the world into something it was never meant to be.

If the box opens portals, like I think it will, then sending Mathias and Hawthorne home might be the only way to gain their forgiveness and possibly my sister’s too.

The thought of them leaving steals the breath from my lungs, and the last wall around my heart crumbles.

Damn it. I lift my hand and rub it across my chest to ease the pain.

How I feel doesn’t matter. I must find the box. Before the enemy does. Which means I need to get busy. I sigh and look around the dark room. All I see are empty shadows and lonely corners. There isn’t really any point in staying here. Turning back to my computer, I study the rest of the options.

If I don’t find anything in Athens, I could move to Delphi in Central Greece, where The Sanctuary of Athena Pronaia is located.

The ruins are pretty substantial. Worth a look.

I sift through the rest of the information and find one more possibility.

The Temple of Athena at Paestum in southern Italy is also intact and very well preserved.

Tired, I shoot off a text to Maverick asking him to have the jet ready in a few hours. Although it’s one in the morning, I know he’ll answer. The demon rarely sleeps. Sure enough, he shoots me back a confirmation within minutes.

Quickly packing a couple weeks of clothes, I put everything by the door, shut off the lights, and curl up on the couch.

A few hours of sleep will be plenty. As I close my eyes, each one of their betrayed faces appears in my mind, and my heart stutters, but I don’t banish them.

Instead, I pull them closer and hold them tight.