Chapter 22
PHAEDRA
“Damn it,” I curse, throwing my pen down on the desk.
Shoulders tight from hunching over the computer for hours, I realize I’ve reached another dead end.
Ares is the Greek god of war, but he’s also the son of Zeus and Hera.
How does he not have more than one temple?
Our history is littered with wars. Not even the Spartans worshipped him.
Honored, yes, but not enough to build him a place for his followers to worship.
The Thracians did, but the temple they built is long gone.
And the only one known today is rubble. I should have searched it when I went to Athens, but I was so focused on Athena and missing them, I didn’t think about it.
Strong hands settle on my shoulders, and I drop my head back to stare up at Hawthorne, who’s also wearing a look of frustration.
“I wish I could help you, but my search also turned up nothing.”
“Mm, at this moment, you’re helping,” I assure him as he kneads the knots in my shoulders.
“The only temple dedicated to Ares around today is the one in the Ancient Agora of Athens. It’s a pile of rocks, but we’ll have to visit it.
My gut says the panel isn’t there, though.
It just doesn’t fit with what we know of Ares. ”
“We can leave in the morning,” he offers. His hands slow, and I can tell he’s thinking about something. “I need to pick up a couple of books while I’m there.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’ve been secretive lately. What are you working on?”
He flicks a glance at me, then bends down to take my lips in a slow kiss that makes me melt into a puddle, his masculine scent invading my senses. “Maybe we can find information on Hera’s scepter.” His lips travel down my neck as if he can’t stop after one kiss. “Ready for a break?”
I spear my hand into his mahogany hair and lightly pull his head back. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you completely evaded my question, but you’re right. Maybe I can do a little digging the old-fashioned way.”
He squats down beside my chair. “Right now, I’m searching for options. A loophole. An idea. Anything that could protect us.”
Worry lines bracket the corners of his eyes and mouth. I run a finger down them, smoothing them out. “I hope you find something. We need all the help we can get.”
The serious expression on his face tells me he agrees with me.
“Has Jamison heard anything from Mathias?”
He shakes his head. “Right now, he’s busy vying for a spot in the top ten. They choose the contenders in two days. After that, he’ll try to figure out a way to lure Bennett out with the panel.”
“Are you worried about him?” I bite my lip as I ask. For the last few days, I’ve woken up every night sick to my stomach as I think about the danger he’s in.
“I am,” he admits in a quiet voice. “I know he was a general in the royal army back in Kallias, but that was a long time ago. Jamison says he’s lethal, and I have complete faith in his ability to accurately assess Mathias’ skills.
It’s hard, though. We’ve been a team for so long. Splitting up is rare for us.”
I lean in and whisper loudly, “Probably because Gatlin would throw a fit.”
“We’re stronger together,” Gatlin growls from the doorway. “Stop causing trouble. Dinner’s ready.”
I laugh, and the corner of Gatlin’s mouth turns up.
Hawthorne rolls back my chair, grabs my hand, and pulls me up. “Don’t antagonize him. He’s the only one who can cook.”
“Excuse me, but I can cook,” I say as we enter the dining room. Gatlin’s eyebrows rise, and I glare at him. “I made pasta when we were in Italy.” Hawthorne frowns, and I realize he was still out of it when I cooked dinner. “Well, I guess you didn’t get to eat it, but I did let you smell it.”
Hawthorne shakes his head. “Doesn’t count.”
Jamison, however, gives me a sly wink and proceeds to stir up trouble. “I’m sure Gatlin will let you take a turn in the kitchen. What do you like to cook?”
Gatlin’s fork halts midair as if he’s waiting to hear my answer.
“Everything. Chicken enchiladas, pasta dishes, risotto, seafood, you name it. I prefer to eat clean, so I’ve picked up quite a few recipes along the way,” I reply with a smirk. “Maybe Gatlin will let me in the kitchen with him sometime.”
My mouth twitches. It’s ironic that I’m trying to talk Gatlin into letting me cook in my own kitchen, but he’s declared the space his domain.
“I’d love to cook together,” Gatlin remarks, to my surprise, then proceeds to hold up his middle finger toward Jamison, making us all laugh. “Probably one of the few times I’ll have you all to myself.”
“True.” I set down my fork. “We need to go to Athens and check out a temple tomorrow. Hawthorne’s going with me.”
“We’re all going with you,” Jamison inserts before Gatlin can even open his mouth. “And since my powers are fully charged, we’re going to take a portal. Too many people know when we take the jet. Is this for Hera’s scepter or the panel?”
“Panel, but I have to be honest, I think it’s a dead end,” I admit with a heavy sigh. “I’m striking out on both fronts. Hera’s scepter is a myth. There’s no trail to follow.”
Jamison considers me for a second, then lightly shrugs. “You’ll find the answers.”
I hope so. Time is running out for Mathias. And once the vampires crown their next leader, they’ll turn their attention to me and the rest of the panels. The clock is ticking. Loudly.
The Temple of Ares yields nothing except a sunburn because, of course, I forgot to put on sunscreen. We’ve been here all day, searching for the slightest clue, but it’s just piles of stacked rocks. I swipe the back of my arm across my sweaty forehead.
“It’s not here,” I tell them, finally admitting it out loud.
Not that I thought it would be here, but a smidgen of hope had remained. For the first time in a long time, I don’t know where to look next. It’s an odd feeling. like a train stopped in the middle of nowhere.
Planting my feet, I place my hand on the rocks that make up the altar and offer a little prayer to Ares.
As I finish, I slip my hands into my pockets, looking for something to offer, and find nothing.
Not even a scrap of paper. I bite my lip.
I can’t leave here without giving him some token. I need…
Ouch. A sharp corner catches my hand as I stretch to reach my backpack.
“Shit,” I exclaim, lifting my hand to see the damage.
Blood drips from a small gash across the top of my palm. That will work. I drip a couple drops onto the pile of rocks as an offering and scoop up my bag to grab a Band-Aid and some antibiotic cream.
As I clean the wound, I can’t help but remember the first time Hawthorne and I visited when we were looking for the panel. I rub the flesh of my palm. I wonder if the brand is still there.
“I’m going over to Hephaestus’ temple,” I call out to the three of them.
They immediately look relieved, even Hawthorne. He loves digging through ruins as much as I do, but it seems to be all we do lately. We pack up the rest of our stuff and head over to the large structure.
Hawthorne looks down at me with a soft smile on his face. “Our first date and our first kiss. Maybe one day we’ll come back here and have another.”
“As long as it ends better than the first,” I tell him with a shudder, remembering the comatose state he was in when we left last time.
I climb the hill and enter through the massive columns.
At the entrance to the cella, I hold up my palm to the symbol etched in the wall and watch as the brand appears on my hand.
“It still works.”
For a long moment, I stare at my palm, an idea forming in my head. “We need to get some gold. The highest quality. Maybe five pounds. Jamison?”
His phone is already in his hand as he nods. “I’ve got a guy in the city. Let me give him a call.” In clipped tones, he greets the person on the other end and explains what he needs. A minute later, he ends the call. “He’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”
I bite my lip as I fill them in on my idea.
“We need fire. Lots of it. But it’s too much for one person to generate.
” I refuse to endanger Hawthorne again. When I search their faces, I realize they all look a bit skeptical.
“Honestly, this is a Hail Mary, but it’s the only idea I have right now.
While we wait for your guy, we need to shut down the site and block it off. ”
Twenty minutes later, after getting cursed out in at least a dozen languages, the last tourist leaves the site and Jamison’s guy arrives. Gatlin takes the gold, while Jamison finishes the transaction. I motion for him to carry it into the center and set it down.
“You’re going to ask Hephaestus to create the scepter,” Hawthorne murmurs in disbelief. “You know Hera rejected him, right? And later, he created a throne that trapped her in it until Dionysus made him release her.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they hate each other. Look, it’s long shot, I know,” I reply with a defensive shrug. “He probably won’t respond, but we have to try. Are you going to be okay doing this again?”
His jaw tightens, and he looks over at Jamison. “It will be easier with the two of us. Say the word when you’re ready.”
I move to the center of the room where the painting used to be and hold my hand over the symbol on the floor. The brand begins to glow, and the light appears on the floor, shining up toward the ceiling.
“Give me a boost?” I call out to Hawthorne, and he conjures wind to pick me up and move me closer to the ceiling, where I find the matching symbol. I repeat the steps, and when he lowers me back down, I scramble backwards to watch the two lights meet in the middle.
And just like before, the floor beneath our feet rumbles; stones slide to the right and left, revealing a large hole. In the center, the golden anvil with the hammer lying on it begins to rise.
Hawthorne nods to Jamison, and they both release a stream of fire onto the anvil. As the words are revealed, I repeat them like I did last time.