21. In Which Swords Share a Place in Space and Time
Chapter 21
In Which Swords Share a Place in Space and Time
E vander fought the urge to move Ellie off the ship and somewhere safe. Valerius hadn’t just threatened her; he’d sent his psychotic little pets to find her and drag her back through a portal they opened themselves. He wasn’t aware they knew how to do that. Seeing her in the grips of the daemon, he had almost broke protocol and showed her the type of monster Athena makes out of ordinary men. His powers had surged during the struggle, mixing with the portal. Waves of magic rolled around them, pulling him to her, no doubt a residual effect of the daemon-controlled portal. Ellie was human. A human capable of taking care of herself, just as she claimed, but human, nonetheless. Her expert handle of the daemon had been impressive, and he had watched in gross fascination as she took perfect aim. There was more at work here than anyone realized. Athena, wanting her dead, was blurring with Valerius and his attempted kidnapping.
The daemons calling her the Serathena was also concerning. She was too short, too delicate, too human to be the mighty demigod created to destroy the gods. Olympians were tall, fierce, and cunning. Nothing in her warm gray eyes or soft feminine curves pointed to the destruction that made gods tremble. The only thing clear in this tangled web of uncertainty was Athena wanting Ellie dead was the very reason he would keep her alive.
Moving to where his sword came to a halt, the other in hand, he sheathed both and started towards the exit. His mind raced, filling with more questions than answers. He needed to talk to Camulos and Liam immediately. Valerius’s pets found them too easily, and he had ended up pinned, alone, without backup. His thoughts turned like a tornado; he was almost to the exit when Ellie darted in front, her hand bumping into his chest. He glanced down at her hand covering his tattoo.
The appendage slid down his chest, igniting his blood as it had moments ago when she crashed into him at the club return. She added the other and slipped them to his waist, skimming the top of his swim trunks, bringing her body closer as her fingers danced along his back. Her delightfully intoxicating scent wafted up as she moved, and his eyes fluttered closed as he breathed her in. She moved down both sides of his hips, running over his abdomen. His breath came in pants as her palms touched his skin, sending fire coursing through his blood. Her body neared again, and he stiffened as her hands slid up and down his spine. He jerked when she ran them down his thighs, cupping the muscles. She knelt before him, her hands continuing their sweet torture.
Forgetting himself, he said, “Whatever you’re doing, please continue.”
Her head shot up, brows tightened in annoyance. “Where is it?”
“Well, a chap doesn’t want to hear that, now does he?”
She let out a huff as her hands rested on either side of his knees. “No, the big swords.”
“I don’t know that I’d call it a sword , but it’s definitely big .” He shot her a saucy grin, his dimple showing.
“I’m being serious. Where’s the swords?” She folded her arms as she rose.
“Swords? What swords?” he said, pretending to be confused.
“I watched you pick up the sword from the ground with the other one in your hand, and then they disappeared.” She angled her head to the side. “Like they never existed.”
“I don’t know—”
“Don’t you lie to me, Evander. We were both attacked by flying monkeys trying to kill us that burst into dust. Or eat us. I’m still not sure about that. I tried to pick up the sword. They exist.” She glared at him. “I watched you put both into your shorts like you had a sheath, but I searched you. No swords. I’ll ask you for the last time, what the hell is going on?”
“Is that what that was? Giving me a patting down?”
She continued to glare at him, unmoving.
His hand scrubbed through his hair, a habit, he realized, he hadn’t done in ages until Ellie. “I can’t tell you that. Come along.” He headed towards the exit, choosing avoidance rather than honesty. “I need to find Camulos.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s happening.” She planted her feet.
“We have to find Camulos and Max.”
Her persistence annoyed him. Keeping her in the dark protected her. Athena expected her orders to be obeyed. His vow was explicit, as were the consequences, and he had said too much already. The longer he kept Ellie alive, the more dangerous the gamble.
“No.”
“No?”
“That’s right. No. I’m not moving until you explain yourself.” She tightened her crossed arms, challenging him.
“Suit yourself,” he snapped. Grunting as he moved to the exit, he hoped she had come to her senses and followed, he glanced over his shoulder. She hadn’t.
Damn stubborn woman.
“Ellie.” He turned around in a huff. She was in the same spot.
“Ellie!” He didn’t want to, but he wasn’t above throwing her over his shoulder like a barbarian if she continued to refuse to follow him. “We have to find Camulos.”
Her skin was flushed, her breathing shallow. Glossy, wild eyes met his. A limping step forward brought with it a grunt of pain.
“Ellie?” his tone softer.
“That thing scratched me,” she said flatly. A shudder went through her as she grazed a hand over her exposed thigh. Deep claw marks jutted down towards her knee; the surrounding skin was angry and red. “It’s nothing. It just hurts like hell.”
In one long stride, he was at her side, running a thumb alongside the claw mark. She hissed through her teeth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.” She shrugged her shoulders in that infuriating way he was beginning to despise. “It’s only scratches, but holy hell, they hurt.” Color drained from her face as she rubbed the wound. “Tell me where your swords are.”
“Never mind that. Shit! We need Camulos.” He tousled his hair with his hand. “You should have said something. How long has it been? Minutes? How long does it take for it to affect a human?” Pinching his nose, he tried to think. “Damn it,” he mumbled under his breath as Ellie swayed, her legs giving out from under her. He effortlessly scooped her up in his arms and headed towards her cabin.
“Where are your swords, Your Highness?”
Her head rested against his chest, eyes closed. She began shivering, causing him to quicken his pace. At first, it was slight, but as he neared her door, her entire body was convulsing. Her door flew open as he burst inside.
The room was tidy. A couple of dresses had been slung over a chair in the corner, but the rest of the cabin was neat. Evander strode over to the bed, laying her down on the covers. During times of crisis, the company relied on the tether to enable quick telepathic communication, and so he summoned Maximus and Camulos. He placed a hand on her forehead as she shivered. More color drained from her face.
There were three at first, but a fourth came in through a portal. I had to use some of my powers to close it, he told Camulos. She opened one eye for a second, but it rolled back. Come quick.
Her red hair was ablaze next to her worsening pallor. Shaking, she tried to curl up on her side. The movement was obviously painful, and she moaned. His hand returned to her forehead. She was burning up.
Nasty creatures, daemons, had sharp claws designed for ripping and tearing. In a few hours, the injuries of the warriors would heal. Evander didn’t know how long it took humans to recover from a daemon scratch. As he grasped her hand, he allowed worry to consume him.
“Ellie? I’m sorry.”
Her eyes fluttered, as if they were going to open. Berating himself for not being able to protect her, he rubbed her ice-cold hand in his. Hypatia had instructed him to disobey orders, and instead of doing that, he’d spent the last few days deciding who to listen to. That indecisiveness might cost her life. It would be his fault if she died. His fault for not protecting her, just like it had been his fault when Ann died. He hadn’t been strong enough to save her. He was pacing the floor when the leaders knocked on the door.
“How bad is she?” Camulos asked, concern written on his face as he walked in. He knelt down beside her.
“She’s passed out, but that scratch looks terrible. How long does it take humans to recover?”
“A day or two with this herb, maybe longer.”
Camulos gripped her thigh to examine. Blood had pooled along the mark but hadn’t dripped. He was staring at her leg and shaking his head. Touching her blood with the tips of his fingers, Camulos examined them in the light. The blood was a rich, dark red and shimmered like stardust. Camulos rubbed the small drop between his fingers; Evander watched as the blood glinted with each pass of Cam’s thumb.
“Why does it shine?”
Camulos flinched. Suddenly remembering the dressing and herbs, he pulled them out of a leather pouch. “Nothing. Help me get her to the shower.”
“The shower?” The trance of watching Camulos examine Ellie’s blood broke.
“To clean the wound. I need to clean it first, and it’s a large area. The shower will work better than the sink, plus she is in a swimsuit top and shorts. It’s not like I’m asking you to strip her.”
Evander shrunk back. “Camulos!”
He rolled his eyes. “Just help me.”
Working together, Camulos manning the water and soap, Evander holding an unconscious Ellie and trying to think what to say should she wake midway through, they got the wound clean. She seemed to come to as Cam passed soap along the wound, hissing in pain. Her shimmering blood ran into the drain. The cleaner the injury became, the less she shivered.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he scolded her softly, her head in his lap. He tucked a curl behind her ear.
Max peered into the bathroom, checking on the progress. Her leg dried, Evander laid her back on her bed, and he met Maximus’ creased brow.
“I don’t like this,” he whispered to Max. “They ambushed us in that room. Had I not closed the portal, more would have come for us. Why is Valerius interested in her?” He trailed off when Ellie moaned as Camulos dressed her wound.
“This doesn’t sit well with me either. I’m not sure why Valerius is sniffing around, unless somehow Ellie has something to do with that she-devil of a mate.”
“The daemons called her the Serathena, Max,” he said.
Maximus narrowed his gaze. “But she’s human.”
“I know.”
“The Serathena is a demigod; the Fates confirmed it.”
Evander pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did everyone keep reminding him of the Fates?
“Yes, I’m aware. My point is Valerius seems to think she is that demigod. The daemons didn’t kill her like they would have done with any other human. They were trying to kidnap her. He wants her alive, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”
Both Camulos and Maximus wore the same expression of doom.
“I don’t think she is safe alone.” Camulos spoke first. “She needs one of us with her. Valerius wanting her alive is suspicious.” He pointed his chin at Maximus. “He thinks it should be you.”
Evander groaned, pinching his nose. “Why?” he said, his hand still on the bridge. “Why does everyone keep saying that? First Hypatia, now you.”
“Hypatia was on Earth?” Maximus interrupted.
“Yes. Hypatia thinks Athena is wrong. She gave me instructions to protect her. Now, you. We all know what will happen to me, to all of us, if we decide to go against Athena’s orders. The Shadow Realm will be our torment. I’ve been given an order; my disobedience comes with consequences.”
“Right, but Valerius cannot get his hands on this human.”
Evander was shaking his head. “This isn’t a good idea, Max. She gets annoyed with me. Before they attacked us, she was dressing me down. Camulos is a better choice.”
“You have the best rapport with her,” Maximus said matter-of-factly.
“I’m not so sure about that.” Evander glanced over towards Ellie’s bed as he spoke.
“She responds better to you, Evander.” Maximus lowered his chin.
“Evander.”
Her voice sounded brittle, like ice cracking as he reached for her. Her hand was cold and clammy, her pulse weak but steady.
“You stay with her. She’ll need someone to watch over her and change her bandages. It should be you.” Max’s tone was uncharacteristically soft.
He nodded, unwilling to leave her side and reluctant to fight Maximus on his ridiculous idea that he should be the one left alone with her.
Maximus leaned in close as Camulos opened the door. “Once she is safely asleep, you can look for Pandora’s book.”
“Now?” he protested. “Haven’t you already looked? She’s ill.”
“We still have our orders from the goddess. If we find the grimoire, it might persuade the council and Athena to rule favorably over you. That might be how we save you from the Shadow Realm.” Maximus leveled his gaze. “Find it,” he ordered. They both left, leaving bandages with him.
The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest told him she was breathing. He hated looking through her things, acting like a common thief, but Maximus was right. If he located the grimoire, he might be able to argue his way out of the Shadow Realm for not killing Ellie. Begrudgingly, Evander shuffled around the cabin, picking up little combs and perfume bottles on her dressing table. They were so small and dainty in his large palm. He marveled at how delicate and feminine she was as he snooped.
Well, maybe not snoop. Call it gathering information .
He picked up the dresses on the chair and hung them in her closet. Sticking his hand through the clothes, he felt around for the in-room safe. Summoning his magic, he unlocked the metal door with a click. It held nothing but travel insurance, brochures, her passport, and several papers. Replacing the items and locking it again, he moved the dresses aside and pressed his hand to the back of the wardrobe. Nothing. He sighed and continued the rustling of her belongings. Ellie lay on the bed, completely helpless and unaware of what they were truly after. It made him sick to think about. He tried not to dwell on that and continued around the room. After several more minutes, he came up empty. Nothing here indicated she was anything more than a fragile human. Fragile with an arousing scent of citrus and wood smoke.
And her scent was everywhere.
The last place he hadn’t looked was her nightstand, so he sat on the side of her bed and slowly opened the drawer. His eyes widened as the contents came into view. Two books, a notebook, and some pens all lined up neatly. Beside the seemingly innocuous items was a rather large, purple satisfier with the words The Rabbit written on the side. Instantly, his cheeks heated. A grown man, as old as he was, rummaging through her personal things, blushing like a lad finding his first pornographic magazine. Slamming the drawer shut, he decided to feign ignorance at the very existence of the toy. He eyed the sleeping Ellie as heat burned through him. Pacing the room for several more minutes, he glanced at the drawer, trying not to think of Ellie using The Rabbit .
Deciding that a chair was a better place to watch over her than hopping into her tiny bed, he pulled the vanity chair up alongside. After several minutes, he abandoned the thing and sat directly on the floor. As tall as he was, his head and shoulders rose just over the edge. Should she need him, he was near. He positioned his hand on the covers, intent on settling himself deep into the pillow he had shoved along his back, when she slipped her fingers into his palm. He stared at the two appendages resting together as a tingle ran through his hand.
The sound of soft, steady breath, the comfort of her hand, and the constant low hum of the ship’s engines propelling them forward lulled Evander to sleep within a few minutes.
Again, his dreams were fitful. Daemons rushed Ellie, stalking her, waiting to pounce. She wore a white chiton with gold trim and metal clasps at her shoulders, behind her immense wings set ablaze as ash fell to the ground around them. The daemons flew at her, attacking from all sides. He was helpless to protect her, watching, tied to stakes, pounded into the floor. Evander tried to move, to strain against the ropes that cut into his wrists. Ellie fought them off with magic—powerful magic, as powerful as the gods. Bolts of lightning and fire flew from her palms, gliding across the floor. She focused her attention on someone in the distance while blasting another daemon to dust. That’s when he heard it—a giggle from somewhere far away. Stepping into a glowing light was a wispy figure. Ann. The woman he had cared for, the one who had died all those years ago.
Ann.
She floated above him, whisper-thin and soft, a ghost of an image. A daemon wing shot out and sliced into Ellie’s shoulder. Evander watched as a single drop of her shimmering dark-red blood fell to the stone floor. Ellie turned and, in one motion, pulled the bowstring to her chin, releasing an arrow. Ann covered her mouth and giggled once more, turning towards the dark. He watched as the arrow sailed towards Aerelia, the Dark Oracle. It struck her in the eye, the one that saw into the future. The room around them shook as if all of Tartarus was screaming. Rubble fell as daemons took flight. Ellie stood in the heart of the room, a shadow beside her.
“Ichor!” screamed Aerelia. “The Serathena has set us free!”