22. In Which a Little Magic Makes More Questions
Chapter 22
In Which a Little Magic Makes More Questions
E llie awoke with a start. Her head was fuzzy, not the type of vagueness that comes from a night of drinking, but the kind she hadn’t felt in years, not since she learned to hide her powers. The last thing she recalled was arguing with Evander with a club in her hand. Had she been golfing? That didn’t seem right; she hated golf. The last time she felt this disjointed, she had awoken in the small room Penn had made for her protection. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, her throat raw from screaming, her fingernails broken and bloody. She couldn’t tell how long he had confined her for, but when he finally let her out, he berated her for damaging the carpet and blowing all the light bulbs in the house. After he confined her to his manmade prison, she tried her best to control her destructive power. She wasn’t always successful.
Carefully, she turned on her bedside lamp. Rising from the mattress, she let out a little shriek. Evander lay sprawled on the floor, face down. One arm folded awkwardly under his head, a pillow half-over his face, and one leg jutted at a strange angle.
“Oh, no!” she whispered, reaching down. Finding the artery in his neck, she breathed a sigh of relief when it pulsed instantly, strong and very much alive.
“Are you checking my pulse?” Evander’s voice was raspy from sleep, his eyes still closed.
He groaned and moved the pillow under his head. His arm made a metal clunk as it hit the floor. One eye partially open, he glanced at her.
“I thought you were dead,” she confessed, afraid for that split second he had been on the receiving end of her magic.
Evander snorted through his nose and lazily scratched at his bare chest. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m very much alive. At least, I think. This floor is hardly comfortable.”
“What time is it?” she asked.
Evander snorted again. “How should I know?”
“Oh, right.”
Finding Evander on the floor left her quite disconcerted. And extremely concerned she had no knowledge of how he got there. Or how she got here, for that matter. As she grabbed her phone, she rubbed one of her eyes.
“It’s 1:18 a.m. Is that right? It’s one in the morning?” She rubbed her eye again. “That can’t be right.”
Evander sat up as she looked up from her phone. His head and part of his shoulders came above her bed frame. It was oddly intimate to be at eye level with him.
“It must be. You’ve been out of it for hours. I had to change your bandage twice.”
“What bandage?”
Frantically, she unwrapped the comforter. A tingle coursed through her at the thought of Evander placing her in bed and covering her up. The meatiest part of her thigh had been wrapped in white gauze.
“Oh, God! Did I do that?” She was right. She had lost control, and her power had caused her to hurt herself. Or others. How many other people witnessed her losing control? Had she hurt them? Questions swirled in her mind but as she glanced at Evander, he wore an odd expression .
“What?”
“You don’t remember?”
She shook her head. “No. Did I”—glancing around the room, she whispered—“hurt anyone?”
His pinched eyebrows sharpened his features. “No,” he said slowly, “something hurt you.”
Ellie frowned and pursed her lips together. “What?”
“What do you recall?”
He wasn’t acting afraid of her, but she was sure he had seen her magic.
“I remember golfing?”
He nodded. “Yes, miniature golf.”
That made much more sense than actual golf . “And then I was angry. I remember being annoyed with you, really annoyed.” She thought for a second. “Oh, that guy, you pushed that guy.” He was nodding along with her.
“Anything else?”
“No. Nothing.”
Momentarily, he looked like he was contemplating telling her something. Deciding, he gave a curt nod.
“You don’t remember fighting creatures?”
“Creatures?”
“Little, all-black, winged creatures. You shot two with arrows?”
She was shaking her head, nervously chewing on the inside of her cheek. He had to be joking. Ellie was sure of it. “Be serious, Evander.”
“I am.”
Searching her limited memory, she tried to think back. To the deck, the mini golf, the argument. She had stormed off into a room with Athena. No, a statue of Athena . The bow and arrow were on the wall as decoration. Her head snapped up as Evander nodded.
“The creatures,” she said in a harsh whisper as the flood of memories returned. “They had wings and were talking funny. They were so strong. I shot one with an arrow and then the other, and then—” She gasped again. “You!” She searched around for his swords. Those magical swords. Power had surged through him, the same power coursed through her. She had held tight to her control, knowing the damage she could do if she didn’t keep her cursed magic in check. “Your swords. Where are your swords?”
He had the decency to look sheepish. “I can’t answer that.”
Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs off the side, narrowly missing him. His hand shot out, stopping her.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, swatting.
“You should let me help you. You’re injured.”
Evander trailed off as she stood perfectly fine. Her thigh stung as the skin stretched, but it wasn’t unbearable. Raising to his knees, his head came up past her waist. His large hand firmly gripped her leg, unwinding the bandage. With each pass around her thigh, each soft brush of his knuckles against her skin, breathing became more challenging. His thumb skimmed her tender inner thigh as he passed the ribbon of gauze between her legs, and her heart rate became erratic. When the bandage was off, he tenderly stroked two fingers over the area. Other than being a little irritated, the marks were healing fine, raised, and pink. He ran his hand over the wound once more. This time, the pad of his thumb traced the longest scratch from thigh to her knee. A shiver ran through her at the contact. Ellie cleared her throat. His gaze shifted to meet hers, his expression was unreadable. His eyes darted from her face to her belly button to her center, just inches from his face. He swallowed. His prosthetic hand was rhythmically caressing the back of her knee. Cool, hard metal against her soft flesh. Then he rocked back on his heels and rose to stand, the trance broken, leaving Ellie flushed.
“See?” Her voice was husky. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. May I go to the restroom now?” She shoved past him to a set of drawers built into the wall.
“Here, let me help you,” he insisted, as she placed her palm on his forearm. The lights and mechanical pieces of his prosthetic whirled under her fingertips.
“It’s okay. I can manage.”
She grabbed fresh clothes and undergarments and headed to the bathroom. She had barely gotten dressed when she heard him on the phone from the other side of the door. Assuming he was talking to Camulos or Maximus, she tiptoed to the door and pressed her ear to it.
“I don’t know.” His deep voice was muffled. “Their systems aren’t designed to handle that much toxin. I thought I’d be tending to the wound for days.”
Silence, as whoever was on the other end was responding.
Ellie wondered as she changed into pajamas what he meant by “ their. ” Was he talking about the creatures? Or her? She pulled her wild hair back into a messy bun, the best she would get after almost a day of sleep. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she examined her sallow face. It looked tired and worn. Sleep and shower were for the morning, right now, she wanted to forget about the weirdest twenty-four hours. Ellie reentered her cabin where Evander had flopped onto the chair in the corner, his long legs out in front of him, his hands clasped over his stomach. When his eyes met hers, they flashed.
“Problem?” She frowned.
“You’re in pajamas?” His voice was raspy, deeper. The way he said pajamas made something in her come alive.
“Of course, it’s the dead of night.”
“Right,” he mumbled.
Smoothing her hand over the tank top and cotton shorts, she frowned again and fingered the lace edging that grazed the tops of her thighs.
“Maximus was asking how you were.” He sat up taller in the chair.
“Fine, thank you.” She threw her clothes in the hamper and glanced at him. “Well, thank you for helping me, but now, if you’ll excuse me . . .” She walked to the door and grabbed the handle.
“I’m not leaving.” His response was curt.
“Yes, you most certainly are.”
“You were attacked. By creatures that don’t use doors to enter rooms. Ellie, you may not like it, but you need someone to look after you.”
“And you think you are the person for that job?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I think I’m the one who slept on the world’s worst floor while you recovered from a wound that would have taken anyone else days. That I redressed.” He lowered his chin, challenging her.
“And that makes you qualified?” she shot back, not to be persuaded.
“That makes me a better candidate, yes.”
“I can look after myself. If memory serves me, I shot two of those creatures, one of which had you pinned. I don’t need, nor did I ask for you to be my bodyguard.”
“True. But I am the man with two swords that are apparently magic.” He grinned as if he had won.
She scowled and huffed. “So, are you going to explain what those creatures were, or are we back to pretending they don’t exist?”
“Oh, they exist.”
“And your swords? You’re sticking with magic and not showing me where you keep them?” She intertwined her arms across her middle.
A range of emotions skirted across his features as he stared. Moving to the makeshift desk, he sat on the edge and crossed his legs at the ankle. Holding the receiver on his shoulder, he picked up the twenty-four-hour service menu. This man thought he was just going to, what? Stay here in her room now? She glared at him.
“Dinner?”
“Excuse me?”
“Dinner?” he said again, holding the receiver. “You look hungry. I know I’m hungry. Do you want dinner?” Evander made a motion of someone eating out of a bowl, and Ellie growled. Snatching the menu out of his hand, she sat beside him on the ledge, their shoulders touching. He began ordering and looked at her with eyebrows raised, questioning.
“The vegetarian tikka masala,” she said, handing the menu back.
Once he was done, he gave her a pointed look.
“Are we gonna talk about your swords?” she asked.
“Are you going to explain how you healed from daemon scratches that were deep and clearly infected?”
More glaring and, for good measure, she huffed.
“Or how your blood sparkles in the light?”
Ellie froze. She didn’t have time to hide the shock from her face. He had seen her blood. Her weird, shimmery, glitter-like blood. Her parents struck deals with doctors in their small town to keep quiet, but she’d never forgotten the first time she had a blood draw in the city. The look on the phlebotomist’s face was the same look Evander was giving her now.
If he can deny his swords, I can deny my blood .
Ellie pointed her chin at him.
“Don’t you want to go change before you bar me from leaving?” Changing the subject, she hoped he’d take the bait. He did. Glancing down at his swim trunks and bare feet, he shifted to his flip-flops abandoned in the corner. He held up his hands.
“Okay, you win,” he said. “I need to change and get a couple of things. Can I trust you to stay in this room while I gather the necessary things?”
“I dunno. Am I now your prisoner, oh self-appointed bodyguard?”
He shook his head. “No, but you are being watched by someone who wants to hurt you.” His tone sent a chill down her spine. Ellie shivered as if the temperature dropped in the room.
“Is that what those things were trying to do? Kill me? Why me?”
His hand reached to cup her cheek and she flinched. Softening his gaze, he swept his thumb softly over the rise. Those beautiful blue-green eyes held hers briefly before something changed in them. They flicked down to her lips and then back. The black of his pupils swallowed the stormy color. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath.
“I don’t know.” he whispered low.
He took a step, giving them both distance. The warmth of his hand on her cheek lingered, her lips tingling as if he had brushed them with his own.
“I don’t have answers for you, not any that will make sense, anyway. You will stay within the room, then?”
Ellie nodded yes, not trusting her voice to respond.
He opened the door swiftly and turned to look at her. “Do not open this door for anyone. Do you understand? When I come back, I’ll knock three times.”
“It’s that serious?”
“It would hate to see any harm come to you, Ellie.”
He left, shutting the door behind him with a resounding click.
Valerius longed for the throne he had made ages ago. His temple was modest compared to the gods, but he had access to a million little creatures that did his bidding. He was pondering this when he heard a scuffle from outside, followed by a shout from his guards. The oversized wooden door to his private lounge burst open, and one daemon came running into the room, guards trailing behind her.
“Boss! Boss!” she hissed. “Something I to tell you, Boss.”
“Yes, what is it?” Valerius said lazily from his chair. He swatted his hand at the guards dismissively.
“The Serathena, Boss. We found hers. Hers on a ship boat. Lots of people have music and lights and so much human people food . . .”
“What about the Serathena?” Valerius interrupted. He sat up at the mention of her name. Sometimes, he felt more like an impatient father of misfits than the leader of a great army.
“Oh, she dieded,” the female daemon said.
He was on his feet, yanking her into the air by her wings. She squirmed to get free, kicking her legs. “What?” Valerius bellowed. “You weren’t supposed to kill her, you imbecile. You were supposed to bring her to me.”
“They tried, Boss,” she said, still squirming. “Bozis, Agath, and Vulvich tried, but he killed two, and then we sent another ‘cause Vulvich help another. And she killed them. Both. With Athena goddess bow.”
He dropped her to the ground, and the daemon scrambled to her feet.
“She had Athena’s bow?” The last he knew, Athena wanted her dead.
She shook her head. “From the wall, Boss. Of boat ship.”
“Oh,” he nodded in understanding. “And how is she now dead?”
“He scratched her. Daemon scratch venomous to humans. So dead.” She danced around, wringing her hands, hopping from foot to foot.
He had often heard the daemons bragging about killing humans. They were unpredictable when in the human realm. But daemon scratches weren’t lethal despite their bragging. They hurt like hell, sure, but it was their fangs that killed the humans, not their claws. He stared down at his nervous little visitor.
“Who was he?”
“Boss, I told you, Bozis and Agath.”
“No,” Valerius shot back. “Who was the man with her? You said there was someone with her.”
“Oh, he not a man, Boss. No. He a pet warrior to Athena, methinks,” she replied happily in a singsong voice.
“Which one?” he said annunciating each word.
“Oh, the one call Evander. Boss, that a funny name? Evander?” She sounded out each syllable, rolling them around on her tongue. “He killed Bozis and Agath.”
“Did you stay around to watch the Serathena die?”
Her eyes darted around the room. “No.”
Nodding, he yelled for Squid. His right-hand daemon scurried into the throne room a few seconds later, ducking his head in a slight bow. He was taller than the others by a few inches. He had sharp talons at the ends of his wings that Valerius had sharpened to protect his prized pupil from the humans. His leathery bat wings were dark black, but the right one had a tear. Not enough to ground him permanently, but enough to make Valerius angry whenever he saw it. A message from his sadistic mate.
“Squid, my pet. I want you to do Boss a favor.” He sometimes wished he had a beard because he’d be stroking it while he told his evil plot to his henchman. Instead, he shot him a piercing gaze. Squid was all too eager to please. “I need you to locate the Serathena and verify she is still alive. Can you do that for Boss?”
Squid nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Squid, do it for Boss. I go find Serathena and bring her back to Boss, just like he asked.”
“No, no, Squid. I want you to find the Serathena and confirm she is alive. Don’t bring her back yet. Boss has a plan for her.”
“Yes. Find Serathena, and then what? If I no bring her back, how do know Squid found her?” He cocked his head to the side like a bird. His black eyes shone in the candlelight.
“You will come back here and tell Boss, Squid. Find Serathena and come back to Boss to tell me.”
Squid nodded in understanding and took off, flying towards the human realm at a frightening speed.
Let the warriors try to protect her, he knew the truth, knew what she was to Olympus and Tartarus. The fact Athena wanted her dead proved she knew more than she let on. Ellie would be the undoing of Olympus, that was certain, but what Athena failed to realize was that Ellie was worth more alive than dead. If he controlled the Serathena, then Aerelia and the Titans stayed safely stuck in Tartarus while he got his revenge on the gods who dismissed him so long ago. He only needed the key to their cages. The one that he’d helped Pandora create so many years ago.