Chapter 1 #2
I shake my head. “I have my own money.”
Michelle stares at me in pity. “Think, if you leave now, someone can track your card.”
She was right. I move to grab the card but pull back. “I can’t use your money.”
“Don’t be trapped with a man that doesn’t love you. Run.” Michelle holds the card out to me.
I swallow. “What about Gram’s bills? Elias pays for that.”
“Let your uncle and aunty take care of that.”
I go for the bouquet, and I see the disappointment on my cousin’s face.
“Hold my card until the end of the ceremony,” Michelle says. She reaches forward and stuffs the card in my bra.
I take the flowers and hold them to my chest.
“You can always change your mind,” Michelle says.
ARIC
It looked like it was about to rain. This whole day has drained my very soul.
I take no delight as I walk onto the wharf.
I hate the smell of the sea, but I love how the sea reacts when I am near.
The waves become agitated. It serves as a sign that my uncle would love to kill me, but he can’t because of the curse and, well, the surrounding people.
My walking leads me to a large chained fence. I stand by the gate, patiently waiting for the guard to open it. Normally, I would be here at night, with a paid guard ready to open the gate. I would be here to check my shipment of weapons. But that is not the case today.
“Sir? How can I help?”
“My name is Aric Kallistratos,” I reply.
The guard scratches his bulbous stomach as he takes a clipboard and begins looking through the list.
“There is no Kalli—whatever your name is here.” he looks around and then back at me. “But for a price…”
“Kill him now.”
I choose to ignore the person who has been taunting me for centuries.
Just when I am about to speak to the guard again, another sees me and comes running to the gate.
“John, open the gate. That is Mr. Kallistratos.” The young man stops and waits for him to unlock it.
John’s light blue eyes meet mine. “I am not seeing his name. He may—”
The young man grabs the key from John and opens the gate and allows me to come in.
“This way, Mr. Kallistratos,” the young man says.
I look back at the piece of trash by the gate.
“Are we the God of War or fucking mercy?”
“Which lot is it?” I ask, already angered by what I am about to see.
“Lot 72, sir.”
With my hands stuffed in my pockets, I follow the young officer, walking through towering multicolored shipping containers.
“It’s here,” the young man says.
“Leave.”
“But, sir—”
“Now.”
The young man makes an about-turn and runs away.
I sigh, looking at the black shipping container with a gold shield and spear sigil.
Walking to the front of the crate, I see the doors are slightly ajar.
With a heavy heart, I open the door. My heart drops as I see four girls, ages four to twelve, shackled in the crate.
The tallest of the group gathers the girls behind her back.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch us. You monster!” she screams.
Monster? Right to my face…
“I won’t. What’s your name?” I raise my hands, trying to show that I come in peace.
“None of your business.”
I smile. “Okay. Anyone else want to tell me their names?”
My request is met with silence.
A little hand pushes the taller girl to the side. “Zara needs help.”
“No, stop,” the taller girl cries.
“No, Nisa. Sir, Zara is right over there.” The little Asian girl points behind a box.
I swallow as I walk into the container.
“No, sir, please leave Zara alone.”
I smell the blood before I see Zara’s broken body. She lies on a pallet covered in empty rice bags.
“Can you help her?”
I nod. “I am going to take care of all of you. Who did this?” I ask, more to myself than the kids.
“A tall bald man did. He said Zara was perfect for the taking. Then his friends…”
My stomach roils in disgust.
I take my phone out and dial a number. “Hecate. I need you now at Bakersfield Wharf. Lot 72.” I don’t wait for her response and hang up the phone.
I feel the air shift around me. It smells of jasmine and rose. There is a tic-toking of a pair of heels.
“Hurry,” I shout.
“Which lot is it?” I hear Hecate shouting from outside.
“72. You are already late.”
“So is my fucking raise,” she says. She pauses when she steps into the open container.
Hecate’s teasing smile drops as she sees the girls. She walks slowly at the opening of the container. As is the norm, she is wearing her black-on-black ensemble. Her black silk shirt is tucked into her matte black jeans, paired with a shiny black stiletto.
“Ares, what’s going on?” She pushes her black bobbed hair behind her ears.
“I need your help.”
I left Hecate in charge of the girls. It took me a few seconds to get to my destination. Zeus took away my divinity, but most of my power stayed. Well, it’s more like fifty percent of it.
I stop in front of the oak door to gather myself. I can hear my men laughing. They sound like they are having a good time.
“Yes, after hurting a little girl, they are laughing. Hunt them down.”
I push the door open, and all the laughter stops.
Everyone stands. You can hear a pin drop.
“What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” I hear Cerano, the manager of my shipments. He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hand on the side of his grey pants.
One of the other men gestures to Cerano. He looks around the room, and his eyes meet mine. I see a hint of fear, and then it’s quickly replaced. A false smile spreads across his face. “Mr. Kallistratos. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Pull his spine through his mouth!” I look across the room and can see my reflection pacing in the mirror leaning against the wall.
“The shipment from Lakeshore—did everything run smoothly?” I ask, pressing my hand to my scarred eye. It feels like it’s burning since Ares is straining to come out.
The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling reflects on Cerano’s bald head.
“Yes, sir. It did.”
I close my eyes as I hear the subtle banging on the mirror pane. “Let me out! Why are we talking to ingrates?”
“Please, everyone, have a seat,” I say, looking at the men, wondering who else violated little Zara. Either way, after this is over, they will all be dead. Even if they weren’t involved, they will die. They are guilty by association.
“Would you like a beer, Mr. Kallistratos?”
I stare at the speaker in disgust. He bows his head and looks away. I walk to the window, watching the boats in the harbor float by.
“Let me tell you my favorite Greek story.”
My reflection sighs. He banged his fists on the windowpane. “By the Gods, Aric. Is it fucking story time? KILL THEM.” My muscle spasms as it fights Ares to stay in.
I can sense the unease in the men. I look back, seeing that some of them are reaching for their guns. “These peasants think they can kill me?”
“Have you ever heard of Ares, the God of War? Some think he is ruthless and bloodthirsty. But he was more than that.”
The men shift, forming a semicircle around me.
“Do they think they can take us?”
“Alcippe was his daughter. He loved her. One day, Halirrhothius raped Alcippe. Do you know what Ares did?”
The room remains silent. I sigh. “He killed Halirrhothius. All for the sake of his daughter. See, Ares loved his daughter. He is a protector of women.”
“He deserves to die,” Cerano says.
Both my reflection and I smile.
“And so do you.”
Cerano pulls his gun out and points it at me. All his men do the same.
“Did you hurt that little girl, Zara?” The windowpane behind me trembles.
“Embrace me, Aric.”
Cerano shrugs. “She was crying too much. So I gave her something to cry about.”
Disgust curls in my stomach. I look at my reflection. “You are free, Ares.”
I hear a heavy chuckle. A rush of energy ripples through my body. I stretch my arms over my head and groan out loud.
“Fuck. It’s good to be out.” I whisper.
“Kill them all, Ares.”
I chuckle. “With pleasure.”
“Kill this arrogant fucker,” Cerano says.
Bullets hail against me. They feel like small pinches on my skin. “Aahhh, no…help.”
The shooting stops, and I chuckle. “Help me. No, the bullets…they…they…tickle.”
“What the fuck?” someone screams.
Cerano runs to the door. I flick my two fingers, and the door locks. I chuckle, watching Cerano fight with the door. Stupid mortal.
“What are you?” someone asks.
I raise my hands slowly. The bullets rise from the floor, levitating, and all the men stand in awe.
“A god.” I push my hand forward, sending all the bullets into the men. They all drop to the floor dead.
“The fuck?” Cerano turns and pounds on the door. “Someone, please. Help!”
“I imagine that’s what Zara wanted, someone to help her,” I say.
Cerano’s eyes widen, and he moves from the door and claws at the red brick wall.
I clap my hands together, and they split apart slowly. A gladius-style sword is revealed.
“Come to me.”
Cerano’s body begins to flail about as he tries to fight my command.
“NO, PLEASE, SIR.”
I stand with my arms folded, and my sword hangs in the air. The point is high enough for Cerano’s mouth.
I take pleasure in watching him fight for his life. His scream bounces off the walls of the loft.
The point is near his lips. “Sir, please, I will do anything.”
My arms drop to my side. “Anything?”
He nods, his eyes glassy with fear. “Yes.”
I smile. “Then die.” I form a fist and pull my hand forward, impaling his mouth with the sword.
I stop him at the hilt. In a quick motion, I raise my hands, enjoying the sound of his screams, and the sword tears through his body. I drop my hands. His body collapses over the sword again. The two halves lay on the group of men. I take the sword and wipe it on my black slacks.
“Release me, Ares.”
“No, I like it out here,” I reply. The sword balances between my open palms. Slowly, I close them, and the sword disappears.
“Arti and Cate are coming over for dinner. Apollo may come too.”
I groan, “Artemis and Apollo. No, thank you. Last time they came, it turned into a lecture about morality. You win.”