Not to mention, after last night, he needed to reevaluate just how concerned he was about the Olympians’ mercy. But first things first.
He willed himself into the elements and— Shit. Nothing but a soul-deep ache. He’d been successful moments before when he’d made himself scarce. Don’t tell me that’s seriously all I got. He tried again. Success! The South Wind surrounded him. He drew it in, trying to—
Human. Again. He couldn’t hold his form. “Son of a—”
“Need a ride, sailor?”
Chrys turned. Ella. His brother Zeph’s mate. “Well, look at you materializing in the human realm,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained to her as it did to his own ears.
She smiled, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “I know, right? I’m starting to get the hang of this whole ‘goddess’ gig.”
He chuckled. Ella had lost her whole human family, died a horrible human death, and been thrust into her goddesshood without any say in the matter, yet she was always good-natured. “Apparently so, since you’re here. How’d you find me?”
“When he finally got a read on you, Livos let me know you were in trouble.” Her gaze scanned over his bandaged forearm and the grisly stab wound and burned flesh on his shoulder.
Chrys frowned. He’d specifically ordered his subordinates to shield his whereabouts and not interfere in his business with Eurus, no matter what happened. And yet the god of the Southwest Wind had opened his yap.
“Oh, drop the grumpy face. I didn’t really give him a choice in the matter.”
“Uh, not to be rude, there, Sis, but you don’t yet have the power to be pushing around any of the Anemoi. Even the lesser Anemoi.” He winked. “Except maybe my brother, who is about as whipped as they come.”
“No offense taken. But, if you think Livos wants to chance earning Zeph’s ire, you’re wrong. He works for Zephyros, too. Let’s just say I persuaded him to see the wisdom in cooperating with me rather than having to get my husband involved. Besides, you and Eurus thrashed my Bay last night, so you sorta made it my business.”
Ella had been an avid sailor in her human life, so Mars, the father of her divine bloodline, had given her the job of guardian of the Chesapeake Bay she knew so well. Chrys tugged a hand through his hair. She was going to be a full-out force of nature when she came into her powers completely. Gods help them all, then. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“Happily.” She tucked her straight brown hair behind her ears. “So, how ‘bout that ride?”
“Where are we, anyway?”
“Near a little town called Princess Anne. Eastern Shore of Maryland.”
“I was trying to take the storm out over the Atlantic.”
Ella nodded, her expression suddenly serious. “Come on. We should go. You need to do anything else here?”
Chrys wasn’t sure what accounted for the change in her demeanor, but he didn’t want to push. “No. I’ll send Livos back later to do some damage control. But, about the ride—I’m worried this is going to drain you.”
“Never know if we don’t try. Besides, I’m only hauling your butt as far as my place. Livos is waiting there to take you to yours.”
“What about Z?”
“He went to see Boreas at Owen’s.”
“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you?”
She smiled and wrapped her arm around his. “No. I’m bluffing my way through most of it.”
Chrys bristled at the touch, but there was no avoiding it. You didn’t mind the other woman’s touch. The thought did nothing for his frame of mind. “Well, you’re doing a damn fine job,” he managed.
She gave him a squeeze. “Here goes nothing.”
Throwing what little power he still possessed into the effort, Chrys felt himself drawn into the elements. Hell if she wasn’t doing it.
They rose up through the air. His lack of corporeality was the greatest relief. In this state, he remained aware of the utter exhaustion, but not the agony of his injuries. Ella’s natural aura added a calmness to his elemental state, further providing solace. Laney’s farm spread out beneath them then disappeared behind the clouds. They soared on toward the Realm of the Gods, Ella quiet and determined in her focus.
Don’t drop me, he teased in the thoughts he knew she should be able to hear.
Don’t tempt me, came a reply full of amusement.
Soon, they reached the divine realm. The compound of the Supreme God of the West Wind appeared before them. She guided them toward an outdoor courtyard and Chrys pulled himself free of her power. Simply being home again gave him just enough energy to finish the job. He materialized into his human form and groaned as he touched down.
“I’ll get Livos,” she said.
He braced his hands on his knees. “It’s okay. He’ll know I’m here,” he said, forcing deep breaths to chase away the nausea being back in his body caused. “Thank you, Ella. Are you all right? Not too drained?”
“I’m fine.” She stepped toward him. Chrys straightened, but almost wished he hadn’t. She reached out and cupped his jaw. “I was worried about you. I have been, all summer. I’m the reason you’re—”
“No, you’re not,” he gritted out and resisted his natural urge to flinch away from her touch. “Don’t think that for a minute. This is all on Eurus.” He pulled her hand away from the uncomfortable touch and gave it a squeeze, then he crossed his arms.
She nodded. Something flashed behind her gaze. “He was at the bridge, wasn’t he?”
Shit. Not a conversation he really wanted to have, but if she wasn’t going to shy away from it, why should he? “Aw, Hades. Yeah. How’d you know?”
“I go there sometimes, trying to remember. Sometimes I think I can feel him there.”
“Ella—”
“Zeph won’t tell me, and everything’s so foggy.” She shrugged.
“That’s because it’s not something anyone should have to remember. But you shouldn’t go there alone again. It’s not safe.”
Her gaze dropped to the ground, but she finally nodded.
“My lord?”
Chrysander turned to find Livos, Ordinal Anemoi of the Southwest Wind, on a knee, dark blond head bowed. “Sure, now you’re all full of respect and obedience. Get up.”
Livos’s expression was serious as he returned to his full height. Anger and concern rolled off him in waves Chrys’s body couldn’t withstand in its current beat-to-hell state. “To the Acheron, my lord?”
“No.” Much as the waters of the infernal river would’ve sped his healing, his presence in the Underworld might also draw attention he’d rather not attract. The Lord of the Underworld was brother to more than one of the Olympians, after all.
Livos frowned and inhaled as if to argue.
Chrys cut off the debate with a single glance. “Home.” The heat of Aithiopia, the southernmost geography of the divine realm where he resided, would sufficiently restore him. He turned to Ella. “Thanks for the taxi service.”
She gave a small smile. “You’re welcome. But thanks aren’t necessary. I would do anything for you, for all of you.”
He nodded. Livos came alongside him, but was careful not to touch.
“Chrys?” Ella’s voice was soft, hesitant.
“Yeah?”
“Please be careful.” She hugged herself. “He’s not worth it.”
The words hit home, filling him with sadness for this god that no one valued, nor ever had. And even if he wasn’t really worth it, how did anyone get okay with making that admission, with letting go once and for all?
He met Ella’s concerned gaze and searched for a response that wouldn’t offend her. Given what Eurus did to her, he could never deny her the right to hate him. He couldn’t deny that a part of him did, too. Finally, he managed a small, tired shrug, and said, “He’s still my brother.”
Chapter Five
Boreas, the Supreme God of the North Wind and Winter, couldn’t escape the deep sense of for
eboding that had weighed so heavily on his shoulders all summer. From the moment he’d found his brother Zephyros cradling Ella’s human corpse last March, he’d known—no matter how he turned the problem of the feud between the Anemoi brothers over in his mind, not all of them came out alive. And that was before the Olympians had handed down Eurus’s death sentence.
This whole situation would only get worse before it got better. That was half the reason he’d been spending so much time these past months at his son and daughter-in-law’s home in the human realm—over his dead body would he let the fighting breach the happiness they’d recently found together.
As if reading his thoughts, Zephyros appeared in the center of Owen and Megan’s living room wearing human street clothes.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Boreas said.
Anger and restlessness poured off his brethren from the West and ricocheted around the comfortable, welcoming space, filled with family photos and baby toys. “What are we going to do about Chrys and Eurus?” he asked, his vivid blue eyes flaring in agitation.
“Good question.”
It was exactly what he’d been mulling over. Leaning against the molding of a window, Boreas let his gaze wander outside as he pondered his answer. He squinted against the bright September sun. In the yard next door, Owen’s neighbor Tabitha Wilder knelt in the grass. Boreas watched her patiently weed the flower bed in front of her porch. No matter the season, the woman seemed to enjoy spending time out-of-doors. And while he’d rarely noticed her have company, she always appeared content, the hint of a smile on her face, as if she took joy from whatever she put her mind to doing. Not that he was keeping tabs.
He turned back to Zephyros on a sigh. “Because it is his season, Chrysander is the strongest among us right now. He has decided this is his fight, and he will not be dissuaded.” Not that Boreas was happy about it. Not at all. It had been one of the worst summers on record—devastating storms and flooding rains alternated with intense heat and suffocating humidity. It was the kind of weather that had once led humans to fear the Supreme God of the South Wind and the turbulent, crop-destroying powers he possessed.
“He may be the strongest right now, but clearly he hasn’t been able to bring Eurus to heel.”
“No.” Boreas was equally troubled by Chrys’s seeming inability to defeat their malevolent brother.
“Something’s not right, Boreas.”
“I agree,” Owen said, coming down the steps into the living room.
“Teddy asleep?” Boreas asked. He adored his one-year-old grandson, the other reason he spent so much time here.
Owen nodded, dragging a hand through his black hair. “They both are. I’ll be glad when the baby comes. This pregnancy hasn’t been nearly as easy,” he said. “Hey, Zeph.” The gods shook hands.
“Megan is strong. She will be fine.” Boreas hated to see his son’s worry, but he couldn’t have been prouder of the man, the father he’d become. Since he’d earned a reprieve from his duties as a snow god nearly two years before, Owen had proven himself made for fatherhood.
“How much longer will the Olympians wait?” Owen asked. After the near-tragedy with Ella in March, Mars had delivered the message that the Olympic gods wanted Eurus dead. Thankfully, they were willing to let the family handle it. So Aeolus, the storm god father of the Anemoi, had been forced to agree to the death sentence, but it was Chrysander who took up the task.
Zephyros shook his head. “For now, they’re allowing it to remain family business. But Mars has been full of meaningful looks that make it clear their patience won’t last forever. Honestly, I’m surprised they’ve let it go on this long.” He crossed his arms and looked between the other gods. “Now, summer ends in three weeks. Olympians aside, this needs to be over before fall starts and Eurus comes into his season.”
Boreas glanced out the window again. Tabitha was looking toward the house. The sun’s glare probably kept her from really seeing him, but he still stepped back, his heart suddenly in flight from the brief eye contact. Apparently being an ancient god didn’t save you from developing a crush on someone your heart and guilt would never let you have. “Let’s find Chrys and figure out what is going on.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Zephyros said.
“Sometimes, this demigod thing sucks.” Owen’s lips pressed into a line. As a demigod, Owen’s powers were neither as strong nor as lasting as that of the Anemoi. Elemental travel as far as the Realm of the Gods would drain him.
Boreas shook his head. “You have a family to take care of now. Let us handle this.”
His son gave a tight nod. “Talk some sense into Chrys, will ya?”
Zephyros scoffed. “Like talking to a damn brick wall.”
Owen chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t know any other Anemoi like that.”
“I never really liked you,” Zeph said with a mock glare.
“Except when I saved and protected Ella, you mean.”
The corner of his brother’s mouth quirked up. “Yeah, except then.” Smiling, he clapped Owen on the shoulder. “I’ll stay for a longer visit next time. Tell your prettier half that Ella and I say hello.”
They clasped hands and knocked shoulders. “I will. And I’m serious about Chrys. I’ve never seen such volatile summer weather, and it’s not like him to be so out of control. Something’s not right.”
The three of them traded glances, the truth of Owen’s observation pressing down on them equally. They said their good-byes and Boreas and Zephyros dematerialized. His brother’s agitation was apparent even in their elemental form, sending out tiny crackles of electricity and abrupt gusts of wind.
He’s here, Zephyros said as soon as they crossed through the invisible shield of divine energy into the Realm of the Gods. You up for this?
Chrysander’s residence in the south of the divine realm strained Boreas’s tolerance for heat, but he could handle it for short periods at a time. Yes, it must be done.
The further they traveled, the more intense the sun became. Golden light bathed everything as Aithiopia came into view. They zeroed in on Chrysander’s sprawling compound. His unique energy signature revealed he was here, but it felt…off somehow. A mere shadow of itself. Zephyros’s agitation flared.
They materialized in the lush entranceway to the compound, thick green vegetation and brilliant tropical flowers surrounding the area. The temperature pressed in on Boreas, the hot air more difficult for his lungs to draw in and out.
“Chrysander?” Zephyros called as they made their way inside. “Chrys?”
“This way.” Boreas led them down the main hallway toward the center of the compound.
“Why don’t you change? Aren’t they making it worse?”
Boreas frowned.
Zephyros gestured with a hand toward the fur robes Boreas had worn for millennia. He never even gave them a second thought anymore. “I am fine.” And, anyway, they’d always reminded him of his long-dead wife, Ori, so a part of him had continued wearing the ancient garb in remembrance of her. Now, it was as much habit as anything.
A blast of heat greeted them as they entered a long mirrored antechamber outside the ceremonial center of Chrysander’s compound. Boreas barely restrained a groan and Zephyros gave him another pointed look. But Boreas’s attention was on the two gods in traditional tunics standing watch outside the golden doors of the Hall of the South Wind.
Livos and Apheliotes, the Ordinal Anemoi of the Southwest and Southeast winds, dropped to a knee and bowed their heads.
“Rise,” Zephyros said. He nailed Livos, who also worked for him, with an expectant glare as the lesser gods resumed their position in front of the doors. “Let us pass.”
The gods exchanged glances. Livos shook his head. “It is not my wish to disobey, my lord, but he cannot be disturbed.”
“We must speak with him,” Boreas said. “It is urgent.”
“Perhaps on the morrow—”
“Damnit, Livos, I will not debate this. Step
aside.” Zephyros got right in his subordinate’s face.
Boreas frowned. Livos would not put up such resistance unless… Apheliotes dropped his gaze and Boreas gave him a long look. Realization slammed into him, making it even harder to breathe. He braced his palm against Zephyros’s chest to get him to back down. “How bad is it?”
Livos cut his gaze to Boreas. For a moment, the answer was clear in the younger god’s eyes. Good gods.
A storm settled over Zephyros’s countenance and added a thick humidity to the dry heat of the chamber.
Seeing his superior’s temper about to run out, Livos spilled. “It’s bad. He only just managed to fall asleep. That is the reason I resist your demand. He must rest.”
“He’s so bad off he needs to sleep here?” Zephyros asked, pointing to the ceremonial hall. It possessed the highest heat of anywhere in Aithiopia. Livos finally nodded. “Then why the hell didn’t you take him to the Acheron?”
“He refused, my lord.”
“Damn it all to Hades.” Zephyros backed off a step and scrubbed a hand over his face. “What exactly happened?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t said.”
“What are his injuries?” Boreas asked. “Zephyros could be of service.” His was the strongest healing power of them all.
Livos shook his head. “I don’t think so. And anyway”—the god looked between the Supreme Anemoi—“Chrysander expressly said not to involve him.”
Zephyros charged forward. “Damn bull-headed—”
Livos blocked him, and Apheliotes finally engaged, stepping into the scuffle to bar the doors. “My lord, please. It is worse than you think.”
Boreas grasped his brother’s shoulder. “What do you mean, Apheliotes?”
The god hesitated, then his shoulders slumped. “It will be easier if I show you.”
…
“This is so ridiculous,” Laney grumbled.
“Not if it will help you heal,” Seth said as he lifted her down from his truck seat. “I’m going to carry you in.”