Pride of the Lion: Hades' Carnival, Book 3 (23 page)

“Is this Kellsie Morris?” Araminta gripped her phone, very aware of Leander hovering beside her, his massive frame tense with anticipation.

The voice turned wary. “Who wants to know?”

She licked her dry lips. “This is Araminta Davidson, and I think you might be able to help me with a rather large problem.”

“Ohmigod, you freed one of them. Which one?”

“Leander. The lion,” she added in case Kellsie didn’t know the warrior’s names.

She heard yelling in the background as the other woman called for Marko. “Marko is coming. How much time do you have left?”

Araminta glanced at the clock on the mantle. “Five hours.”

“Too long.”

She didn’t need Kellsie to tell her that. There was something in the air, a thickening, a growing menace that made her want to run and hide in the closet like a frightened child. Except there was no hiding, not from Hades.

“Marko is here and he wants to talk to Leander.”

She held out the phone to Leander. “Marko wants to talk with you.”

Leander took a deep breath and shook his head. “Can you make it so we can both hear whatever he has to say?”

She nodded, pressed the necessary button to activate the speaker and placed the phone on the table in front to them. Then she nodded at Leander.

“Marko. Is it truly you?”

“My friend.” The voice was deep, more a bass rumble. Leander was visibly overcome with emotion. He tilted his head back and swallowed hard.

“I never believed I would ever hear your voice again.” Leander leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “How did you defeat Hades and break the curse?”

Araminta leaned forward too, not wanting to miss a single word. Before Marko could reply, the phone suddenly went dead. The silence was deafening. “What is wrong?” Leander demanded.

She picked up her phone and hit redial. Nothing. “I don’t know. This shouldn’t be happening.”

“Hades.” Leander sprang to his feet and held up his right hand. A gigantic sword appeared, the sharp metal blade gleaming as he circled the room.

Araminta checked her computer screen only to find it blank. “Computer is down too.”

“The time of waiting is at an end and the time to fight is here.” Leander sounded as though he was relishing the coming battle. She’d much rather run until the clock ran out and they were safe. She was a thirty-year-old romance writer, not some crazy female action hero. The height of excitement in her life had been attending the writer’s conference. And look where that had gotten her.

If she lived through the rest of the day she might never leave the house again.

Buck up, she scolded herself. She’d lived in obscurity her entire life, never making waves, never leaving a mark on the world. Here was her chance to be a part of something bigger than herself. The fate of the world was at stake. She’d written the darn books so she knew the truth of the matter. If Hades managed to get the support of even one more warrior, he’d probably have the power to stage a takeover of the world before the other members of his pantheon even knew what was happening.

Hades would then be the most powerful of all the Greek gods and he would be unstoppable. Only the warriors of the Lady were here on Earth and had been for so long that the other gods and goddesses accepted their presence in this realm. Their being freed hadn’t raised a blip on their radar.

But why hadn’t they noticed when two of the warriors had been destroyed? Definitely something to ponder if she survived the next few hours.

Hades was not happy. And when he wasn’t happy everyone around him was miserable. Mordecai was no exception. He stood with his hands loose at his sides, ready to protect himself if the god suddenly decided he was expendable. Mordecai hadn’t survived this long only to lose his soul and his life because Hades was in a foul mood.

“How could this happen?” Hades was dressed all in black, as usual, the Armani suit tailored to perfection, the linen shirt smooth and crisp, the silk tie understated. Personally, Mordecai didn’t know how the guy could be comfortable wearing the tight garb. He much preferred his khakis, boots and a T-shirt, but to each his own.

Mordecai shrugged. “Luna was too impetuous. She assumed because Leander acted interested that he was. The guy’s a lion. He plays with his prey before he kills it. He’s also extremely protective of those he considers his.”

Hades glared at him and paced from one end of the room to the other. “I need another warrior. You’re not enough.” He sneered, but Mordecai didn’t rise to the bait. His ego was much too healthy to be bothered by such a small slight.

“You need at least one more warrior,” he agreed. “Two would be better.”

Hades glared at the mirror into other realms and watched as Leander circled the tiny living room of Araminta’s home. What remained of Luna had appeared in Hades’ antechamber not long ago, and since then Hades had been on the warpath. He’d killed the poor demon who’d brought the remains to his attention. Mordecai assumed he didn’t adhere to the adage of not killing the messenger.

“And they actually made contact with one of the other warriors.” Hades pointed at the mirror as if it would tell another tale simply because he willed it. The mirror showed what was, not what the viewer wished to see.

Mordecai leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, confident that Hades wouldn’t try to kill him yet. He still needed Mordecai alive, plus he’d gotten the worst of his anger out when he’d slaughtered the poor unfortunate messenger.

“Modern technology is a bitch. It’s not like the old days when we’d have to send up a smoke signal or wait for days or months for a messenger to arrive. Just be glad that the Lady hasn’t found them. She could transport them to anywhere on the Earth with just a thought.” It might not be a wise thing to do, but Mordecai wanted to see how Hades would react when his failure was tossed in his face.

The god glared at him and smoke literally rose from his body, seeping out from beneath the cuffs and collar of the suit jacket. “The Lady is weak and lost somewhere in a godforsaken forest. No one remembers her name anymore, let alone worships her. She will not gain any power, therefore she is of no consequence.”

Mordecai inclined his head. “As you say.” Better to placate the god, for now. “Is it time to take the fight to Leander? He is the most fierce of all of us, even more so than Roric.” He’d always wondered why the lion hadn’t taken leadership of their group from the tiger. He was more than capable. But then some people didn’t want to lead, were content to follow. Mordecai was not one of those people.

Hades strode to the far end of the room and threw himself down onto his throne. The dark wood gleamed in the candlelight that flickered from the enormous iron candelabras ringing the room. The shimmering light caught Hades’ face, illuminating it. The god’s handsome face appeared sinister and sly, more true to his actual nature.

The Lord of the Underworld rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepled his fingers together and contemplated his options. “If we are to fight in the middle of a town, I will have to create a barrier of sorts. It wouldn’t do for Zeus or Poseidon to hear about what was happening. They have spies everywhere.”

Hades glared at Mordecai, who held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not one of them. You’re the one who found me,” he reminded the god.

“So I did.” He tapped one finger against his chin. “If I use energy on a force field, I will have to send fewer demons to fight.” He pointed at Mordecai. “You will go with me.”

Mordecai straightened away from the wall and smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would. You’re a bloodthirsty creature.” Hades stood and prowled across the floor, coming to a stop in front of Mordecai. “Just remember your place.”

“That, my lord, is something I never forget.” Mordecai let one corner of his mouth tilt upward, giving Hades a sly smile.

“Good.” Hades snapped his fingers and four enormous demons entered the room. Each was clad in leathery brown garments made from the flesh of lesser demons, and Mordecai knew it was thicker than steel armor. Each carried a sword in one hand that they angled across their chests before bowing to Hades.

They were an ugly lot with their glowing red eyes, their sharp teeth and dark skin. They spoke little but growled a lot, displaying their blackened gums. Their misshapen skulls and the short horns protruding from either side of their foreheads made them appear even more grotesque. They lived to fight and would follow Hades’ commands and unthinkingly give their lives for the god.

“Good choice.” These creatures spit acid and were quick on their feet. They would give Leander quite a challenge. Mordecai was looking forward to watching the battle.

Hades glared at him but refrained from answering. Mordecai enjoyed baiting the god even though it was a very dangerous pastime. But there was so little to give him joy in this realm that he took it where he could.

The god motioned to him and Mordecai strolled over to stand beside him. Hades swept his arm in a circular motion and thick black smoke appeared. It circled, getting faster and faster with each rotation. The circle grew larger until it encompassed half the room. The scent of burning flesh and brimstone grew more pungent. Mordecai had grown used to the smell, but it always made him feel like washing himself clean. He was used to fresh mountain air and the crisp scent of fir trees, or at least, he had been. This was his life now.

He shoved aside all thoughts of the past and stepped into the swirling mass beside Hades. All his senses disappeared when he stepped into the void. It was like being struck blind, deaf and speechless. There was no sound, nothing to see or hear or touch. But he grimly put one foot in front of the other, heading toward the light in the distance.

Hades was in front of him with the demons leading the way. No way would Hades enter the earthly realm first. No, the god always sent others ahead, those who were expendable. Mordecai was expected to protect his flank. He conjured his sword and held it at the ready. This was going to be one hell of a fight.

He laughed at his own pun—a hell of a fight, indeed—and stepped out of the tunnel and into the center of a middle-class living room in North Dakota. He raised his sword and saluted his former friend.

The Lady of the Beasts sat naked on the earth, soaking up the energy from the ground and the sun shining down on her. The sun would be gone soon, lost behind the mountains. But that didn’t matter. She could recharge her lost energy with the rays of the moon just as well.

Hades and his ilk never truly understood her or her connection to this world. She was of the earth and skies, drawing power from every grain of sand, every ray of light, every heartbeat of the animals who inhabited this planet.

Like all gods and goddesses, she also gained power when people worshiped her. Not that she’d ever demanded such a thing, not like the Greeks had. She’d always been content to live among the animals in the forests or mountains, but people had started saying prayers to her after a hunt or a harvest, and it had strengthened her, lending energy to the blazing light within her. It had also pleased her that humans hadn’t killed indiscriminately, had understood the sacrifice the animal made in giving its life so that they could live.

Then the gods and goddesses of Olympus had marked the world with their presence, bringing their greed and petulance with them, destroying the delicate balance of the world. They thought her weak. What they did not understand was that she was content to simply wait them out. She’d lived much longer than any of them, had seen creation itself and knew that the time of the other gods and goddesses would come and go and she would remain, as always, while they faded into the annals of history and time.

There’d been no need for them to attack her, to attack her warriors. Herself, she could forgive them for, but not her warriors. They were her creation, her children. And, like any mother, she was fiercely protective. It pained her that some of them had been lost to her, but she could not think about that now. One of her warriors was in immediate danger.

Leander. Her pale-pink lips curved upward in a gentle smile—the king of the beasts, so fierce and so protective. He would need her help soon, and she wanted to be ready to give what she could.

As the sun sank behind the mountain and the moon appeared in the sky, she began to chant. The musical notes fell easily from her lips, more sound than words, and all around her the world went still, the animals straining to hear her.

She sang for all the years she’d been kept away from what she loved best, locked in a dead world of rock and decay. A misty rain fell on her, the earth’s tears washing her clean. She sang for joy, for being reunited with all she loved, and the sky cleared, the clouds floating away.

A wolf howled nearby and a bear grunted just beyond the tree line. An owl hooted and a squirrel chattered. Soon the forest was alive with the music of the animals as they joined her in her song of celebration.

John Running Bear’s voice joined the chant from where he waited for her just beyond the clearing. She knew he would wait for her as long as was necessary, ready to help her with whatever she needed. He was truly a remarkable man, with one foot in this realm and another in the land of the gods.