The Darkest Lie (14 page)

          "They all watch you. They all crave you. You, a little nothing," Rhea had screamed as the blood dripped.

          Cronus, who had also been in their cell, had come at her next. "You might be my wife's child, but you are not my heir and you will never have my crown."

          Alastor had been walking by, had seen Scarlet fall. He'd entered the cell, shoving Rhea aside and scooping Scarlet up. "You have no crown," he'd told the former king. "Nor will you ever again."

          After doctoring her, he'd escorted Scarlet back to her prison. Where Cronus and Rhea waited. By then, Alastor had already cursed the pair. But that hadn't stopped them from trying. Again and again. Actually, months had passed before they'd noticed how much they were aging. Only then had they stopped.

          Sometimes, though, their words still haunted her.

          She laughed bitterly. Those echoes of the past were her own personal little nightmare.

          "I'll let you know when my end of our bargain is met," she said, keeping all emotion from her tone. Which would be, oh, never. "You can go now."

          Of course, her mother remained where she was. "I never knew what you saw in him, why you watched him so covetously. Paris, Lucien and Galen were the pretty ones, though one could hardly call Lucien pretty anymore." Rhea's face scrunched with disgust. "Sabin was the strong, determined one. Strider the fun one. Any of them would have been better than him, the wild one who enjoyed fighting."

          Like that was a crime. Still, Scarlet clenched her jaw to keep her rebuke inside. One, she didn't want her mother to know how much Gideon still meant to her. Not that he meant a whole hell of a lot, she assured herself. Defending him would be like shouting her feelings (small as they were) from a rooftop. Two, she hated that anyone, especially Rhea, was seeing him like this, weakened and hurting, and prolonging the discussion would only encourage the goddess to stay.

          "Now they're all evil and in need of extermination," her mother continued.

          "Funny that you say that, since you're just like them. Strife." Oh, yes. Rhea was possessed by the demon of Strife. She might deny it, but Scarlet knew the truth.

          Rhea stiffened, a predator who'd spotted prey after a too-long fast. "Utter that word again, and I'll entice your lover into my bed. I could do it, you know, and there would be nothing you could do to stop me. I grow prettier every day."

          Do not react. Not to the jealousy suddenly beating through her, or the consuming fury. Again, that would only encourage the goddess. "Do whatever you want. Later. For now, just leave us," she said, knowing the order would grate on Rhea's nerves. "I have a few things to discuss with him and then you can have him." There. That should throw her mother for a loop.

          At first, Rhea didn't obey. She sauntered to the other side of the bed and ran the sharp tip of a nail up Gideon's leg, stomach and then throat. Gideon latched onto her wrist and growled. She laughed that tinkling, dead laugh.

          "Bitch," he croaked, and then hunched over on another moan.

          "You know, I think I'll have him anyway." With a smile that returned every bit of her satisfaction, the queen disappeared, leaving Scarlet alone with her husband.

          Finally Scarlet was able to climb up the bed as she'd wanted. Very carefully, she settled beside him, her pulse hammering at the base of her neck. "Are you a prisoner?" she asked, smoothing the hair from his damp brow.

          He leaned into her touch. "Yes."

          A lie, she knew, because his answer wasn't followed by another moan. "Why are you here?"

          "Not to...find...Zeus."

          Some of the ice around her heart melted; she couldn't stop it. So. He had meant to seek revenge. "Killing him won't make you feel any better," she said softly.

          Their gazes met, a heated tangle. "Not willing to...find out."

          "Cronus won't allow you to do that. So why did he bring you here?"

          Gideon's smile was brief yet still pained. "He doesn't need my help with the Hunters. I didn't ask him to bring me here so I can recover from the truth I spoke. I don't plan to make my way to Tartarus."

          "You spoke the truth? In the forest?" Scarlet flattened her palm over his cheek, thumb tracing the bruise under his eye. "Stupid man. Believe me, if I thought it would ease my pain, I would have found a way to kill Zeus long ago."

          "Scar." He reached up with a shaky hand and cupped her nape. His grip was weak, but she knew what he was doing. Offering comfort. Comfort she had been denied for so long.

          Tears suddenly burned her eyes.

          Dangerous. Too dangerous. She couldn't allow this. Couldn't rely on him like this. Not for anything, even something as simple and wonderful as comfort. What would happen the next time she needed consoling and he wasn't nearby or didn't want to offer it? She would need it, wouldn't know how to cope without it.

          She straightened, and he was too weak to follow her movement. His arm thudded back on the mattress.

          You are hard. Uncaring. "It's treacherous here in Titania," she said coldly. "You jailed many of these Titans, and they'll be all too happy to kick you while you're down."

          "Care. I do."

          He might not, but she foolishly did. "We should return to Earth."

          "Sure, sure."

          Sweet, resisting man. "Gideon--"

          "What if Zeus wasn't the one to take my memories of you and Steel? What if he didn't remove them to keep me from kissing him?"

          That...that made sense, she realized. Zeus had been so powerful, he very well could have removed Gideon's memories to prevent the warrior from killing him for Steel's death. Although the gods and goddesses of memory were usually the only ones capable of such a thing. Zeus could have paid one of them to do it, however.

          With each new thought, rage sparked inside her. The same rage she'd born in her cell, the same rage she'd carried with her since her escape, but stronger. So much stronger. Zeus might have stolen more than her son. Zeus might have stolen her future.

          Why she'd ever been content to let him languish, she didn't know. It was so unlike her. Perhaps someone had screwed with her mind, as well.

          "I'll help you reach him," she said with such deadly calm even she was scared. Rivers of blood would flow. Screams would echo into a thousand midnights.

          She wanted to go now, this second, to finally act, but morning was fast approaching and she would fall into that undisturbed sleep, unable to care for herself.

          In this, she realized she did need Gideon and she would allow herself to use him. Tomorrow... Oh, yes, tomorrow. Vengeance.

          "He will suffer," Gideon said on a ragged breath, mirroring her thoughts. Once again, he moaned in pain, but his next words rang out clearly. "I swear it."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

          ZEUS'S MENTAL doorway was closed and locked with a Do Not Disturb sign draped on the knob.

          For hours, Scarlet waited in front of that doorway, clawing and kicking and pounding, something that usually bathed the target in fatigue. Even gods and goddesses. Yet the entry remained closed.

          He was awake and fighting the lethargy with a strength he shouldn't have possessed. Not with his slave collar. But he would have to sleep eventually. Everyone did, even deposed god kings. And when he did, she would be there.

          However he'd convinced her to allow him to suffer from afar...she might never know. The fucker had killed her son in front of her, and had likely taken Gideon's memories of her. He was the reason her heart had withered and died. He was the reason she had cried herself to sleep so many nights. And he could very well be the reason she'd felt abandoned, alone, forsaken and used.

          None of that mattered to her demon, however. Must feed, Nightmares said.

          She understood, knowing well the consequences of denying her other half what he needed. He wouldn't want to, but he would be forced to feed on her.

          So, though she would have preferred to stake out the Greek for all of eternity, she approached Galen. And, to be honest, hurting him would calm her down. Somewhat.

          Thankfully, his doorway was open. His dream was as turbulent as before, only this time it was all his own. Over and over he relived what she'd shown him. His helplessness. His weakness. His defeat at Gideon's hand.

          Nightmares drank in his terror, luxuriating in the emotion even though the demon hadn't caused it, before scenting someone else's fear and moving on. And then another. When the demon was finally sated, Scarlet steered them toward Gideon's doorway. It, too, was open.

          Her warrior slept. What thoughts drifted through his mind?

          Walk away. A command from her sense of survival.

          Can't. A cry from the most feminine part of her.

          She was trembling as she stepped inside, and what she next saw left her gasping. There she was, wearing a beautiful red gown, yet chained in front of a strong, struggling boy who appeared half human, half demon. Zeus stood behind the boy, a curving knife in hand, glinting silver. Around them was a crowd of people cheering.

          Not a memory, she realized, because Gideon had some of the details wrong. He was simply creating a scene from what she'd told him.

          For a long while, she debated: show him the truth or leave him to the illusion. An illusion that would be much easier to digest than reality.

          He needs to know. Who spoke to her this time, she didn't know.

          Did he, though? Sometimes she would prefer not to know herself.

          He needs to know. For Steel. Steel deserved a father who knew how he'd lived--and died.

          With that, Scarlet's reservations vanished. For Steel, she would do anything.

          Trembling, she reached out and waved a hand over dream Scarlet's gown. That was the easiest correction to make and a good place to start. The material disappeared as if her palm was an eraser. Then, with another wave of her hand, she repainted her clothing. A dirty white robe, stained with blood. Ripped at one shoulder. She added cuts and bruises to her face and arms.

          Gulping, she eyed the crowd. Using both hands, she wiped them away, leaving herself, Steel and Zeus, and a figure cloaked in darkness. A being whose feet didn't quite touch the ground, the hem of his black robe blowing in a wind no one else could see. The being who would accept and cage Steel's demon.

          Without the cheers, a near-deafening silence took over.

          Next, she changed the surrounding hippodrome where Zeus had often hosted his chariot games to an abandoned temple. White alabaster columns rose all around, dewy green ivy climbing their beveled lengths. There were steps that led to a cracked marble altar, each stained crimson from the many sacrifices that had taken place there.

          That done, she turned her attention to Zeus. Her fingers curled in as her mind shouted avoid! She might snap. But she didn't stop. His gold and purple robe was the first to go. In its place, she painted armor. Silver. Etched with jagged yet beautiful butterflies that matched the tattoo on her back, as well as the tattoo on Gideon's right thigh. Between each of the butterflies was a glowing bolt of lightning.

          The knife the Greek sovereign held became a serrated machete crafted for maximum pain. With it, he didn't just slice. He ruined.

          Do it. The rest. Gideon had gotten the god's facial features correct. Eyes that mirrored the thunderbolts adorning his armor, snapping, sizzling, glowing. A blade of a nose. Thin lips, but a strong jaw that more than made up for the shortcoming. Zeus had thick, pale hair that curled to his shoulders, the perfect accompaniment to skin the color of bullion. Sometimes, when you looked closely enough, you could see the streaks of lightning shooting through his veins.

          Good. Survey done. Only, it wasn't relief she felt. One last detail to change...

          Finally, she moved her attention to Steel. Tears instantly burned her eyes, and her shaking increased, nearly toppling her into a sobbing heap. All the while, she could feel helplessness churning inside Gideon. He wasn't here, was merely watching with a mental eye, but his emotions were completely engaged. Everything he felt here, he would feel later, when he awoke.

          Do it. Just do it. She shaved Steel's horns down, hating the action, hating herself; the Greeks hadn't wanted the boy to use them as the weapons they'd been. She added patches of scales along the right side of his body. So beautiful. His teeth, she sharpened so that two fangs protruded over his bottom lip. My baby.

          Humans would have found the boy grotesque...beastly. She found him lovely. Her heart lurched, so badly did she want to urge him to her chest and hold on forever. My angel. Taken too soon.

          Finish it. Gulping again, chin trembling, she lengthened the boy's eyelashes and changed his eye color from black, like hers, to electric blue, like Gideon's. She added several years to his age. Gideon had pictured him as a young boy of eleven or twelve. He'd appeared closer to sixteen, a teenager who had never had the chance to date or make love. A teenager who had never felt worthy or loved, and oh, she knew that feeling well.

          In actuality, though, she didn't know if he had dated or loved anyone.

          Her tears began to fall freely as she covered him in dirt and bruises, broke his arm, his leg, and added thick scars to his back. Hundreds of them.

          There. It was done. For good or ill, it was done. The scene was painted.

          And now...now it was time for Gideon to see how things had truly unfolded.

          Unsure whether she could live through this again--for Steel, anything for Steel--Scarlet nodded, arms falling heavily to her sides, and each image jerked to sudden life.

          "Please don't do this," dream Scarlet begged. "Please. I'll do anything you want." The cut on her lip split, and blood seeped down her chin. "Just leave him alone. Please."

          Zeus's hard expression never wavered. "Countless times you've tried to escape, and yet you expect me to offer you a boon? Surely even you couldn't be that foolish."

          "He's just a boy. He did nothing wrong. Punish me. Kill me. Just let him go. Please."

          "He's not just a boy. He's centuries old."

          "Please. Please, Your Highness. Please."

          Through it all, Steel kept his head bowed and his eyes averted. He wasn't trembling, he wasn't crying. He was silent, still. Expectant. As if he deserved everything that was to be done to him.

          "As long as he lives, you will continue to defy me," Zeus said. "Therefore, he must die. Simple, really."

          "I won't try to escape again. I swear it. I'll return to prison and quietly rot there. Please."

          "You had that option, daughter of Rhea. Once." Gaze never leaving her, the god king tossed his blade in the air, caught it by the handle. "But I must admit, I do like the thought of your head rolling. Perhaps I was too hasty in selecting who should die. What do you think, Steel? Shall I kill your mother or shall I leave that honor to you?"

          At that, Steel finally looked up. Shock curtained his features, overshadowing the acceptance and shame. "M-mother?"

          Such a sweet voice, with hints of smoke and cloud.

          Scarlet offered him a watery smile. "I love you." The very words she'd yearned to say for so long. "No matter what happens, Steel, I love you. I've always loved you and always will. I didn't give you up, my darling. You were taken from me." Choked now.

          "Yes, she's your mother. Yes, you were taken from her," Zeus confirmed as the teen turned to him in stunned confusion. "You may offer your thanks now."

          Steel's shock gave way to horror, liquid red bleeding into his azure irises. He was the reason she was chained, after all. Thinking she was an enemy to the crown, he'd led Zeus straight to her. "Mother," he said again, and this time, there was pain in that beloved voice. "I--I--"

          "Don't blame yourself, sweet boy. You are everything I wanted you to be. Strong. Lovely. Intelligent. You did exactly as I would've done had the situation been reversed. I love you so much." She couldn't speak quickly enough, knowing that at any moment--

          "Enough," Zeus barked, just as she'd feared. "I asked a question and desire an answer. So which is it to be, Steel? Will her death be delivered by my hand or yours?"

          "I--I don't want you to kill her." Steel's watery gaze drank her in greedily, as if he were memorizing every little thing about her. "And I do not wish to kill her, either. Let her live. Please." His plea mirrored all the ones she'd given before.

          Scarlet fought with every ounce of strength she possessed. She had to reach him. Couldn't bear to see him pained. "I'll be fine, darling. Let him do it. It's fine, I swear to you." She would rather die herself than allow a single scratch to befall Steel.

          "I will not be merciful," Zeus said.

          "I don't care," Scarlet told them both. Better she suffer now than Steel suffer in the coming centuries because he'd murdered her.

          Silence. Terrible, terrible silence. But then, something far worse. "Kill me instead," Steel said. "I am nothing. No one."

          "No!" Scarlet screamed.

          But Zeus nodded, stroked his jaw and ignored her, focusing on her son. "You're right. She's much too valuable to dispose of. As the bastard daughter of Rhea, she is an embarrassment to Cronus and thus a priceless weapon to wield against him should the need arise."

          She calmed. A chance. Hope. Zeus considered her a tool to be used against his enemies.

          "Still. She must be punished for her actions. Whatever shall I do, then?" he asked, seeming genuinely pensive.

          Hope dwindling... "Send Steel away," she pleaded. "That will punish me. I'll wonder where he is and what's happening to him. Please. Please. Nothing would hurt me more than that. You know this is true."

          Slowly Zeus grinned. He nodded. "An excellent plan. I'll send him elsewhere."

          Hope renewed, flooding her. "Thank you." Her shoulders sagged, her breath emerging shallowly. Her son would be safe. He would live. He would grow into the man he was meant to be. "Thank you so much, great king." Thanks continued to pour from her lips. She was babbling, she knew she was, but couldn't stop. "Thank you."

          But she'd spoken too soon.

          "I'll send him to the afterlife," the god added, at last silencing her. "As I originally planned."

          As he'd always planned, she realized. He'd never considered letting the boy go, had only been toying with her.

          Steel's eyes widened. In fear, in regret, then fixed on hers in resolve. "I'm sorry. Mother."

          Scarlet screamed, the force shaking the temple, shattering her own eardrums. "No! No!"

          "Yes." With no hesitation, Zeus raised the blade and struck.

          GIDEON AWOKE with a roar and bolted upright. Tears were streaming down his cheeks in streams of acid. With a shaky hand, he reached up and wiped them away. Dear gods. He'd just seen Zeus slit his son's throat. He'd felt Scarlet's pain and helplessness. Her desperation.

          That's how it had happened, he knew it was. Scarlet had shown him. He'd sensed her in the dream. Her sweet scent, the intensity of her emotions. She truly would have done anything to save that boy. Anything. That's how much she'd loved him. And she'd had to recover from his loss alone.

          Gideon wouldn't have been able to do so. He was barely holding himself together now, and he still couldn't remember the boy. That beautiful boy. How strong Scarlet was. How resourceful. She was a survivor to the marrow of her bones.

          His respect for her doubled. His desire for her tripled.

          She deserved to be pampered. She deserved to be fought for as the prize she was. So pamper her he would. Fight for her he would. He couldn't make up for the past, but he could give her a better future.

          Lock her away again? Never! He'd been a fucking idiot to think otherwise. Dangerous or not, she was his. He would kill anyone, even his friends, if they threatened her.

          He'd have to find her, though. A difficult task, surely, considering she wouldn't want to see him. And--

          His gaze had been circling the bedroom, ensuring no enemies lurked nearby, a habit ingrained from centuries of war. Now he stopped abruptly.

          Scarlet. Here. Sleeping. Surreal.

          She was cuddled up beside him, her legs straight, one hand flattened over her heart, the other draped over her forehead. That mass of silky black hair was splayed around her shoulders, gleaming like polished ebony. She was a feminine feast, made to love and be loved.