The Dark-Hunters, page 433
“Yes, but I’m meaner and madder.” She snatched her hand away, making a lasting sting on his lobe.
Frowning, he rubbed his ear.
She pointed at her dressing table where a plate of fruit, bread and cheese rested. “Sit down and eat. Now!”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” As Acheron reached for a bit of cheese, he caught his reflection. Sunken eyes tinged by red stared out from an unkempt man. His beard was ragged, his cropped hair shaggy. He looked like an old man instead of a youth.
That was okay, he felt even older than he looked. Averting his gaze, he placed the cheese in his mouth while Ryssa poured him a goblet of wine.
She left him to walk over to the door that led to her maid’s quarters. “Nera? Would you have them draw me a bath in my room? And find me a razor.”
Acheron didn’t speak as he ate. Honestly, he was starving. The maids hadn’t been bringing food for him and he didn’t dare go in search of it on his own given the way his father had reacted the last time he found him near the kitchen and dining room.
When Ryssa returned, she was holding Apollodorus. The baby smiled the moment he saw Acheron and reached for him.
Unable to deny him, Acheron took him into his arms. “Greetings, bit. How have you been?”
He squealed in response.
Acheron look up at Ryssa as she folded cloth for a diaper. “He’s grown since I last saw him.”
“Yes, he has.”
Acheron glanced at the baby’s thinning hair. “You’re getting bald too.”
Ryssa laughed suddenly. “You did the same thing. All of your black hair fell out and then it came back in blond.”
Apollodorus reached out and tugged at his beard.
Acheron held the baby out to Ryssa. “I’m too dirty to hold him.”
“He doesn’t mind. He’s just glad to see his uncle again. He’s missed you.”
He’d missed him too.
Acheron hugged the baby close even as he glared at his sister. “That’s unfair, Ryssa. You know what would befall me if Father ever found me here. And if he ever saw me near Apollodorus…”
She placed her hand on his shoulder. “I know, Acheron.”
The door opened to admit servants who brought in a large tub and hot water. Ryssa took the baby while Acheron ate more.
Once the bath was ready, she left him alone.
With more enthusiasm than he wanted, Acheron sank into the steaming hot water and sighed. It’d been so long since he last had a bath that he’d almost forgotten how good it felt. Even so, it wasn’t worth the risk to him.
“I love you, Ryssa,” he whispered. She was the only one who really cared about him. Artemis wanted to love him, but she was a goddess and hers was a selfish love—very much like Estes’s. So long as he pleased her, she was kind. Granted she was more giving than Estes had ever been, but there were still limits on what she’d do.
What hurt most with Artemis was the memory of how they’d been in the beginning. He craved that innocence on his part. That feeling that he’d meant something to her …
Trying not to think about it, he reached for the razor to finally scrape his cheeks smooth. Once he was finished, he dragged himself out of the tub and reached for his clean clothes.
After he was dressed, he knocked on the door to the maid’s room. “I’m finished. Thank you.”
Ryssa joined him before she closed the door so the maid couldn’t hear them. “Please don’t take any more of your drugs, Acheron. I don’t like what they do to you.” The concern in her pale blue eyes scalded him.
“I’ll wean myself.”
“Promise?”
He nodded. “But only for you.”
She smiled at him. “You look so much better. Anytime you want a bath, come here and I’ll have one drawn for you.” She lifted herself up on her tiptoes to hug him.
Acheron gave her a squeeze, then withdrew. He’d stayed here too long already. They both knew the risk was too great for him to be in her chambers while the rest of the household was awake.
Entering his room again, he stared at the arc of Morpheus Root on his table.
Throw it out.
No, he couldn’t. He’d be sick again if he stopped cold. His existence was miserable enough without that. He’d do what he promised Ryssa. He’d wean himself back off it.
“Acheron?”
He tensed at Artemis’s voice. How did she know the precise moment to come see him?
Then again, she was a goddess.
“Greetings, Artie.”
She flashed in behind him and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Mmm, you smell good.”
It was the bath mixed with the drugs. “I just bathed.”
Pulling back, she scowled at him. “You look strange. Are you ill?”
“No.”
“Then come. I’m in the mood to dance.”
As if he had a choice? But he wasn’t in the mood to be defiant. He was actually learning to avoid beatings and enjoying it.
Artemis took him to her temple. Acheron drew up short as he saw what she’d done to it. There were candles everywhere while the music played very low. A small feast had been laid out.
He frowned at her. “What is this?”
She offered him a tender smile. “It’s been a while since we’ve been together. I wanted it to be special tonight. Do you like it?”
He was too surprised to even think. “You did this for me?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t set romantic lighting for my brother or one of my koris.” She went to the table and picked up a small box. “And I had Hephaestus make this for you.”
Acheron was completely stunned as he stared at the box and what it signified. This was so out of character for her that for a moment he wondered if someone had knocked her in the head. “You have a gift for me?”
“Well, I wanted something to replace the ring. You can’t take this back with you, but you can leave it here to use when you visit me.”
Curious, he opened the box to find a set of gold vambraces.
Artemis squeezed his forearm. “It’s for your wrists whenever we hunt. You never say anything, but I know the bowstring stings your wrist when you shoot. These will protect your skin and they’ll make sure the arrow always flies true to its mark.”
It was so incredibly thoughtful and reminded him of how easy it’d been to give his heart to her. Why couldn’t she always be like this?
“Thank you, Artie.”
“Does it make you happy?”
She was almost childlike in her effort to please him. Acheron brushed the hair back from her face so that he could kiss her cheek. “It makes me more than happy.”
“Good. You’ve been so sad lately and I don’t like it when you’re sad.”
Then why did she do the things she did that upset him? He didn’t understand it, but she was trying now. He wasn’t about to throw the past in her face.
He held his hand out to her. “Shall we dance?”
Smiling, she took his hand and allowed him to twirl her around. Her laughter filled his ears.
Acheron wanted desperately to feel her joy too. But there was nothing in him except a fleeting sense of relief that she wasn’t throwing him down and jumping on top of him. Of course he was still buzzed from the remnants of the Morpheus Root he’d taken a couple of hours ago. It was the part where his body was calm and he could function without being horny or sick.
Artemis leaned her head against his chest and sighed while they swayed to the low music.
Gods how he wanted to love her again. But he was so afraid of it. Every time he let his guard down, she hurt him. If she would just acknowledge them as friends to the world. Or allow him to know that he really did mean something to her.
Wanting her friendship back, he swallowed. “Artie?”
“Yes?”
“Would you spend tomorrow with me?”
She smiled happily. “I can come get you in the morning.”
“Not here. In Didymos.”
She pulled away from him. “I don’t know, Acheron. Someone could see us.”
It always came down to that. “You can take other forms. You don’t have to look like you.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “Why is this important to you? Why not stay here with me?”
Don’t say it …
But he couldn’t help it. The drugs wouldn’t let him hold his tongue. “I don’t feel human here.”
She scowled. “What?”
Acheron stepped away from her in indecision. Part of him didn’t want to tell her the truth, but the other was sick of hiding it from her. “Being here makes me feel like a pet dog. It’s like living in my uncle’s home in Atlantis. I’m not allowed to leave your bedroom unless you’re with me. I can’t go outside without your permission. It’s demeaning.”
“Demeaning?” She narrowed her eyes on him. “You are in the temple of a goddess on Olympus. How in the name of Zeus could you be demeaned by that?”
You. Whore. Given her tone, the words were interchangeable. They struck him like a knife through his heart. “Forgive me, akra. It’s not my place to make requests of you.”
She curled her lip. “Oh, stop with that sniveling tone. I hate it when you do that. Just get out.”
He was immediately thrown back into his room. He looked around the plain furnishings and the dark shadows.
“I’m so sick of this.”
Desperate for something to change, he grabbed his cloak and headed out of the palace, into the city. He didn’t pause until he reached Merus and Eleni’s home. The firelight flickered behind the closed shutters and he imagined the two of them inside, laughing and teasing.
Family.
He knew the word, but he didn’t really understand it. What it would be like to be welcomed home. To know that out there was one person who would die for him.
You will never find that here.
Acheron looked around the vacant street and remembered the day his father had thrown him out of Estes’s home. He’d wandered for months trying to find someplace to rest. Trying to find work. Everyone refused to hire him. At least for anything other than whoring.
You’re such a pretty thing … Let’s put that body to good use …
He cringed at the bitter memories that always haunted him. I want out.
And he’d tried to find that out. He’d gone to city after city, town after town, and they’d all been the same. There was nowhere to go and no one who wanted him for a moment longer than it took for them to screw him. The only reason he’d returned here had been the memory of his sister and the one summer when he’d felt like a person and not an object.
Sick to his stomach, he looked up the hill to where the palace twinkled like a magical star.
And still those Atlantean voices whispered to him.
Come to us, Apostolos. Come home …
Acheron laughed bitterly. “Why? So you can fuck me like everyone else?”
There was nowhere for him to go. No escape from this torment. The only reason he had to live was for the two people in this world who didn’t judge him.
Ryssa and Apollodorus. May the gods have mercy on him if he were to lose them. He would never be able to go on should they leave this world without him.
FEBRUARY 18, 9527 BC
“I don’t know what it is about you and that baby, but you are the most amazing nurse ever born.”
Acheron laughed at Ryssa’s comment as she took Apollodorus from his arms. Neither of them could understand why Acheron’s presence calmed his nephew, but there was no denying that anytime Apollodorus was fussy, he calmed down immediately for Acheron. In fact, Ryssa had begun bringing the babe to him virtually every night so that she could sleep.
“You know you can leave him with me anytime at all. I think we get along so well because we both function on the same level.” Acheron ruffled the soft hair on his nephew’s head.
Smiling, Ryssa wrapped the blanket around Apollodorus. “Thank the gods I have you. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here to help out with him.”
An instant later the doors to Acheron’s room crashed open. Six guards stormed in to tackle him to the floor.
“What is this?” Ryssa demanded.
They didn’t respond. Acheron fought them, but in the end they shackled him while the baby screamed in protest.
“He’s done nothing!” Ryssa shouted as she followed them out of the room and down the hallway.
They didn’t stop until they’d taken him to the throne room and forced him to his knees in front of his father and Styxx who sat smugly on their thrones while they stared at him in disdain.
Acheron glared at them. “Why am I here?”
His father came off his throne with a bellow of rage. “You do not ask questions of me, traitor!”
Stunned, Acheron couldn’t even blink for a full minute.
“Father!” Ryssa snapped. “Have you lost your reason?”
His answer was to backhand Acheron. “Where were you last night?”
Acheron panted at the pain that exploded through his cheek and eye. He’d been with Artemis, but he didn’t dare tell his father that. “I was in my room.”
His father struck him again. “Liar. I have witnesses who saw you in a stew, plotting my murder.”
Stunned, he couldn’t even respond. All he could do was look at Styxx and the fearful light in the prince’s eyes told him exactly who’d been in the stew. “I’ve done no such thing.”
His father hit him again before he turned to the guards. “Torture him until he decides to tell us the truth.”
Acheron cried out a denial as he fought the guards holding him.
“Father, no!” Ryssa moved forward.
The king turned on her with a feral snarl. “You’re not going to save him this time. He’s committed treason and I will not allow that to go unanswered.”
His breathing ragged, Acheron, who was being restrained by the guards, met and held Styxx’s gaze. How could his brother plot the death of a man who worshiped the ground he walked on? He would sell his soul to have just a portion of the love Styxx spurned.
But there was no need to ask for clemency. His father had already made up his mind. Only the bastard Acheron could be the traitor. Never Styxx. The only person who could exonerate him was Artemis. And she’d rather die than openly admit he’d been with her in her temple last night.
Acheron was hauled out of the throne room and taken to the prison below.
Even though he fought the guards every step of the way, it wasn’t enough to prevent them from stripping his clothes off his body and then chaining him down on the interrogation block. The granite stone chilled him to his bones. There were bloodstains permanently dried in the stone and there was no doubt that his own blood would soon mix with that of the others who’d been tortured and killed before him.
Closing his eyes, Acheron tried to think of something, anything to protect himself from what was about to happen. But as the interrogator came forward, he knew there was nothing he could do.
Nothing could save him from this.
“The king wants the names of everyone you met with.”
Acheron winced in fear of what would come when he told the truth. “I didn’t meet with anyone.”
He brought a hot steel whip down across Acheron’s chest.
Acheron screamed out as he realized just how impossible this was going to be.
* * *
Ryssa was terrified as she returned to her room and handed her crying son over to his nurse. What was she going to do?
Unlike her father, she knew who the real traitor had to be. If witnesses saw someone tall, blond and looking like Acheron, it was Styxx. Acheron would have nothing to gain by killing the king, other than vengeance, and he wasn’t the kind of person to go seeking that.
Not to mention Acheron would never have been in public uncovered, especially not a stew. Had he done so, he’d still be there, beating people off him.
“What have you done, Styxx?” she whispered through the tight lump in her throat.
Why would he plot against his own father? But then she knew, the history of mankind was written by sons wanting more and willing to do anything to get it. Even so, she’d thought Styxx above such scheming. Who could have poisoned his mind?
“I have to find Artemis.” There was no one else who could help save Acheron.
Ryssa headed for her door to leave, but before she took three steps, the doors opened to admit the same guards who’d arrested Acheron.
“Your Highness, you’re to be taken for questioning.”
Her heart chilled at those words. “Questioning? This can’t be.”
But it was. Surrounding her, they took her to her father’s war room where he waited with Styxx.
She gave them both the coldest look she could muster. “What is this, Father?”
He’d never looked older than he did right then. His handsome features were drawn tight with sadness. “Why would you betray me, daughter?”
“I’ve never done anything to betray you, Father, ever.”
He shook his head. “I have a witness who came forward and said that you were with Acheron last night.”
She leveled a killing glare at Styxx. “Then they are lying as they lied about Acheron. I was with Apollo last night. Summon him and see.”
Styxx’s face went white.
So, he’d thought to rid himself of her too. She couldn’t believe her father’s stupidity where Styxx was concerned.
Relief etched itself across her father’s brow. “I’m glad they’re mistaken, kitten.” He laid a gentle hand to her face. “The thought of my beloved daughter turning on me…”
What of his beloved son?
She looked past her father to see Styxx staring at the floor. “Acheron is innocent.”
“No, child. Not this time. I have too many witnesses who saw him there.”
Why couldn’t she make him see the truth? “Acheron would never be in a stew.”
“Of course he would. He worked in one. Where else would he go?”
Anywhere but there. Acheron had hated every minute of being in those places. “Please, Father. You’ve done enough to him. Let him be.”
He shook his head. “There is a nest of vipers coiled around me and until I uncover the name of everyone he spoke to, I won’t stop.”
