Fighting Fate, page 29
From what he explained to me during our many hours wait for Hermes on the side of the mountain, he usually only affects the weather like this when he’s incredibly angry. Nothing enrages him more than a threat to the people he cares about.
“Uh oh,” I say in a sing-song voice as I glance up to the ceiling then smirk at my father. “Someone’s been a bad, bad boy.”
He narrows his eyes coldly while moving toward me. “You! You should be dead!”
“Her power, Manu,” my now feeble and pathetic-looking mother demands as she tugs on his pant leg when he stops beside her. “Her power.”
He looks down upon her in disgust, then easily pulls the device from her weak grip. He straightens, points, and pulls the trigger almost in one motion. I feel nothing. I look down at myself, then up at the device he’s pointed at me. “I guess it’s a dud.”
Father stares at me with a gaze of jagged stone before he turns the device toward my mother and pulls the trigger.
HADYN
I gently nudge Lukas to the side so he won’t be caught in our fight. My other hand reaches into the pocket dimension for my hammer while I keep my gaze on Athena.
“You’ve claimed to be the goddess of wisdom as well as war for some laughable reason. Tell me, what wisdom is there in treating your son so poorly?”
Her eyes widen in alarm as her gaze fixates on my hammer which crackles with sparks of fire. I am really struggling to contain my anger and it’s showing. She backs away step by step as I speak before whirling to shout at Ares and her sister. “You imbeciles! You were supposed to make sure he didn’t have his power anymore!”
Ares holds Aphrodite to him, part embrace and part shackles. She is whining some sort of explanation that will make everything not her fault.
Of course.
At Athena’s shout, they look up with varying expressions, none of which is remorse. I truly think these two narcissistic egos deserve each other. I am well shod of having them in my life, and good riddance.
Seeing their lack of response, Athena lets out a seething shout of rage before whirling back to me. “This isn’t over!”
Yes, it is. My hammer doesn’t fail. I raise my hand to rid us of her presence for good, when she jerks backward and then disappears as she translocates.
I stop, affronted at her cowardice on top of the other emotions flooding me. After taking deep breaths to calm down, I turn toward Lukas, hoping he hasn’t been disturbed by my temper. He meets my gaze from several feet away where he’s standing with his arms crossed, his body language showing uneasiness. I assume it’s about me and begin to walk over, hoping to reassure him, when his eyes slide over toward Ares and Aphrodite. I freeze in my tracks once I begin tuning in to their conversation.
“I want to go after that Karma woman now,” Aphrodite wheedles while tilting up her face to show the slight pout of her mouth and eyes that she has widened to emulate innocence. It’s a look I remember well with no fondness whatsoever. “They promised us power, Ares, and we haven’t gotten it yet.”
“We have the necklace,” he tells her with a knuckle grazing the skin surrounding the jewelry adorning her neck, drawing my gaze. My attention sharpens at the familiar design. I don’t know if I would have recognized it without the unintended direction. Now that I have, I know the shape and pattern as the ill-fated necklace I made long ago that started all of this trouble.
“Hang the necklace!” she spouts venomously. “The witch didn’t do the curse reversal right. He should have been punished more by now. Taking that woman away from him will hurt him like he deserves.”
Energy crackles around me. Fire is easy, but on the rare occasions that my anger flares so hot that it turns into the cold fires of rage, the energy condenses into electricity. My grip tightens on my hammer as arcs of fiery current manifest on the weapon with an audible buzz.
I miss the response from Ares, but I don’t need hearing when I can see he isn’t telling her no. He stops mid-sentence, alarmed at the sight of my rage-fueled, lightning-powered form stepping closer. Aphrodite turns when he ceases paying attention to her. When she sees me, she pulls away from Ares toward the only other male in the room. She shrieks, which breaks through the strange fugue state I had fallen into.
“Save me, Phanaeus! Save me!”
“Hell, Aunt Aphro,” I hear behind me in my son’s moderately deep voice. “After everything I’ve heard today, I don’t want to save you. In fact, I pretty much feel like killing you myself for what you did to me and my father.” He pauses as she cries out in protest, then says quietly, “I think you should run now.”
I turn to lunge after her. I haven’t harmed a woman before, but I’m completely willing to harm one now. She’s used up all her chances with me, and from her own lips, she’s proved to be a threat. To my wife most of all, which is completely intolerable.
She disappears just as Ares’s sword flashes in front of me.
I jerk to a halt, then turn slowly to meet my brother’s gaze. He doesn’t look apologetic at all, merely determined.
“I can’t let you hurt her.” He straightens as if making a decision. “In fact, I can’t let you live.”
“You’re going to fight and kill me over a foolish, vindictive, cowardly . . .” I falter, grasping for the right word.
“Bitch,” my son supplies helpfully as he leans against the wall nearby.
“Yes, thank you, Lukas.” I quickly glance over toward him in acknowledgment before turning back to Ares, speaking more firmly. “A vindictive, cowardly bitch like her?”
He turns to glare at Lukas, who points to the door and says, “I’ll just go find my new stepmom now, shall I?”
After Ares watches my son leave, some tension seems to be released as he shrugs, but he doesn’t quite manage to convey a sense of ease. “I don’t need a reason to kill you, but she’s mine and you aren’t taking her from me.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s always about possessions with you. Your sword, your house, your woman, your relationship with our father . . . Listen to me, Brother. I don’t want any of that. I especially don’t want her. I only wanted the illusion she portrayed at the beginning that wasn’t real.”
He frowns, shifting his grip on his sword. “What illusion?”
“The illusion that someone wanted me for me. Didn’t you notice that she’s good at making it appear she’s everything you want when she’s really nothing but a vain, self-focused woman?”
His face twitches in rejection. “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “Well, you’re good at deluding yourself. Make no mistake, though, Ares. If Aphrodite intends to harm Karma, then she must be stopped. If she somehow succeeds in killing my wife, then I’ll make it my life mission to destroy the bitch entirely.”
“And, as I said before, I can’t let you live, so it’s a moot point.”
“Now, now,” I say half-mockingly since he’s aways been Zeus’s right hand. “What would Father say if you killed his only other acknowledged son?”
He sneers as he raises his sword, the blade flashing in the light. “What makes you think he hasn’t already approved your death?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
KARMA
“Wait!”
I put out my hands, trying to stop my father. His tall figure is unyielding as he stares coldly down into my mother’s face, artificially aged and worn by my karmic powers. She doesn’t say a word, merely curls her lip in disgust as he pulls the trigger.
Something kept the device from working on me. Unfortunately, it is not the same for my mother. My father holds down the trigger while pointing the device at her. There isn’t much to see aside from a slight vibration in the device, but I can almost feel the power moving from Mother to Father. I rush forward, trying to stop him, and stumble over my sluggish feet. My mother slumps to the floor, unmoving, looking almost brittle.
I come to a staggering halt only steps away and hold my breath in horror when my father pulls out a dagger, with engravings on the blade and hilt, then stabs her in the heart. My mother’s body practically deflates as what little life remained now leaves.
My father swiftly stands. While holding the dagger that still drips with blood in his other hand, he immediately rotates the device back toward me and pulls the trigger.
Nothing happens.
He scowls and looks at the device, then tugs the trigger several more times while aiming at me. My breath whooshes right out of my chest in relief that I’m still alive. However, I’m completely confused. I have no idea why the device isn’t working on me.
“Stupid device,” my father mutters, jamming his fingers on a couple buttons. He tries again to take my powers to no avail. “I must have your power and abilities!”
“What?” I ask in astonishment.
He scowls in disgust. “The dull man you brought here was a waste. The only good that came from it is that those perfect blonds don’t have his powers, either.”
I’m not sure which blonds he’s talking about, but one thing is certain. No one gets Hadyn but me.
“Good. I want him in one piece.”
“Oh, you won’t have him, either,” he says slyly. “He’s gone by now with a woman he believes is you. Once he leaves and realizes he’s got the wrong person, he won’t be able to come back, and by then, it will be too late. Your powers will be mine!”
My mind stutters to a halt. He’s gone with someone else? That doesn’t sound right. I also can’t believe it of him.
Trust.
The word reverberates in my mind.
This is a test. Do I trust Hadyn to be wise and not fall for these traps? Do I trust him to stay and not leave me? Do I trust him to have my back?
Yes, yes, and yes.
A sense of Hadyn’s presence comes near, as if he stands at my back.
Karma, my love. I need you. I didn’t think I would have to fight my brother for real.
I can hear Hadyn telepathically! The bond must have locked into place. I’m surprised by how much I miss his presence.
I’m with you, I send him. My father killed my mother.
I’m here.
I receive strength and support through the bond that gives me an increase in power for when I need it. It also gives me courage to continue when faced with the knowledge that my father has become a psychotic killer.
“Why do you want my powers specifically?” I ask him in exasperation. “I’m not a threat to either one of you. I don’t care about the stupid prophecy!”
“The prophecy was your mother’s concern,” he says with a flick of his fingers, ignoring that her body lay next to him. “Your powers are the strongest in the family, so they must be mine. I will be the strongest Fate.”
“Who cares about being the strongest Fate?” I ask in disgust while looking around the room, trying to see if anyone will help with my delusional father. “That’s just asking for a headache! Even those with less power can still have a purpose.”
Sadly, my powers have taken any usefulness from my sisters. The only one who isn’t lying listlessly against the sofas and chairs is Dekla. She is staring at my mother’s body with an unreadable expression. I’m not sure what happened to Dolos, but I can still hear those cackling snickers from Erasmus.
“I will have all the power,” my father says while clutching the device. I must have missed him putting away the knife, but it’s no longer in his hands. “I will be the only one left!”
“What, like Highlander?” I ask incredulously. “Do you realize how much of a megalomaniac you sound? It’s ridiculous!”
My father isn’t usually this verbose about his plans and desires. He’s more often coldly quiet.
His face darkens considerably until he looks nothing like himself and more like a vengeful villain. He opens his mouth to respond while moving forward, he’s pulled back to a stop. He whirls with anger, then jerks from side to side.
I crane my head to look behind him, only to see Dekla attacking him with her fists. “You killed my mother, you arrogant bastard!”
“Your mother served her purpose,” he responds with no emotion coloring his voice as he deflects her hands. “And so will you.”
Just as I realize his intent, he lifts the device and pulls the trigger.
“No!” she shouts as she reaches forward to grab at his hands. They both struggle while Dekla loses strength. She collapses to the floor, the force of which allows her to finally pull the device from my father’s grasp. Because of her weakness, she can’t keep hold of it. The device flies through the air over her head and back toward the door.
“No!” my father yells in frustration, trying to reach it.
I can almost feel the slow motion as we all watch the arc of flight the device achieves. Just as I am beginning to hope it will land on the floor and break once and for all, a figure scurries out from the shadows and catches it.
“Yes! My precious, I knew I would get you back.” He chortles with glee, hugging it to himself then scampering out of the room.
“Was that Erasmus?” I ask in confusion once we can no longer hear his cackles through the door. He was usually well put together, and the man that left looked disheveled. He’s still an annoying, arrogant prat.
The door opens again to a strongly built man resembling Hadyn, but with platinum-blond hair. I blink in confusion. This can’t be the man I love. He’s way too short . . . and blond.
“Ah!” He smiles with delight when he sees me. “It’s the new stepmom!”
I frown, but the man is already pointing down the hallway. “I saw that guy leave. Do we need him?”
“Yes!” I cry out, deciding his connection with Hadyn can be dealt with later. “He’s got a dangerous device. Don’t let him point it at you!”
“Got it,” he says with determination, and runs off, letting the door remain open a crack.
I hear my father growl in anger and turn in time to see him pull the knife out and stab Dekla in the heart.
“Stop!” I cry out in dismay. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you,” he says dispassionately as he retrieves the knife and stands to turn his hard eyes on me. “I will be the strongest Fate. If the only way to do so is to kill all the rest of you, then so be it.”
Both eyes and head move to the side, in a way that makes him look incredibly creepy until he sets his eyes on Mira. She has finally pulled herself onto the settee closest to us. She looks at our father with terror, as if he is the source of all her nightmares. Who knows, maybe he is. I really have no idea what my sisters have endured from our parents since they were long out of the house during those fifteen years I lived with them. I only ever saw them at parties and reunions after that.
When he takes a step toward my sisters, it doesn’t matter if they are vain, silly, smart, or selfish. I know I can’t let him touch anyone else.
I run around the other side of the sofa as I pull out my scythe—oh, fine, it’s a damn sickle—and get there in time to knock his knife hand away from stabbing Mira.
Father’s face turns dark with anger until his eyes catch sight of the weapon in my hand.
“Is that Khronos’s sickle?” he asks calmly, but I can see the greed growing in his eyes.
“It is,” I say, outwardly confident and inwardly dreading what I must do. “If you won’t stop killing your family on your own, then I’ll do it for you.”
He gives me a sly smile. “Will you, daughter? Will you, indeed? I suppose you don’t recognize this dagger.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him as we hover over my sister on the settee below us, who is trying to make herself as small as possible. It’s difficult when you are six feet tall, but she manages.
“Ah,” he gloats proudly, “but it does. This dagger belonged to Hemera, the so-called goddess of day. I took it from her dead body.”
HADYN
After pronouncing that my father wants my death, Ares lunges forward with a yell to distract me. I meet his ferocious attack stroke for stroke as we slowly back up to the doors leading out of the house. I blindly search behind me for the handles with one hand while I continue to fend off my brother with the other.
Sparks fly off our weapons every time they meet, which is one of the reasons I am trying to lead us both out of the house.
Finally, I find a lever that seems right and push it down, opening the door. I spring backward and quickly do a 360-degree turn so I can take in the terrain as much as possible in this one quick glance before focusing on my brother, who continues after me.
Dark clouds have formed above us in the night sky. The energy I expelled earlier is building the storm within the thick wisps. The wind has picked up and the temperature has dropped a few degrees.
As we move in the relatively open grassy area between the house and an old building some distance away, I manage conversation in between our mostly even exchanges. “Why would our father have approved my death . . . aside from that he hates me? Last I knew, he was consolidating his power, including those of his children, and even taking credit for others who were powerful.”
“Because you were the one who destroyed Harmonia and her children!” he snarls at me as he swings his sword as hard as possible, causing my hammer to reverberate with each strike. “Our precious daughter! When he told me about the necklace you made, I said I wanted your death. He agreed!”
I choke on a laugh of incredulity as I swipe his sword aside. “Are you serious? Yes, I made the necklace. However, he probably neglected to say that he was the one who commissioned it from me saying it was for our mother! Not to mention that he took the necklace to Circe so she could enchant it to give the wearer nothing but misfortune.”
Ares snarls, “That’s ridiculous. Why would he do such a thing to his own granddaughter?”
“Because he tried to seduce Harmonia and she rejected him!”
He stops attacking and stares at me with a mixed expression of emotions, but I can tell part of him believes me and is horrified by it. “You lie!”
