The Dark-Hunters (21 page)

It was for that reason that Iason stopped asking him to visit altogether. And it had torn him apart to be banned from the only safe home he’d ever known.

“I should have let them marry,” Julian said as he cupped Grace’s head with his arm, and buried his face against her neck to inhale the sweet comfort of her scent. “I knew it even then. But I couldn’t stand it. Year after year, I would see her love him. I watched his family dote upon him, while I didn’t even have a home to go to.”

“Why?” she asked. “You said you had brothers, wouldn’t they let you stay with them?”

He shook his head. “My father’s sons hated me passionately. Their mother would have let me in, but I refused to pay the price she asked for it. I didn’t have much in those days, but I still had my dignity.”

“You have dignity now, too,” she whispered, tightening her hold on his waist. “I’ve seen enough of it to know.”

Releasing her, he looked away at her words, his jaw tense.

“What happened to Iason?” she asked, seeking to keep him talking while he was in the mood for it. “Did he die in battle?”

He laughed bitterly. “No. When we were old enough to join the army, I kept him safe on the battlefield. I’d promised Penelope and his family that I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.”

Grace felt his heart pounding fiercely against her arms.

“As the years went by, it was my name people whispered in awe and fear. My legend and victories recounted over and over again. And when I returned to Thymaria, I ended up sleeping in the streets, or in the bed of whatever woman opened her door to me for the night, just biding my time until I could return to battle.”

Tears stung her eyes at the pain she heard in his voice. How could anyone have treated him that way?

“What happened to change it?” she asked.

He sighed. “One night, while I was looking for a place to sleep, I stumbled across the two of them in a lovers’ embrace. I quickly apologized, but as I left, I overheard Iason talking to Penelope.”

His entire body went rigid in her arms as his heartbeat raced even faster.

“What did he say?” Grace prompted.

The light in his eyes faded. “Penelope asked him why I never went to my brothers’ homes. Iason laughed and said, ‘No one wants Julian. He’s the son of Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, and not even she can stand to be near him.’”

Grace couldn’t breathe as he repeated the cruel words, and she could only imagine what he must have felt when he heard them.

Julian drew a ragged breath. “I had guarded him more times than I could count. Had taken numerous wounds in battle to protect him, including a spear straight through my side, and there he was mocking me to her. I couldn’t stand the injustice of it. I had thought we were brothers. And I guess in the end, we really were since he treated me the way the rest of my family had. I had never been anything more than a bastard stepchild. Alone and unwanted. I couldn’t understand why he had so many people to love him when I only wanted one.

“Angry and hurt by his words, I did what I’d never done before. I called out to Eros.”

Grace could easily guess what happened after that. “He made Penelope fall in love with you.”

He nodded. “He shot Iason with a lead arrow to kill his love for Penelope, and Penelope was given the golden arrow to make her love me. That was supposed to be the end of it…”

Rocking him gently in her arms, she waited for him to find his next words.

“It took two years before I finally convinced her father to let her marry a disinherited bastard without family influence. By then, my legend had grown, and I’d been promoted. I’d finally accumulated enough wealth to house her like royalty. And I spared no expense when it came to her. We had gardens, slaves, everything she wanted. I gave her freedom and latitude that no other woman of her time enjoyed.”

“It wasn’t enough?”

He shook his head. “There was still something missing and I knew she wasn’t quite right. Even before Eros interfered, she was always overly emotional. She would cling to Iason in a manner forbidden of Spartan women, and one time when he’d been wounded, she had shorn her hair completely off in grief.

“Then, after Eros shot her with his arrow, she would have long periods of great depression or rage. I did the best I could for her and I tried so hard to make her happy.”

Grace brushed his hair back as she listened.

“She told me she loved me, but I knew she didn’t care for me the way she’d cared for Iason. She gave herself willingly to me, and yet there was no real passion in her touch. I knew from the very first time I kissed her.

“I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter. Very few men in those days had love in their marriages. Besides, I was gone for months, even years, as I led my army. But in the end, I guess I had too much of my mother in me, because I wanted more.”

Grace ached for him.

“And then the day came when Eros, too, betrayed me.”

“Betrayed you how?” she asked anxiously, knowing this was the source of his curse.

“He and Priapus were drinking the night after I killed Livius. Eros drunkenly told him what he’d done for me. As soon as Priapus heard the story, he knew how to take revenge.

“He went to the Underworld and filled a cup with water from the Pool of Memory, then gave the cup to Iason for him to drink. As soon as the water touched his lips, Iason remembered their love. Priapus told him what I’d done, then gave him more water for Penelope.”

Julian felt his lips moving, but he wasn’t conscious of the words anymore. Instead, he closed his eyes and relived that wretched day.

He’d just come in from the stables and had happened upon Penelope and Iason in the atrium. Kissing.

Stunned, he’d stopped mid-stride as a wave of trepidation washed over him while he watched the heated way they embraced.

Until Iason looked up and saw him in the doorway.

The instant their eyes met, Iason curled his lip. “You worthless thief! Priapus told me of your treachery. How could you?”

Her face contorted by hatred, Penelope rushed at Julian, then slapped him. “You filthy bastard, I could kill you for what you’ve done.”

“And I
will
kill you for it.” Iason unsheathed his sword.

Julian tried to push Penelope out of the way, but she refused.

“Dear gods, I bore your children,” she said, trying to claw his face.

Julian held her wrists. “Penelope, I—”

“Don’t you touch me,” she snarled, wringing her arms from his grasp. “It makes my flesh crawl. Do you honestly think any decent woman would ever want you in the light of day? You are vile. Repulsive.”

She shoved him toward Iason. “Cut his heart out. I want to bathe in his blood until I can no longer smell his touch on me.”

Iason swung his sword.

Julian jumped back, out of the blade’s arc.

Instinctively, he reached for his own sword, but stopped. The last thing he wanted was to draw Iason’s blood. “I don’t want to fight you.”

“Don’t you? You violated my woman and sired children on her that should have been mine! I welcomed you into my home. I gave you a bed when no one else would have you near them, and this is how you repay me?”

Julian stared in disbelief. “Repaid
you?
Have you any idea the number of times I’ve saved your life in battle? How many beatings did I take for you? Can you even count them all? And yet you dared mock me.”

Iason laughed cruelly. “Everyone except Kyrian mocks you, you fool. In fact, he defends you so strongly that it makes me wonder what the two of you do when you wander off alone.”

Squelching the rage that would leave him vulnerable to Iason’s blade, Julian barely ducked the next attack. “Stop it, Iason. Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

“The only thing I regret is that I let a thief into my house,” Iason bellowed with rage, and swung again.

Julian tried to duck, but Penelope ran at him from behind and pushed him forward.

Iason’s blade caught him across the ribs.

Hissing in pain, Julian drew his own sword, then deflected a blow that would have left him headless had it made contact.

Iason tried to engage him, but Julian did nothing more than defend himself while trying to keep Penelope out of the thick of the fight.

“Don’t do this, Iason. You know your skills are inferior to mine.”

Iason pressed his attack. “There’s no way I’m going to let you keep her.”

The next few seconds had happened so fast, and yet Julian saw them unfold in sharp, crisp clarity.

Penelope caught Julian’s free arm at the same time Iason swung his sword. The blade narrowly missed Julian as she slung him about. Unbalanced, Julian tried to extract himself from her, but with Penelope in the way, he staggered forward at the same time Iason did.

The instant they collided, he felt his sword sink deep into Iason’s body.

“No!” Julian shouted, drawing his sword out of Iason’s stomach as Penelope let out a scream of pure, tormented anguish.

Slowly, Iason fell to the ground.

Dropping to his knees, Julian tossed his sword aside, and pulled his friend into his arms. “Dear gods, what have you done?”

Coughing up blood, Iason stared accusingly at him. “I did nothing. It was you who betrayed me. We were brothers and you stole my heart.”

Iason swallowed painfully as his pale eyes bored into Julian. “You never had anything in your life you didn’t steal from someone else.”

Julian trembled as guilt and agony washed over him. He’d never meant for this to happen. Never meant to hurt anyone, least of all Iason. He’d only wanted someone to love him. Only wanted a home where he was welcome.

But Iason was right. It was all his fault. All of it.

Penelope’s screams echoed in his ears. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled it as hard as she could. Her eyes wild, she wrenched the dagger from his waist.

“I want you dead! Dead!”

She plunged the dagger into his arm, then pulled back to strike again. Julian grabbed her hand.

With a feral shriek, she wrenched herself away.

“No,” she said, her eyes crazed. “I want you to suffer. You took from me what I loved most. Now I will take the same from you.” She ran from the room.

Overwhelmed by his grief and anger, Julian couldn’t move as he watched the life drain out of Iason’s body.

Until Penelope’s words sank into his dazed mind.

“No!” he roared, rising to his feet. “Don’t!”

He reached the door to her chambers in time to hear the children screaming. His heart shredded, he tried to open it, but she’d bolted it from the inside.

By the time he broke into her rooms, it was too late.

Too late …

Julian pressed his hands against his eyes as the horror of that day washed over him anew, and he felt Grace’s soothing touch on his skin.

He would never be able to purge the sight of them, the fear in his heart. The absolute agony.

The only thing in life he’d ever loved had been his children.

And they alone had loved him.

Why? Why had they had to suffer for his actions? Why couldn’t Priapus have tortured him without hurting them?

And how could Aphrodite have let it happen? It was one thing for her to turn a blind eye to him, but to let his children die …

That was why he’d gone to her temple that day. He’d planned to kill Priapus. To cleave his head from his shoulders and mount it on a pike.

“What happened?” Grace asked, dragging his thoughts back to the present.

“By the time I got there, it was too late,” he said, his throat aching as raw grief tore through him. “Our children were dead, killed by their own mother. Penelope had already slashed her wrists and lay dying by their side. I called for a physician and tried to staunch the blood.” He paused. “With her dying breath, she spat in my face.”

Grace closed her eyes as his pain washed over her. It was even worse than she had imagined.

Dear Lord, how had he survived it?

Over the years, she’d heard numerous horror stories, but none could compete with what he’d been through. And he’d suffered it all alone, with no one to help him. No one to care.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her hands over his chest to comfort him.

“I still can’t believe they’re gone,” he whispered, his voice laden with grief. “You asked me what I do while I’m in the book. I just stand there, and remember my son’s and daughter’s faces. I remember what it felt like when their tiny arms wrapped around me. The way they ran out to meet me when I came home from campaigns. And I relive every moment of that day, wishing I could have done something to save them.”

Grace blinked back her tears. No wonder he’d never spoken of it.

Julian drew a deep, tormented breath. “The gods won’t even grant me insanity to escape those memories. I’m not allowed even that much comfort.”

After that, he spoke no more of it, or of anything else. He merely lay quietly in her arms.

Amazed by the strength of him, Grace sat for hours, just holding him. She didn’t know what else to do.

For the first time in years, her therapist’s training failed her completely.

*   *   *

Grace came awake to bright sunlight streaming in through her windows. It took her a full minute before she remembered the night before.

Sitting up, she reached over for Julian and found nothing but an empty bed.

“Julian?” she asked.

No one answered.

Throwing back the covers, she got up and quickly dressed.

“Julian?” she called as she went down the stairs.

Nothing. Not a single sound, other than her heart beating fiercely in her ears.

Panic began to set in. Had something happened to him?

Grace rushed into the living room where the book was lying on the coffee table. Flipping through it, she saw the blank page where Julian had been. Relieved he hadn’t somehow returned to the book, she continued searching the house.

Where was he?

She went to the kitchen and noticed the back door slightly ajar. Her frown deepening, she opened it wider and walked out onto the deck.

Grace looked about the yard until she saw the neighbors’ children sitting on the grass between her house and theirs. But what stunned her most was Julian sitting with them as he showed them a game with rocks and sticks.