Authors: Deidre Knight
Tags: #Man-woman relationships, #Goddesses, #Gods, #Paranormal, #Delphian oracle, #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal romance stories, #Immortalism, #Daphne (Greek deity), #General, #Leonidas, #Contemporary
Red Mortal (29 page)
Apollo made a great show of unfolding an extremely large dinner napkin over his lap; everything in his world was oversized to the extreme. He glanced up at Daphne, reaching for yet one more bread roll. “So let us talk. Ares has revoked Leonidas’s immortality, has he?”
Daphne swallowed, and for some reason wanted to weep. It was something about how warm and solid Apollo was; just being here, in his presence, made her believe that Leo would be saved. “He’s aged . . . a bit,” she admitted, intentionally fixing her eyes on the god and not Leo.
Leo laughed darkly beside her. “My bride-to-be understates my case so sweetly. I’ve added at least a decade to my years at this point. We managed to briefly set back Ares’s plan when one of my immortals gave me a power boost, but I’ve regained all those years . . . and then some.” Leo ran fingers through his curls, seeming a bit self-conscious. He’d not asked her in the past few hours about his appearance, but she had no doubt that he wondered how old he now looked.
“It’s no more than a decade, Leo,” she reassured him. “But the process must be stopped. It’s why we’ve come, Lord Apollo.”
The god leaned back in his oversized chair. “So, Daphne, your brother”—he paused, bathing one of his dinner rolls in a sweep of soft butter—“is a pain in my Olympian behind, to put it more politely than I’d like . . . a bur in my epic drawers.” Apollo glanced at Leo, incredulous. “How in Hades did you ever manage to abide him for so long?”
Leo scowled. “There’s a reason we’re in this predicament today—in short? I couldn’t endure him for another moment. I took a stand against him and that, along with . . . other things, landed me on his bad side.”
“Ah,
yes
,” Apollo bellowed with an appreciative smile. “The sweet taste of rebellion when the sovereign is a nasty sort.” He cast a quick glance at Daphne. “The bugger’s gone too far this time, and it won’t be tolerated. He knows the rules when it comes to my Daughters, and I’m sick of his arguing with me.” Apollo rolled his eyes, his deep voice becoming a whiny falsetto. “
She’s my sister
. . . This is what he tells me.
She’s my own blood, not your daughter . . .”
yes
,” Apollo bellowed with an appreciative smile. “The sweet taste of rebellion when the sovereign is a nasty sort.” He cast a quick glance at Daphne. “The bugger’s gone too far this time, and it won’t be tolerated. He knows the rules when it comes to my Daughters, and I’m sick of his arguing with me.” Apollo rolled his eyes, his deep voice becoming a whiny falsetto. “
She’s my sister
. . . This is what he tells me.
She’s my own blood, not your daughter . . .”
Again, the god rolled his eyes, and then took a huge bite out of his bread, consuming more than half of it with one healthy mouthful. He stabbed his butter knife in their direction, making a point. “I’m stronger and more powerful than he is,” he said. “And he’s challenged my patience for far too long. I comprehended everything the moment you appeared on my lawn—exactly what he’s done to Leonidas, how he’s tormenting you both.” Apollo tossed his head back and growled like a bear, then began work on a second roll, buttering it as he lifted it to his lips. “So we need to talk about how to combat his foulness.”
Daphne could only listen. The god boomed and talked—and ate—for several minutes, barely pausing for a breath. But his revelations were invaluable, as was the offer of assistance he easily made.
Apollo flung a thick arm along the back of the empty chair beside him. “You must inventory Ares’s weaknesses because the only way a god of his stature can be beaten, truly, is if he does the deed himself.”
Leo leaned forward. “I don’t follow.”
Apollo dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “You’ve got to lay a trap, one he’ll spring himself. And trust me; Ares loves his snares, so you must be smart about it, lest he sniff out the plan. So, the thing is,” he said, “your strategy must be an intricate one that Ares won’t recognize. This is why, ultimately, you must use his own nature to defeat him. His own flaws shall form the noose.”
Apollo lifted a hand and with thick fingers, began to tick off Ares’s weaknesses. “His vanity . . . his insatiable bloodlust . . . his own son Eros, who represents everything that Ares despises”—Apollo held three fingers up, then very quickly counted off more—“and his vanity, vanity, vanity, vanity.”
The god sank back in his chair, rubbing his belly. “Your trap? It must combine all three of those weaknesses if it’s to be truly effective. Make war with war, as it were.” Apollo grew subdued for the first time since their arrival. “Something that I, unfortunately, cannot do on your behalf. I’d certainly enjoy it, but my hands are tied by the laws of Olympus, which forbid me from warring against Ares. But someone
else
, here in our midst, can take him on, and far more effectively than I ever could.” Apollo turned his black eyes on Leo, smiling slyly. “But you must meet kind with like kind, King Leonidas.”
else
, here in our midst, can take him on, and far more effectively than I ever could.” Apollo turned his black eyes on Leo, smiling slyly. “But you must meet kind with like kind, King Leonidas.”
Daphne scraped a hand over her tired eyes. More riddles, more questions.
Meet kind with like kind?
What did that even mean?
Meet kind with like kind?
What did that even mean?
Leo spoke. “Consider how he’s bested us in the past, the methods he’s used, and then contrive to bring him to that very battlefield?”
“Yes! Precisely, King Leonidas!” Apollo looked imminently pleased. “Consider your strategy well, then make your attack.”
Leo shoved back from the table, setting his napkin aside. He sat there, quiet and contemplative. “With Ares, it’s always been about the underworld,” he said softly. “Demons. Darkness. That’s why it’s been such a coup to win a Djinn, Sable, to our side.”
Apollo groaned. “Be forewarned, Ares has a particular distaste for turncoats—as you can plainly see in your own case. And an equally ugly habit of turning them
back
to his side.”
back
to his side.”
“I will never serve him again,” Leo said in a lethally low voice.
“I wasn’t thinking of you, but this Sable you mention. If he’s a demon who was once in Ares’s service . . . well, he may have the best of intentions, but can’t be trusted completely.”
Daphne didn’t like that—they’d just placed important faith in Sable tonight, lives in his hands. But there wasn’t time to think about it.
Leo stood, leaving the table, and paced. He was deep in thought, and she could see his intelligent, quick calculations; his eyes flicked back and forth, gazing at some unseen battlefield, perhaps. Measuring an invisible enemy.
After a quiet moment, he spun to face them both, chin held high. “I must raise an army, but not just my Spartans and the Shades. As you say, Lord Apollo, we must meet ‘kind with like kind.’ I need an army of the underworld.”
Leo planted both hands on the table, his eyes level with theirs. “A demon army. A month or two ago, I’d have had no more clue about doing such a thing than arranging these utensils into a battalion.” Leo took his silverware, lining them into a formation on the table. “No longer. We have a secret weapon now.” He plunked down a gravy boat at the head of the fork and knife and spoon. “We have Sable; his obvious love for Sophie makes him someone we can trust. He can lead us into the underworld, or at the very least help us organize a ragtag group of demons . . . Sable can’t be the only fiend that Ares has long abused.”
Apollo took a long drag directly from a carafe of wine. “You listen and learn well, brave Leonidas. No wonder history loves you well.”
“You inspire well, Apollo.” Leo sat back down at the table, and the god slid him the container of wine. “Drink up, the battle lies ahead.”
Leo shook his head. “My work’s cut out for me, and time is of the essence. I must get to Sable as soon as possible.”
Daphne disagreed. “We aren’t done here. Apollo, he needs mending, his knee . . . can you help?”
“I am the god of healing, of course.” Apollo resumed eating. “But first, we must finish our spread.” He waved down the server, who was eagerly depositing more meat, and managed to lay his hands on a leg of lamb. “King Leonidas, I’m as aware of your worldly myths as humans are the Olympian ones,” he said between bites. “I’ve heard tales that you are a direct descent of Olympus’s own Heracles.”
Leo barely hid a blush. “Only a fable, circulated by my loyal people.”
“But many rumors have their source in fact.” The god’s onyx eyes gleamed, and he slid his gaze to Daphne. Something in that keen look—from god to demigoddess—brought so many things into sharp focus.
Suddenly she saw the truth, an unexpected connection between Apollo and Leo. The similarity in their robust builds, the sameness to their dark, unconventionally handsome looks. Her own bizarre shyness whenever she’d been around Apollo—the same sort of timidity she’d first felt with Leo that day on his moors, and before that, long ago in Hades when they’d initially met. Maybe she’d been shy with Apollo because, on some level, she recognized Leo in his olive-skinned countenance.
“Leonidas,” Apollo announced. “You do have the blood of gods in your veins.”
Leo jerked his gaze upward, meeting the god’s pointed stare. He said nothing, simply waited for Apollo to reveal more.
Daphne grabbed hold of Leo’s hand. “See? My father
will
have to welcome you!”
will
have to welcome you!”
Leo’s lips thinned out, but he continued to remain silent, waiting for Apollo to reveal more.
Apparently, Apollo found Leo’s reticence highly amusing, because he tossed his head back and rumbled with laughter. “Only a leader like you, good king.” He slapped a hearty hand against the table. “Any other human would’ve been begging me to state my meaning, but you have far too much discipline for that. And too much humility.”
Leo inclined his head. “I did not want to be presumptuous . . . or arrogant like a certain god we know.”
Apollo chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Hardly a chance. But I’ll speak plainly. There’s a bit of my blood in your veins, Leonidas. I knew it the moment you first set foot on my land. It’s distant, generations removed, and I’m afraid”—Apollo stabbed at one of his puddings, averting his eyes—“there was a time when I was most indiscriminate with my seed. So I can’t say how, or who, or when . . . but even if I didn’t have my god’s insight, one look at you and anyone could see the physical resemblance. I’m bigger, broader, true, but the similarities are undeniable.”
“I’d been thinking the exact same thing,” Daphne agreed, trying to comprehend the full implications. “But Leo’s not a demigod.”
“Not even close.” Apollo gave Leo a downright apologetic smile, and then turned back to Daphne. “But he does have some extra power—witness his spectacular military career, his indomitable feats of bravery in ancient Sparta. I suspect Ares recognized the Olympian strain in your king’s blood, and that’s part of why he made the offer of immortality in the first place. It was a strength he could capitalize on, manipulate.”
“But Leo looks so much like you,” Daphne argued, wishing that somehow Leo might possess stronger Olympian heritage. It could help him, save him. “Surely the connection is closer than you suggest.”
Apollo nodded gently, seeming to understand Daphne’s grasping hope. “Sorry, little Daughter. It’s been many thousands of years since I’ve gone out among mortals and . . .” He coughed into his hand. “Uh . . . cavorted that way. My seed simply runs strong. Generations pass and the traits don’t dilute. Which means your sons, darling Daphne, will probably resemble me.” He thumped his thick chest proudly. “Which is fitting, just as I said when you arrived, that you and Leonidas should join.”
Sons. If Leo lived beyond the next few days—if they even had a life together. She bowed her head, battling tears. “How can he use that heritage? Is there some way?”
She heard heavy footsteps, and suddenly Apollo’s hand cradled her chin. “Daphne, yes, it can be used. That’s why I told you of it.” He stroked her cheek very kindly. “You must stay strong. Your brother smells weakness like a shark scents blood, you know it.”
Daphne looked up into Apollo’s eyes, blinking back tears. He scowled furiously. “He’s hurt you, and I will do everything in my power to stop that.”
Right then, one of Apollo’s servants came running into the room, frenetic. “My lord,” she cried, glancing over her shoulder, “we can’t stop him. He’s insisting . . .”
“And so he has come.” Apollo braced his shoulders, planting himself in front of Daphne like a massive live oak. Leo reached out for her and stood, too, so that both males shielded her. It was obvious who “he” was, and just as obvious that Ares wasn’t interested in her—so why was Leo protecting her?
She slid out of her chair, and to her feet, and Leo worked her behind him again.
“You’re the one Ares is after!” she cried, holding on to him from behind.
“And you’re the one this battle is really about.” She flinched, pained to hear him state so bluntly what she never wanted to put in words.
She couldn’t see past the two large men, but she heard the moment her brother entered the room. “Oh, how quaint. A light luncheon on Olympus,” Ares sneered. “Save any morsels for me, portly Apollo? I realize you don’t possess the restraint, not with your appetites.”
“I’m sure I could round up a few rotten quail eggs,” Apollo replied coolly. “Shall I have them poached for you?”
“Save them for your breakfast. I’m not a natural-born glutton like you.” Ares grunted. “I’ll get to the point. I’m here to claim my sister.”
Judging by the ear-shattering roar that answered, Apollo would have none of that. The god’s gentle, calm restraint had given way to ferociousness. “Out!” Apollo thundered. “Now, Ares!
Out
.” She could hear scuffling footsteps, as if the gods were struggling. Leo shielded Daphne with his body still, keeping her nestled behind his back and out of her brother’s sight.
Out
.” She could hear scuffling footsteps, as if the gods were struggling. Leo shielded Daphne with his body still, keeping her nestled behind his back and out of her brother’s sight.
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