Sherrilyn Kenyon - Dark Bites

Damn it!

Aricles dashed to the fence to grab a long wooden stake and his brother’s xiphos. Using the stake as a javelin, he threw it at the demon closest to reaching his father who was running back toward him while the demon flapped its massive wings and licked its black lips. The stake struck the demon in the center of its chest. The demon fell to the ground with an echoing shriek as it died.

As fast as he could, he crossed the field to fight back the remaining six. By the looks of them, they were Charonte – one of the fiercest of the demon breeds. And unfortunately, humans and Atlanteans were their food of choice.

Aricles dodged their foul claws and managed to avoid their fangs as he fought them with everything he had. Sad for the demons that he shared his brother’s fighting prowess. He might not enjoy swordplay and killing, but he was damn good at it. Within a handful of minutes, he had the demons lying in pieces on the ground.

The sight of their remains sickened him, as did the blood on his hands and body.

His father embraced him. “Thank the gods you were here.”

“Thank Galen for leaving his xiphos behind while he went to wash.” Aricles grimaced in distaste. “And speaking of, I’ll be back to help with their carcasses as soon as I clean up.”

Repulsed by the needless waste, he headed for the stream that ran through the middle of their property.

He’d just begun washing himself when a bright light flashed in front of him. Grabbing Galen’s sword, he hesitated as he saw a beautiful woman in a long white peplos, and a man dressed in black.

“Rest easy.” The man held his hands out to show that he wasn’t here to battle. “We just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes.”

Aricles lowered the sword, but kept it in his hand. “About?”

“I would like to recruit you.” The woman’s voice was soft and melodic. Soothing. A perfect match for her tall, ethereal beauty.

“For?”

The man laughed. “You’re not one to waste words, are you?”

“Malphas,” the woman chided. “You’re not helping.”

“Forgive me, goddess.”

Goddess…

Now her beauty made total sense. But what would one of them want with a simple farmer? He couldn’t fathom it.

Bathymaas studied the man in the stream. Tall and well muscled, he looked as fierce washing as he had fighting Malphas’s demons. His reddish-brown hair was cropped short in back and longer in front. And while he was very handsome, it was his intelligent blue eyes that were searing. “Are you aware of the war that has broken out, Atlantean?”

He frowned. “What war?”

Malphas crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you familiar with the term ‘Chthonian’?”

Aricles shook his head.

It was the goddess who explained. “They are a handful of humans, Atlanteans, or Apollites who are born with the powers of a god so that they can protect their people from the gods who would abuse or take advantage of them. Each is endowed with the ability to slay a god and not upset the order of the universe or destroy it. But for every god they kill, they lose a degree of their own power. If they slay too many gods, they die.”

“And unfortunately, they got crossed up and have been going at each other’s throats for almost a year now.”

The goddess nodded. “There is no one who can protect their peoples while they war, and certain groups are taking advantage of their lax attention to prey on innocents. That is why I’m assembling a team that can temporarily take over their protection duties until the Chthonians come to their senses.”

Aricles narrowed his eyes as he understood why they were here. “You want me to fight for you?”

“Yes.”

Aricles laughed at the very idea. “No, thank you. I’m not a soldier. I’m a farmer.”

Malphas snorted. “Then why were you in an arena fight two days ago?”

“I wasn’t. You saw my brother.”

“That was your brother?” Malphas asked suspiciously.

“Yes. Galenus. I am Aricles.”

Malphas looked even more confused. “But you’re the one who fought off the demons just now.”

He shrugged. “Galen and I learned and practiced together. But he’s the one who loves the xiphos, not me.”

Malphas smiled at the goddess. “I think we found our last two.”

Aricles shook his head. “No, you haven’t.”

Malphas stepped forward, but the goddess stopped him.

“Go find this Galenus and ask him to join us. I want to speak to Aricles alone.”

“Yes, my goddess.” Malphas vanished without question.

Aricles left the stream and dried himself with the towel he’d left on the bank. “If you think you can change my mind, my lady… you can’t. I want nothing to do with war.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Diafonia, Apollymi, Symfora…” He named all the warring goddesses of the Atlantean pantheon. “None of it matters to me.”

“I am Bathymaas, the embodiment of all justice. My role in this world is simple – to maintain the balance between right and wrong. To hold it sacred and make sure that neither side squashes the other. I’m sure you can respect that.”

“I can.”

“Then fight for me.”

Shaking his head, he started past her.

She placed a gentle hand on his arm to stop him. “Please, Aricles. The gods have given you an amazing gift and skill. Who better to wield a xiphos for me than a man who takes no love or glory of war? Unlike others, you won’t fight for the sake of it, but for the right reasons.”

He wanted to say no to her. But as he looked into those green-tinged, golden eyes and felt the warmth of her hand on his flesh, he lost himself to her wiles. The saddest part? She wasn’t even using them on him.

And still he wanted to bury his face against her hair and inhale the sweet scent of her. He’d never been so drawn to any woman. Not even Claudia.

She’s not a woman.

No, she was a goddess.

And he was nothing more than a simple, backwoods farmer.

“So what say you, good Aricles? Will you represent your people and be a champion for me for the good of all?”

He wanted to say no. Desperately. But his heart locked down his common sense as a desire to make the goddess smile answered for him. “Who am I to fight the will of the gods?”

“Aricles! You’ll never guess what…” Galen’s words faded as he broke through the trees to see Bathymaas with him. He arched a curious brow.

Bathymaas turned toward Galen, but didn’t react physically. “You’re twins.”

Aricles gave her a wry grin. “Since birth.”

Malphas laughed, but Bathymaas’s expression didn’t change at all. “You’ll have to forgive the goddess. She doesn’t understand humor, or any emotion, for that matter.”

Those words shocked him. “Truly?”

Bathymaas nodded. “Now, if you’ll collect your things, we will take you to your new home.”

Galen let out a jubilant shout while Aricles cringed. His father wouldn’t be happy with this, he knew it, and when they returned to the small stone cottage where they’d been born, he was proven right.

“I won’t have it!” their father snarled while they packed their meager belongings. “I need at least one of you here.”

“Father,” Galen breathed. “You don’t understand what an honor this is. We were hand-selected by the goddess herself. We have to honor the gods and their will, is that not what you’ve always taught us?”

Their father turned tormented blue eyes to Aricles, imploring him to stay.

“I can keep Galen safe so long as I’m with him. I’ll make sure he comes home to you in one piece.”

His father cradled the back of Aricles’s head in his hand and pulled him into his embrace. “My sons are all I have in this world. I could not bear to live if I lost one of you.”