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Fear the Darkness Page 4


  really experience her or her environment.

  He wanted her passion. Her life force.

  There might be a way to touch her...

  Arik paused at the thought. It was true that both the Oneroi and Skoti

  could take human form in the mortal realm, but because of their curse, they

  still lacked emotions. So what was the point? They were just as cold and sterile

  and unable to feel in human form as they were in their own god form.

  That wasn’t what he wanted.

  No, he wanted to be human. He wanted feelings and emotions so that he

  could experience her to the fullest extent possible.

  It’s impossible.

  Or was it? They were gods, with god powers. Why should such a thing be

  unattainable?

  Your powers aren’t capable of such. Zeus had made sure of that when he

  punished them for tampering with his dreams.

  Then again, Arik’s weren’t. But there were others whose powers made a

  mockery of his. Gods who could make him human if they willed it.

  Zeus would never concede such a thing—he hated the dream gods too

  much. His children would be too afraid of him to try. But his brothers...

  They were a different matter entirely.

  And Arik knew which one to barter with.

  Hades. The god of the Underworld held no fear of anyone or anything. His

  powers were more than equal to any of the others’, and best of all, he hated the

  other gods as much as they hated him. Because of that, Hades was always open

  to a good bargain, especially if such a bargain would irritate Zeus.

  It was at least worth a shot.

  With Megeara’s niggling emotions retreating from him, Arik flew from

  the Vanishing Isle where most of the dream gods resided and descended

  down, straight into the heart of Hades’ domain. It was dark as night here.

  Dismal. There were no ivory or gold halls like the ones found on Olympus.

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  At least not until one visited the Elysian Fields, where good souls were sent

  to live out their eternity in paradise. Those lucky enough to attain residence

  there had any- and everything their hearts conceived of. They could even be

  reincarnated should they choose it.

  But the Elysian Fields were only part of a much vaster realm. One that

  held nothing but misery for those who were damned to it. Especially this time

  of year. Three months ago the god’s beloved wife, Persephone, had been sent

  to live with her mother in the upper realm. Until Persephone’s return, Hades

  would be literally hell to deal with. From the moment she left until her return,

  he would spend his time torturing all those around him.

  A saner god would wait to try to deal with Hades after Persephone’s

  return, when he was more reasonable, but Arik was desperate. The last thing

  he wanted was to take a chance on another Skotos finding Megeara.

  No, it was now or never.

  Besides, Arik had never been a coward. He’d never once retreated from

  battle or conflict. It was what had made him one of the best of the Oneroi and

  what had made him one of the deadliest Skoti.

  He always took what he wanted. Damned be the consequences. He had

  eternity to deal with those. What mattered most was the present, and that was

  what he focused on. Always.

  As he flew past Cerberus, the three-headed dog rose up to bark at him.

  Ignoring it, he dove down into the catacombs made of the skulls and bones

  of Hades’ enemies. Many of whom had been Titans and ancients who’d

  had the misfortune of irritating the somber god—they didn’t even warrant

  Hades torturing them for eternity. He’d relegated them to nothing more than

  decoration.

  That alone should be a warning to Arik...

  But the brave and the desperate never heeded such.

  Arik slowed his flight as he entered the main chamber of Hades’ domain.

  This was the only room in Hades’ opulent palace that was open to outsid-

  ers....But there was a lot more to his home than this one room.

  Arik knew that because no one was immune to the powers of a Dream-

  Hunter. No one. All gods were vulnerable whenever they rested, which was

  why they feared the Dream-Hunters so, and it was times such as those that

  Arik had ventured here to see what Hades kept so secret.

  Now Arik faded to invisibility and rose up toward the black ceiling that

  glittered eerily in the dim light. Hades sat below, alone, on his throne. Made

  of Titan bones, his black throne had been polished until it gleamed like steel.

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  Hard and intimidating as the god had intended, it dominated the dais where

  it sat. Beside it was a much smaller chair. One made of gold and cushioned

  with pillows the color of blood. It was where Persephone sat whenever she

  was home with her husband.

  Hades stared at her throne with a look of such longing that Arik could

  almost feel his grief. And it wasn’t until Hades moved that Arik realized the

  god held a small, delicate fan in his hand. One made of lace and ivory.

  Closing his eyes, Hades held it to his nose and gently inhaled the scent.

  Then he cursed and tossed the fan back to the throne by his side.

  A heartbeat later, he got up to retrieve it and place it more carefully in a

  small holder on the right arm. Obviously that was where Persephone kept it.

  Hades froze and cocked his head as if he was listening for something.

  “Who dares to enter my hall without summons?”

  Arik lowered himself to the floor and materialized. “I do.”

  The god turned about slowly and narrowed his amber eyes on Arik. “What

  brings you here, son of Morpheus?”

  There was no need to hide what he wanted. “I would like to bargain

  with you.”

  “For what?”

  “I wish to be human.”

  Hades’ evil laughter rang out in the hollow hall, echoing around them. “You

  know how to be human, Skotos. Stop eating ambrosia and drinking nectar.”

  “That would only make me mortal and I don’t want to die. I want to feel,

  and for that I need to be a human and not a god.”

  Hades approached him slowly until he stood just before Arik. “Feel? Why

  would anyone in their right mind wish for that? Feelings are for fools.”

  Arik glanced to the fan. “Even you?”

  Hades bellowed in rage as he flung out his hand and pinned Arik against

  the wall with his powers. The jagged bones bit into Arik’s back, tearing the

  fabric of his clothes.

  Arik fought the hold, but there was nothing he could do at the moment

  except bleed.

  “For a god who doesn’t wish to die, you speak of things you’d best

  not address.”

  The force holding him receded so fast that he barely had time to recover

  himself before he fell. He hovered over the floor for a heartbeat until he placed

  his feet on the ground.

  Hades raised his brows in surprise. “You’re faster than most.”

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  “And in my realm, I’m capable of even more feats.”

  “What are you saying?”

&
nbsp; Arik shrugged. “Only that a god of such power should be careful. Even the

  great Hades has to sleep sometime.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “I’m only stating a fact.” Arik looked pointedly at Persephone’s throne.

  “And reminding you, my lord, that there’s nothing worse than allowing a Sko-

  tos to know of a weakness.”

  Hades narrowed his eyes before he again broke out into laughter. “It’s been

  a long time since anyone dared such boldness in my presence. Look around you,

  Skotos. Do you not see the remains of the people who have pissed me off?”

  “My name is Arik and I see everything, including the beauty and comfort

  of the palace you hide behind this facade of death. But in turn, I would ask

  you what good does it do to threaten someone who can’t feel fear?”

  Hades inclined his head. “Point well taken. So tell me...Arik, what bar-

  gain do you wish to propose?”

  “I want to live in the realm of the humans as one of them.”

  Hades tsked at his request. “That’s not so easy to attain, dear boy. No

  Olympus-born god can live on earth for very long.”

  “But we can live there for a time. I would go there now, but there would

  be no point, since I could only witness what’s around me and not experience

  it. It’s the experience I want.”

  “What good is this experience when you’ll only forget it once you return?”

  What the god didn’t know was that Arik wouldn’t forget. He’d remember

  and he wanted that memory. Unlike M’Ordant and many of the others, Arik

  had no knowledge of true emotions or sensations—they’d been beaten out

  of him so long ago that he’d completely forgotten what it was like to feel. He

  wanted to know how much more intense feelings could be when not blocked

  by the curse.

  “Does the why really matter?”

  Hades considered that for a moment. Folding his arms over his chest, he

  frowned at Arik. “For what you want, there would have to be a steep price.”

  “I expected nothing less. Just tell me your fee.”

  “A soul. A human soul.”

  That was easy enough. Taking a human life wouldn’t bother him. They

  lived finitely anyway and very few of them even bothered to appreciate the

  beauty that was the human existence. He, however, would savor his brief time

  as one of them. “Done.”

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  Hades clucked his tongue at Arik. “Child, how naive of you. You agreed

  too soon. It’s not just any soul I want.”

  “Whose then?”

  “I want the soul of the woman who has compelled you to make a deal

  with the devil. Surely she must have a magnificent soul for you to come here

  and barter with me, the most despised of all gods.”

  Arik hesitated. Not out of feelings for Megeara but rather because he

  wasn’t sure he would be through with her by the time he was forced to return.

  “And if I fail to complete this bargain?”

  “It will be you who suffers here in her stead. If you fail to deliver her to

  me, I will kill you as a man and keep your soul in Tartarus. The pain you’ve

  felt to date will be nothing when compared to what you’ll suffer then. And

  before you reconsider, remember that you’ve already agreed to this. There is

  no going back now. Our bargain is set.”

  “How long will you give me?”

  “Two weeks and not a day more.”

  Arik had no time to even twitch before a strange thick blackness covered

  him. One moment he was standing in the middle of Hades’ throne room, and

  in the next he was encircled by wetness.

  It was water...

  And unlike in dreams, his body was heavy. Leaden. Water poured in

  through his mouth and nose, causing him to choke as it invaded lungs that

  weren’t used to really breathing. He tried to swim, but the water was too thick.

  It seemed to be sucking him down deeper into the sea.

  Panic consumed him. There was nothing he could do.

  He was going to drown.

  “Geary, quick! There’s a body overboard!”

  Oh good God, who had Thia attacked now?

  Aggravated, Geary looked up from Tory’s notes at Justina’s call. Geary’s

  second in command was pointing over the side of the boat. As Geary rushed

  to the side to peer over, she handed the notebook back to Tory. Sure enough,

  there was someone struggling in the waves. And by the looks of it, he was

  quickly losing his battle.

  “Christof!” Geary shouted for the boat’s captain. “We need...” She paused

  as the body sank down below the hungry waves.

  There wasn’t time.

  Her heart pounding from the rush of adrenaline, Geary kicked her shoes

  off and dove over the side. The coldness of the water stunned her as it covered

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  her completely. Kicking her legs, she swam upward until she broke the surface

  so that she could look about for him.

  Even though the water was clear, Geary had a hard time finding the guy

  below the surface. She had to keep diving down, then returning for fresh air

  before she dove back to search for him. Thank God she was a strong swimmer

  who was trained as a lifeguard and a certified diving instructor. But then, it

  was expected of her as an underwater recovery expert. She had to be as nimble

  in water as a fish.

  She just wished she’d had time to get her gear before she’d come in after

  him. If she didn’t find the guy soon, he’d be dead, especially since he hadn’t

  resurfaced.

  Her lungs burned from holding her breath as she dove under the water

  again. Her ears were buzzing and popping from the pressure as images of him

  drowning consumed her.

  Geary had been twelve years old when Tory’s father had drowned only

  a few miles from this very spot. Images of her father trying to save Theron’s

  life tore through her now as she remembered her father diving for him. Her

  father pulling Theron out of the water and doing everything he could to

  resuscitate him.

  It’d been awful and the last thing she wanted to do was relive it.

  C’mon. Don’t you dare die on me. Where are you? She slowed her speed

  and turned about as she floated weightlessly in the sea. The light refracted and

  danced in the blue and green water, highlighting various fish and foliage, but

  there was no sight of the man she sought.

  “Look down.”

  She frowned at the foreign voice in her head, not understanding the

  source of it, but she couldn’t help obeying it. Looking down, she spotted him

  just below her. Even though he was trying to swim, he was sinking fast....

  His long black hair danced in the water as bubbles floated around him

  and he waved his arms and legs to no avail.

  Relieved she’d found him but scared it might be too late, she headed for

  him as fast as she could. She came up behind him, then pulled his large body

  against hers and kicked them toward the surface.

  Good grief! The man was huge and made of solid muscle. With next to

  no fat on him, he was like an anchor in the water. It took a great deal of effort
>
  to get them to the surface.

  By the time they broke through, both of them were sputtering and

  coughing.

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  “Hold on,” she said to him. “I’ve got you.” Even so, she half-expected him

  to fight against her. Most drowning victims did.

  But not him. He went limp against her as if he trusted her completely.

  Justina and Teddy were in the water already with a life preserver. Together,

  they got the man into the harness and had him hauled on board, then they

  followed suit.

  By the time Geary was on board the Simi again, she saw the unknown

  man lying on the deck, covered with a blanket, while Thia was giving him

  mouth-to-mouth. Geary couldn’t see the man’s face for Thia.

  “Is he dead?” Geary asked, rushing over to them as worry tore at her.

  Just as she reached his side, the man coughed up a gallon of seawater.

  Gasping, he turned quickly to his side and started hacking and wheezing while

  Thia pounded him on the back to help him clear his lungs. His slick wet skin

  was completely bronzed and perfect, except for the deep welts that marred his

  back. The scars were old, but even so they were prominent enough to let Geary

  know how much they must have hurt when he received them. It reminded her

  of the way sailors were beaten for punishment back in the old days.

  Why would a modern man have such scarring? Who would have beaten

  him like that and why?

  And he wore nothing except a thin pair of long white pants that were

  plastered against his perfect body...and they showed absolutely everything,

  right down to his religion and the fact that this man had been rather gifted in

  a certain department.

  He might as well be naked.

  “Now there’s a man who doesn’t believe in underwear, huh?” Justina said

  in a low tone for only Geary’s hearing as she wrung out her hair. “Not that

  I’m not grateful for it. He has the nicest ass on the planet. No wonder Thia

  grabbed him for resuscitation. I wouldn’t mind a little mouth-to-mouth

  action with that body, either.”

  While Geary pretty much agreed with those sentiments, she didn’t com-

  ment as Tory draped a blanket around her shoulders.

  “Hell of a fish you found there,” Christof said as he brought more blan-

  kets for them. He gave one to Justina and Teddy.