Ravaged: An Eternal Guardians Novella (1001 Dark Nights) (16 page)

The sound of metal hitting metal reached Daphne’s ears first. Her heart rate shot up when she realized blades were striking. Her legs pushed into a sprint.

“Daphne,” Sappheire hissed.

But Daphne didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Her heart lurched into her throat.

Breathless, she reached the edge of the ravine and looked down. Ari stood in the bottom of the small, snowy valley, his blade clanging against the dagger of a Sirenum Scorpoli as she lunged and tried to slice him. His arms were a whir of black menace, his blade a violent weapon that beat her back. And though Daphne couldn’t see his eyes, she knew they were black and crazed. Could tell by his jerky motions that he was in that moment where all he craved was blood.

Screams echoed from the other side of the ravine. Daphne’s gaze jerked that way, toward the dozen or so Sirenum Scorpoli sliding down the snowy incline. Her heart rate went stratospheric.

“Holy gods,” Cerek muttered at her side.

She didn’t have time to respond. Before she could look his way, he was over the edge, sliding down the snow, yelling Ari’s name and swinging his blade as he sliced through Zeus’s assassins like paper dolls.

Skyla and Sappheire quickly followed him down into the ravine and joined the fight. She was trained for this very thing, and Daphne knew she should join them, but all she could focus on was getting to Ari. On grounding him before he turned his blade on the wrong person and did something he couldn’t undo.

Dagger gripped tightly in her hand, Daphne slid down the hillside. The sounds of blades slicing through flesh and bone echoed in the small valley, but she shut them out and focused on her target. Twenty yards ahead, Ari arced out with his blade and caught the Siren he’d been fighting across the jugular.

The female hit the rocks with a crack. Blood gurgled from the wound, choking her to death.

“Ari.” Daphne raced up on Ari’s right and gripped his forearm with her free hand as tight as she could. “I’m here, Ari.”

His eyes were a sea of black, as possessed as she’d ever seen them. As if she hadn’t spoken, he jerked his forearm free so he could move on to his next kill, but she knew if that happened, he might attack the wrong person. Frantic to get through to him, she dropped her blade on the rocks at her feet and grabbed on to his arm with both hands.

“Ari, dammit. Look at me.”

Using every bit of strength she had, she jerked him around to face her. His crazed eyes couldn’t seem to focus, skipped everywhere as if looking for the threat. But she held on, not letting go, and said his name over and over again. Until those black pools landed on her eyes. Until the glossiness started to fade. Until his eyes flickered from black to blue and green and back again, telling her he was still in there. That if she didn’t give up, he could come back to her.

“That’s it,” she said softly while the battle continued to rage behind him. “I’m right here. Focus on me, Ari.”

“D-Daphne?”

“Yes, it’s me.” Relief swept through her, stealing her breath, making the muscles in her legs grow weak. “I’m here.”

His familiar, beautiful mismatched eyes skipped over her features. “What the hell are you doing here? I sent you to Olympus where you’d be safe.”

Oh, she’d been so right.

“I’ll never be safe on Olympus. Not when anyone who looks at me can see I’m in love with you. Did you really think I was going to let you do this alone?”

“Do what alo—” He turned to look over the ravine, then froze. “Holy skata.“

Daphne glanced past him, toward Skyla, pulling her arrow out of a dead Sirenum Scorpoli, then to Sappheire, shaking her head at a body on the ground at her feet. Each and every one of Zeus’s assassins who’d come over the side of that ravine was now dead. But Ari’s shock had nothing to do with their victory.

His reaction had only to do with the fact his estranged son was striding right for him with a bloody blade held tightly in his hand.

* * *

Ari tensed. Cerek was exactly as he remembered. Fifty years hadn’t changed the color of his eyes, or the slope of his nose that was so much like his mother’s, or the square cut of his jaw that came directly from Ari. He was just as big as he’d been before, the same height and size as Ari, and his sandy brown hair was just as rumpled as it had always been when he was a kid. Even the small scar on his upper lip, the one he’d gotten when he’d fallen out of that tree, was exactly the same.

But he wasn’t the same. Fifty years had aged him in a way that didn’t show on his face, but reflected deeply in his light-brown eyes. Eyes that were now guarded and filled with disbelief.

Cerek stopped two feet away, his wide-eyed gaze skipping over Ari as if he’d seen a ghost. A splatter of blood was smeared across his cheek. His jacket was torn at the shoulder, and the blade in his hand dripped crimson red droplets onto the dirty snow. But Ari didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t know what the hell he could say to make up for fifty empty years.

“I didn’t think it was true,” Cerek muttered. “I can’t believe it’s you. All these years...”

Ari’s pulse whirred in his ears, and his hands grew damp against his side. He wanted to turn, to run, to disappear, but he couldn’t. Not this time.

Say something, shithead.
Do
something. He’s your son.

He swallowed hard. “Cerek, I—”

The blade in Cerek’s hand clanged against the snowy rocks at their feet. Then he moved so fast, Ari barely had time to brace himself. But instead of the right hook to the jaw Ari deserved, Cerek closed his arms around Ari’s shoulders, pulled him in, and held on tight.

The snow, the ravine, everything seemed to swirl around Ari as he stood still, embraced by his son. He heard Cerek’s voice. Knew the boy was talking to him, but couldn’t make out the words. Except for one. One got through and wedged its way solidly inside that heart he thought he didn’t have.

Pateras.

Every mistake he’d made, every wrong choice over the last fifty years no longer mattered. With tears stinging his eyes, Ari wrapped his arms around his son and hugged him back.

“I’m sorry,” Ari managed, his throat thick with regret. “I shouldn’t have left. I was wrong. I—”

“I don’t care.” Cerek drew back and clasped Ari’s face in both of his big hands. Tears shimmered in Cerek’s eyes as he shook his head. “You’re back. That’s all that matters to me.” A beaming smile pulled at his lips. “You’re back.”

He hugged Ari again, so tight the air felt as if it were squeezed right out of Ari’s lungs. But Ari didn’t care. He didn’t deserve redemption, but his son was offering it, and he wasn’t about to let it pass him by.

Cerek finally let go and swiped his forearm over his eyes. “But you’re an idiot for not contacting us sooner. What the hell were you thinking taking on Zeus’s assassins alone? Good thing Daphne’s smarter than you.”

Daphne...

Ari’s chest warmed at just the thought of her, and he turned quickly, desperate to find her. He didn’t have to look far. She stood off to his right, her hair twisted into a knot on the top of her head, her body covered by slim black leggings, a fitted hip-length jacket, and boots that elongated her legs and reminded him what it felt like to be surrounded only by her. And her eyes, her beautiful, honest, innocent eyes, were focused right on him, shimmering with both love and forgiveness. Two things he didn’t deserve. Two things that were now part of his life, all thanks to her.

He reached for her, slid his arms around her waist, then lifted her off the ground and buried his face in her neck. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Forgive me.”

Her arms closed around his shoulders. “There’s nothing to forgive.” Her breath was warm against his skin, her words the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. “I knew you were just trying to protect me. I’m not stupid.”

He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his mouth or the kiss he pressed against her cheek. “I know you’re not. You’re the smartest female I’ve ever met. Way smarter than me. Even my son knows that.”

Her gemlike eyes sparkled as she eased back and looked up at him. “Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t. No way I ever could.”

“I should have known you were too much of a rat bastard to die,” a male echoed from somewhere close.

The familiar voice ricocheted through Ari’s mind, and he released Daphne just enough so he could turn and glance behind him. Zander, the oldest of the Argonauts and the Guardian Ari had served with the longest, strode across the snow toward him, all blond-headed and Adonis-beautiful, just as he’d been for the last eight hundred years.

Ari let go of Daphne and pushed her a step away, bracing himself for Zander’s legendary rage, just in case. Behind Zander, he spotted other Argonauts, but he didn’t have time to look closely. Because Zander captured him in a tight hug before he could, then slapped a hand on Ari’s shoulder and drew back.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Zander grinned and shook his head, that rage nowhere to be seen. “I fucking missed you man. Holy hell. I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Friends Ari had thought he’d never see again stepped close, hugged him, then let go. Words of happiness echoed around him but he was too dazed to decipher what was said. He recognized his Argonaut brothers—Theron, Demetrius, Gryphon, Phineus, and Titus. Spotted a couple people he’d never met but who were now obviously part of the group—like the blonde holding a Siren’s bow and the guy at her side with dark hair and mischievous eyes. And he saw others still—like Silas and Nick and Daphne and Cerek—people who were familiar. Whose friendly eyes and warm smiles told him that no matter where he’d been or how long he’d been gone, he was home.

Emotions closed his throat, and tears—joyous tears—filled his eyes. Wrapping an arm around Daphne’s shoulder, he pulled her in to his side and smiled. Really smiled. In a way he hadn’t smiled in at least fifty years.

She laughed at something someone said and slid her arm around his waist. But instead of the warmth he expected to feel, a chill slid down his spine and everything inside him came to a screeching halt.

“Ari?” Daphne’s worried voice echoed close but he couldn’t look at her. Because his mind was suddenly focused on only one thing.

“Sirens...”

The world seemed to spin in slow motion. Ari turned and looked up. A Siren stood on the top of the ravine, her venomous gaze pinned on him. She pulled the string of her bow back. The arrow whirred through the air. Screams erupted. Ari lurched to his side. His arm caught Daphne by the waist, and he dragged her to the ground. A grunt echoed from her lips. Opening his eyes, he expecting to see the arrow, zinging toward him, but a body darted in the way.

The arrow struck flesh and bone with a
thwack
. Cerek dropped to the snowy rocks with a crunch only feet away.

No. Ari’s eyes flew wide.
No!
He scrambled from the ground and skidded to Cerek’s side.

“Cerek...”

Someone screamed his name. He looked up just as the Siren on the edge of the ravine pulled another arrow back. Another whir sounded, but this one didn’t come from the Siren’s bow. Just before she released the arrow, a dagger struck her in the throat. Blood spurted from her neck, and the bow fell from her fingers. Her body hit the ground and slid down the side of the ravine.

Ari’s head swiveled to the side, and in a daze, he realized Daphne had thrown the dagger. She rushed to his side, dropped to her knees next to him, and looked down at the blood drenching Cerek’s shirt. “Oh gods.”

Air clogged in Ari’s lungs as he looked back at his son. He had to fix this. Grasping the fabric where it was torn, he ripped Cerek’s shirt open, then wrapped his hand around the arrow and pulled, but it wouldn’t release.

“Ari.” Panic lifted Daphne’s voice. “Ari look.”

His eyes shot to the wound. To the blood that was already drying, and the gray lines streaking outward from the spot where the arrow was embedded into Cerek’s flesh.

Ari placed his hand on the skin near the wound. It was hard. Hard and cold, like stone.

“No.” He focused on his healing power, placed his other hand over Cerek’s chest. Energy gathered beneath his palms, but it wouldn’t permeate Cerek’s skin.

He tried again, but still nothing happened. Voices muttered near him. Feet shuffled. Someone dropped to the ground on Cerek’s other side. But all Ari could see was his son lying in the snow in front of him, his body slowly turning to stone with every inch those lines traveled.

“No.” Ari’s vision blurred. He moved his hands to yet another spot, only his healing powers weren’t getting through. “This can’t be. Someone help us. Someone—”

“
Pateras
.” Cerek’s hand closed over Ari’s on his chest. “Dad,” he said in a weak voice, “it’s okay. Stop.”

Ari stilled his frantic movements and looked at Cerek’s face.

“I’m okay,” Cerek said. “There’s nothing you can do. I’m... You have to let me go.”

“No.” Tears swam in Ari’s vision. He pressed his hands harder against Cerek’s chest but it was already hard and cold.
“No.”

“I’d do it all again for you,” Cerek said, his voice fading. “Promise me...you’ll finish what we started. Promise”—the streaks crept up his neck—“you won’t let our line fail.”

Tears slid down Ari’s cheeks. He’d said those very words to Cerek just before he’d faked his death and disappeared. He’d wanted Cerek to take his place with the Argonauts, to fill the slot meant for his kin as the chosen descendants of Theseus. Never in a million years did he expect to hear his son say the very same words back to him.

“I...I promise,” Ari choked out. “I won’t let our line fail.”

Cerek closed his eyes and drew a shallow breath. “That’s...good. That’s...the way it should b—”

The streaks crept over his chin and up his cheeks, hardening his lips mid-sentence. Ari grasped Cerek’s stone shoulders and screamed “No!” but the streaks spread up his face until his skin cracked and hardened and what life force was left inside him turned to solid stone.

“Holy Hades,” someone muttered.

“Gods Almighty,” someone else said.