Page 23 of Immortal Sun (Dark Olympus)

CHAPTER 23

M an, know yourself… and you shalt know the gods. —Egyptian Proverb

CYRUS

“Where’s Bast?” I ask Enki as he types furiously on his phone. He’s taking notes for what’s to come and probably can guess what I’m going to say before I even say it.

He sighs heavily. “How would I know? He disappears all the time. You know he has his own weird rituals. He’ll show up when or if he’s needed.”

An eerie feeling washes over me. I don’t necessarily feel anything except for curiosity at why Bast isn’t in the house, why Cow won’t leave the tree, and why Rat refuses to look at me.

I’m not concerned.

I don’t feel.

It’s more like an equation I can’t solve which, yes frustrating, doesn’t cause me to back down from the schedule Enki has.

“Ten days.” I nod. “I think ten days is sufficient for her. In the meantime, I’ll take her to the festival and scare her a bit, then do the usual for the eclipse.”

“And Jake?” he asks in a bored tone. “He curses you on a daily basis. Even the dragon’s getting annoyed, and you know how Damon can be. His fire likes to melt the ice in that realm, which then makes the ice get angry and we don’t need another war on our hands.”

I chuckle. “But that was entertaining. Wasn’t he going through his Game of Thrones phase then?”

Enki rolls his eyes. “Have I told you how wonderful it is that you have no heart again?”

“And yet I still have a sense of humor. Immortals are weird.”

He gets up and straightens his gray jacket. “If that’s all. I’ll just get going.”

Something twists in my chest. I’m probably just annoyed. “Yes. Do that.”

He walks off, black boots hitting against the slabbed marble floor, and then the door slams behind him.

Always a joy dealing with him when he’s in a mood.

And my house is instantly lonely. Dark. Sad.

I recognize it for what it is, but I don’t feel anything. It’s like observing someone living their life but having no empathy for what they’re actually experiencing.

I made the right choice. I know that now. If she was sitting in the corner in the past I would have been tempted, but right now I just feel nothingness. I feel like I have a purpose again, to sacrifice, to save and if that means it’s her, then so be it.

I look down at my black T-shirt and jeans and laugh, so different from what I used to wear, so different from my armor, and then I walk down the stairs, letting the breeze hit me in the face.

I hear Rat yelling obscenities at me and smile.

He can say whatever he wants, but this is happening, and time is ticking. I glance over my shoulder as another tally mark appears on the tree, another leaf falls.

Time has left her, now all time has…is me.

I reach the beach, walk toward the mouth of the cave, and stumble.

The cat’s in the bed.

And Cleo’s in the corner sleeping on the cold hard ground.

The cat transformed, likely to protect her now that things have escalated and she has a death sentence over her head, and that probably made things worse.

It’s almost amusing.

Bast is guarding her, and she probably thinks he’s seconds away from devouring her.

There will only be one devouring. Me.

I wave my hand across the front of the cave and walk in.

Cleo jolts awake.

Dirt coats her cheeks, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. She’s in jeans and a white T-shirt. She’s also wearing Converse like she’s twelve.

My past self might say she looks stunning even now, but she’s nothing to me aside from a means to an end. The feeling in my chest is foreign like it wants to want her. I shut it down immediately.

“Sleep well?” I cross my arms.

She glares. “What the hell is wrong with you? This is illegal!”

“I’m above the law.” I shrug. “Some might say I am the law and always have been, but you’re welcome to run to the police… Oh wait!” I snap my fingers. “You can’t escape without my help, and even if you did, you’d be caught. And even if, by the slightest chance, you did make it to the police station, Daggon would just bring you back.”

“You’re a monster!” She screams, jumping to her feet. It’s odd how she isn’t even afraid of me when she should be petrified. Is she more scared of the cat that turned into a panther?

I can at least respect that.

I like the scream, even with a heart that’s cold as ice. That’s what Kratos did, turned my heart to ice. I can’t feel love. It was the only choice I had left. I felt her bell like it was synced to my heart, I felt her. To feel means you can’t kill, to feel means you lose. I will not lose.

Any sort of love that could have somehow sprouted for this tiny individual is gone, and good riddance. Gods, it feels good to be free.

“Have you done your homework?” I ask, ignoring her outburst and walking toward her.

A tear slides down her cheek. How pathetic. It hits the ground to where she will return. I almost bend over and touch it in curiosity. What would it be like to cry so often? To be so weak?

People used to bow in my presence; this one yells and lets her tears decide her emotions.

We’ve gone backwards. Irritating, to say the least.

I lift her chin so she’s forced to look into my eyes, I show her my storm, I show her the flames as they lick toward the sky.

Her eyes glaze over.

“Your homework,” I press. “Is it done yet?”

“I had to sleep,” she whispers in a low voice that probably would have sent shivers down my spine had I not been frozen. The fact that I’m even aware of that makes me pause.

I get up and turn away, staring at the cave wall. “You have five days before the festival, where I’ll show you why you have to die. I need you to prepare yourself, and I need you to finish this. We’re running out of time, which is another story entirely. Finish your duty, get your name in the book.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that, writing my own obituary.”

I smile. “Yes. You do that.”

“Have you always been a monster?” She hugs herself, her breasts pressing tightly against her flimsy white T-shirt.

I may have lost my ability to love, but I most definitely have not lost my ability to seduce, which, I realize, is exactly what I need to do in order to prepare her for what’s to come.

My dick hardens at a rapid pace just staring at her.

Everyone knows I’ve never slept with a human.

I’ve never created that way. And I’ve never been curious enough to try.

It’s only ever been from the earth and sun, but it’s tempting with this one. It would feel so good to sink into her, to bite down her soft neck and hold her across that mattress, driving into her with a burning need.

I shake myself out of it and answer. “Monster? I’m the savior of the world.”

And of myself.

She laughs and walks in a small circle in the dirt. “Wow, really? This is how heroes work? Trapping girls in a tiny cave, making them write their own death sentences? Disney totally has it wrong, then!”

“They always do,” I say softly. At her annoyed expression, I yell, “Sacrifices always have to be made for the greater good!” I slam my hand against the cave wall. Bits of rocks fall to the ground. I glare, conscious that my eyes blaze bright white.

She stumbles back.

“You want to set the world free, allow people to live? This is what must happen!”

“Then why me!” Her fists clench.

“Don’t for one second”—I flick a bit of rock from my shirt and try to stay calm— “think it’s because you’re special, Cleo.”

Her lower lip trembles. “I hate you.”

“Hate is useful, more than love.” I nod toward the book. “Do your homework, princess. Oh, and if you start writing I’ll bring you more things to work on as a precious intern, since technically that’s your job. You just switched…offices.”

Tears stream down her cheeks. “Is this your kink? Kidnapping people?”

“You came willingly.” I grin. “They all have to.”

She freezes. “H-how many people?”

“Since when?” I ask. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“How many people have been in this cave?”

I don’t answer her, just walk toward the back of the cave and pull the black curtain. Both walls are littered with names.

Sasha was here.

Ryan was here.

Deb was here.

Axel was here.

On and on it goes.

“Miles,” I say plainly. “This part of the cave will go down for miles. Some have tried to get lost, but the cave will always bring you back to this room until your mission is complete.”

She gasps, covering her face with her hands. “That’s thousands and thousands of people.”

I want to laugh, but I suppress the urge. “Thousands? No, you have to think bigger.”

I grab one of the torches and toss it down the hallway of the cave, it goes up at least seventy feet, and again continues on for three miles. The cave is covered with names, some are scratched with their fingertips, others with blood, some with the pen, dying with dignity but wanting to be remembered.

“It’s a grave,” she says.

“We honor them yearly and you will be the last. Their sacrifice gives the world life. Don’t you want to add your name now?”

More tears come, flowing down her face.

“Get to work.”

I start to walk away when she grabs my shirt. Nobody dares to grab me, touch me, or even talk with me as much as this one.

I’m again thankful for Kratos and what he did.

My heart is ice.

She’s too warm.

I jerk away.

“How many interns has the museum had?” she asks. “In the last… say, century?”

“New interns?” I shrug. “The last century?” My smile is hollow. “Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine…I’m old.”

She gasps. “Why?”

“See?” I turn and point at the names. “You’re not special. Congratulations, you wrote an excellent resume, but the common denominator here is that you’re all the same. Fascinated by something you have no understanding of. Play with fire, you will get burned.” I lean into her and press my mouth against hers blowing ice against her lips. “Look into the fire, and you’ll be lost.”

“What if I prefer that to this?” she asks, lips trembling with cold, tears frozen on her pretty cheeks.

“Trust me when I say death is preferable to the life I’ve seen.” I don’t tell her she has good moments, beautiful moments, soul crushing moments that would maybe make it worth it. I’m selfish. I want nothing more than to leave and finish my task. “In the end, you get everything you think you want and then you lose it, there is nothing for you here. I’m doing you a kindness.”

I leave out the birth of her daughter.

I leave out the soccer games and late-night ice cream with her police officer husband.

I leave it all because I refuse to face emotion.

It is dead.

So am I.

I start to leave again.

The panther still sleeps, damn it, Bast.

And then Cleo’s chasing after me, grabbing me by the arm and trying to pull me against her. I don’t move, but I am curious. “What now?”

“What happened to you?”

I falter a bit and then answer, “Blood. War. Death.”

“But you were nice earlier. You kissed me, and you don’t seem?—”

“All an act to get what I want. After thousands of years, believe me when I say I’m used to it, and all of you”—I turn and stare at her— “taste the same.” I grin and lean in, capturing her lips with mine. My tongue slides past her lips, I grip her by the neck and lightly shove her into the rock wall, grinding my hips against hers.

She gasps in my mouth, her hands push against me. I feel nothing but the heat of her mouth and the softness of her lips.

And then I do something I haven’t done in my entire life.

I lie.

“You taste like everyone else.” I jerk back. “See? Nothing special. Just a pretty little human with a ticking time bomb.” I wipe my mouth like I’m disgusted, then spit on the floor. “Tick. Tock.”

She shrieks when I leave.

Bast wakes up and hisses.

I keep walking. I walk until I’m at the water and then just because I can, I blow toward the moon and create a flame with my mouth that reaches to the sky where I belong. I stop the solar flare, look over my shoulder, and wink.