The Lord of the Underworld rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepled his fingers together and contemplated his options. “If we are to fight in the middle of a town, I will have to create a barrier of sorts. It wouldn’t do for Zeus or Poseidon to hear about what was happening. They have spies everywhere.”
Hades glared at Mordecai, who held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not one of them. You’re the one who found me,” he reminded the god.
“So I did.” He tapped one finger against his chin. “If I use energy on a force field, I will have to send fewer demons to fight.” He pointed at Mordecai. “You will go with me.”
Mordecai straightened away from the wall and smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would. You’re a bloodthirsty creature.” Hades stood and prowled across the floor, coming to a stop in front of Mordecai. “Just remember your place.”
“That, my lord, is something I never forget.” Mordecai let one corner of his mouth tilt upward, giving Hades a sly smile.
“Good.” Hades snapped his fingers and four enormous demons entered the room. Each was clad in leathery brown garments made from the flesh of lesser demons, and Mordecai knew it was thicker than steel armor. Each carried a sword in one hand that they angled across their chests before bowing to Hades.
They were an ugly lot with their glowing red eyes, their sharp teeth and dark skin. They spoke little but growled a lot, displaying their blackened gums. Their misshapen skulls and the short horns protruding from either side of their foreheads made them appear even more grotesque. They lived to fight and would follow Hades’ commands and unthinkingly give their lives for the god.
“Good choice.” These creatures spit acid and were quick on their feet. They would give Leander quite a challenge. Mordecai was looking forward to watching the battle.
Hades glared at him but refrained from answering. Mordecai enjoyed baiting the god even though it was a very dangerous pastime. But there was so little to give him joy in this realm that he took it where he could.
The god motioned to him and Mordecai strolled over to stand beside him. Hades swept his arm in a circular motion and thick black smoke appeared. It circled, getting faster and faster with each rotation. The circle grew larger until it encompassed half the room. The scent of burning flesh and brimstone grew more pungent. Mordecai had grown used to the smell, but it always made him feel like washing himself clean. He was used to fresh mountain air and the crisp scent of fir trees, or at least, he had been. This was his life now.
He shoved aside all thoughts of the past and stepped into the swirling mass beside Hades. All his senses disappeared when he stepped into the void. It was like being struck blind, deaf and speechless. There was no sound, nothing to see or hear or touch. But he grimly put one foot in front of the other, heading toward the light in the distance.
Hades was in front of him with the demons leading the way. No way would Hades enter the earthly realm first. No, the god always sent others ahead, those who were expendable. Mordecai was expected to protect his flank. He conjured his sword and held it at the ready. This was going to be one hell of a fight.
He laughed at his own pun—a hell of a fight, indeed—and stepped out of the tunnel and into the center of a middle-class living room in North Dakota. He raised his sword and saluted his former friend.
The Lady of the Beasts sat naked on the earth, soaking up the energy from the ground and the sun shining down on her. The sun would be gone soon, lost behind the mountains. But that didn’t matter. She could recharge her lost energy with the rays of the moon just as well.
Hades and his ilk never truly understood her or her connection to this world. She was of the earth and skies, drawing power from every grain of sand, every ray of light, every heartbeat of the animals who inhabited this planet.
Like all gods and goddesses, she also gained power when people worshiped her. Not that she’d ever demanded such a thing, not like the Greeks had. She’d always been content to live among the animals in the forests or mountains, but people had started saying prayers to her after a hunt or a harvest, and it had strengthened her, lending energy to the blazing light within her. It had also pleased her that humans hadn’t killed indiscriminately, had understood the sacrifice the animal made in giving its life so that they could live.
Then the gods and goddesses of Olympus had marked the world with their presence, bringing their greed and petulance with them, destroying the delicate balance of the world. They thought her weak. What they did not understand was that she was content to simply wait them out. She’d lived much longer than any of them, had seen creation itself and knew that the time of the other gods and goddesses would come and go and she would remain, as always, while they faded into the annals of history and time.
There’d been no need for them to attack her, to attack her warriors. Herself, she could forgive them for, but not her warriors. They were her creation, her children. And, like any mother, she was fiercely protective. It pained her that some of them had been lost to her, but she could not think about that now. One of her warriors was in immediate danger.
Leander. Her pale-pink lips curved upward in a gentle smile—the king of the beasts, so fierce and so protective. He would need her help soon, and she wanted to be ready to give what she could.
As the sun sank behind the mountain and the moon appeared in the sky, she began to chant. The musical notes fell easily from her lips, more sound than words, and all around her the world went still, the animals straining to hear her.
She sang for all the years she’d been kept away from what she loved best, locked in a dead world of rock and decay. A misty rain fell on her, the earth’s tears washing her clean. She sang for joy, for being reunited with all she loved, and the sky cleared, the clouds floating away.
A wolf howled nearby and a bear grunted just beyond the tree line. An owl hooted and a squirrel chattered. Soon the forest was alive with the music of the animals as they joined her in her song of celebration.
John Running Bear’s voice joined the chant from where he waited for her just beyond the clearing. She knew he would wait for her as long as was necessary, ready to help her with whatever she needed. He was truly a remarkable man, with one foot in this realm and another in the land of the gods.
The world was changing again as people realized just how precious the animals and the natural world was. People were fighting to save their world and she drew strength from them. Change was inevitable, and whether the human race survived or not was up to them. No matter what happened, she would survive, and she would rebuild, one tree, one animal at a time.
That was her true power, her true calling.
Chapter Fourteen
Araminta glanced warily around the room, hating that she had no idea where the next threat would come from. Leander’s broad shoulders gleamed, his tanned skin like polished bronze as he slowly turned in a circle, eyes narrowed, nostrils flared. He was a sight to behold, one she would have enjoyed if it weren’t for the fact she was expecting more killer demons to appear at any moment.
“Where are they?” she whispered, not quite knowing why. It was sort of like being in a library or a church where you naturally kept your voice low. There was such an air of anticipation the room practically hummed with it.
The light seemed to dim and then one entire corner of the living room seemed to totally disappear from view. “What’s happening?” Even as she asked, she knew. She’d written about the portals to and from Hell in her books, the ones that only Hades could command to open at will. But this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not in reality, and certainly not in the middle of her living room.