Acheron (Dark-Hunter #15)(49)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Artemis shrank back at those words.

Zeus turned on Apollo. "What have you done?"

All arrogance now gone, Apollo blanched as fear tinted his eyes. "I cursed my people, not hers. I didn’t do anything to the Atlanteans, Papa. Unless their blood was mixed with my Apollites, they were unharmed by my curse. This is not my fault."

Her stomach drawing tight, Artemis covered her mouth as she realized what pantheon Acheron must have belonged to. Terrified of what she and Apollo had set in motion, she left the hall where the gods prepared for war and went to her temple so that she could think without their angry shouts in her ears.

"What can I do?"

She was just about to summon her koris to her when the three Fates appeared in her room: As triplets in the height of youthful beauty, their faces perfect duplicates of each other. But that was the only thing that united them. The eldest, Atropos, had red hair while Clotho was blond, and the youngest, Lachesis, had dark hair. They were the daughters of the goddess of justice. No one was sure who their father was, but many suspected Zeus.

The one thing every god on Olympus knew was that these three girls were the most powerful of the entire pantheon. Even Zeus didn’t try to circumvent them.

Since the moment of their arrival a decade ago, everyone had given them a wide berth. When the three of them held hands and made a statement, it became the law of the universe and no one was immune to it.

No one.

Artemis couldn’t imagine why they’d be here in her temple. "If you don’t mind, I’m a little busy right now."

Lachesis grabbed her arm. "Artemis, you must listen to us. We’ve done something terrible."

That was why the gods lived in fear of them. They were always doing something terrible to someone. "Whatever it is, it’ll wait."

"No," Atropos said grimly, "it won’t. Apollymi is coming here to kill us."

Stunned by that proclamation, Artemis scowled at them. "What?"

Atropos swallowed. "You must never tell anyone what we’re about to tell you. Do you understand? Our mother made us swear to keep it at secret."

"Keep what secret?"

"Swear to us, Artemis," Clotho demanded.

"I swear. Now tell me what’s going on." And most important, why it involved her.

Atropos spoke in a whisper as if afraid someone outside the temple might hear her. "Our father is Archon-the king of the Atlantean gods. He had an affair with our mother, Themis, and we were born of it. Our mother sent us to Atlantis to live and our father took us in. Apollymi is our stepmother and we unknowingly cursed our half-brother when we learned of his coming birth."

"It was an accident," Clotho blurted out. "We didn’t mean to curse him."

Lachesis nodded. "We were just children and didn’t understand our powers yet. We never meant to curse our brother. We didn’t, we swear!"

Artemis went cold inside. "Acheron? Acheron is your brother?"

Clotho nodded. "Apollymi barely tolerated us while we lived with them. We were a reminder of our father’s infidelity and she hated us for it."

That didn’t make sense, any more than their fear did. Artemis tried to sort through what they were telling her. "But everyone knows that Archon has never been unfaithful to his wife."

Lachesis snorted. "That’s a lie the Atlantean gods keep so that Apollymi won’t harm them. You don’t understand just how powerful she is. She can kill us without even blinking. All the gods fear her power. Even Archon. He’s as faithless as most men and so here we are."

"She wants us dead," Clotho interjected.

Still Artemis was piecing the story together. "How exactly did you curse Acheron?"

"We were so stupid," Atropos said. "When Apollymi began to show her pregnancy, we spoke out of turn and gave Apostolos the power of final fate. We said he’d be the death of us all and it seems today we are about to see our demise met."

Artemis was even more confused. "But it’s not him who threatens us. It’s his mother."

Clotho nodded. "And she will kill all of us for our part in his curse. Including you."

"I did nothing!"

Atropos scoffed at her as the young women encircled her. "We know what you’ve done, Artemis. We see all. You hurt him even more than we did. You turned your back on him while Apollo gutted him on the floor and Apollymi knows it."

Fear tore through her. If what they said was correct, there would be no mercy from Apollymi. Truthfully, she didn’t deserve any, but on the other hand, Artemis really didn’t want to die. "What can we do? How do we defeat her?"

Atropos sighed heavily. "You can’t. She’s all-powerful. The only one who can check her powers is her son."

In that case, they were in serious trouble since Acheron was now dead. Couldn’t someone have told her this before she’d left him to Apollo? This information was just a little late in coming and would have been much more beneficial earlier in the day.

"We’re dead," Artemis breathed as images of her being gutted by Acheron’s mother went through her head.

"No," Clotho said firmly, shaking her arm. "You can bring him back."

Artemis scowled at the woman. "Are you insane? I can’t bring him back from the dead."

"Yes, you can. You’re the only one who has the power."

"No, I don’t."

Atropos growled at her. "You drank of his blood, Artemis. You absorbed some of his powers."

Clotho nodded. "He’s the final fate. He can resurrect the dead, which means you can too."

Artemis swallowed. "Are you sure?"

They nodded in unison.

Still, Artemis was uncertain. Granted she’d tasted Acheron’s powers, but that particular one was reserved for only a very select group of gods and if they failed to bring him back . . .

It could only get worse.

Atropos took her by the arm. "The Atlantean gods used their combined powers to bind Apollymi. So long as Apostolos is alive in the human realm, she’s locked in Kalosis."

Lachesis took her other arm and nodded. "We bring him back and she’s interred again."

"We’ll be safe," Clotho offered. "All of us."

"You will be the savior of the pantheon!" they said in unison.

Did she really have a choice? Drawing in a deep breath for courage, Artemis nodded. "What do I have to do?"

"You will have to get him to drink your blood," Atropos said as if it would be the easiest thing in the world to accomplish.

"And just how do I do that?"

"With our help."

Acheron lay on the floor in calm serenity, finally numb to everything from his past and present. He was at peace in a way he’d never been before. The walls of his cave shielded him from the voices of others. Not even the gods were in his head.

For the first time in his life, he had total silence.

There was no aching in his body, no grief. Nothing. And he loved this feeling of tranquility.

"Acheron?"

He tensed at Artemis’s voice. Of course the bitch was going to disturb his haven. She could never leave him in peace.

Damn her.

He tried to tell her to go away, but nothing other than a hoarse croak left his lips. Coughing, he tried to clear his throat to speak.

Still no words would come. What was going on? What had taken his voice?

Artemis gave him a tender, concerned look as she appeared before him. "We need to talk."

He shoved her back, but she refused to go.

"Please," she begged with a look that would have weakened his resolve only a few days ago. But that concern for her was now long gone. "Just a few words and I’ll leave you. Forever if you wish."

How could they talk when he couldn’t speak?

She held a cup out to him. "Drink this and I’ll be able to talk to you."

Furious with her and wanting to vent his anger at her, he grabbed the cup and downed the contents without tasting them. "Go to Tartarus and rot," he snarled at her, grateful that this time she could hear the venom in his voice.

Then something happened. Pain and fire ripped through his body as if something was setting his internal organs aflame. Panting, he looked up at Artemis. "What have you done to me now?"

There was no mercy or remorse in her gaze. "What I had to do."

One moment he was in the quiet darkness of Hades’s domain and in the next, he was standing on the shores of Didymos, not far from the palace.

Or rather what was left of it.

Confused, he looked around, trying to understand what had happened to him and the land. But before he could figure it out a searing pain tore through him with such ferocity that it drove him to his knees in the surf.

Acheron cried out, wanting it to stop.

Suddenly, Artemis was there before him. Gathering him into her arms, she held him close as the waves crashed against them. "I had to bring you back."

He shoved her away from him as he looked around at the smoldering remains of Didymos. "What have you done?"

"I didn’t do this. Your mother did. She’s destroyed everything and everyone who ever went near you. And she was coming to kill us on Olympus. It’s why I had to bring you back. She would have killed us all had I not."

He glared so hard at her, he was sure his eyes were red. "You think I give a damn about that?" He started away from her, only to be frozen in place by the pain tearing at his stomach. The agony caused him to double over as he struggled to breathe.

Artemis approached him slowly. She stood above him, looking down. "I’m the one in control here, Acheron. I’ve bound you to me with my blood. I own you."

Those three words set fire to his wrath. He felt the familiar heat ripple over him as his human appearance gave way to that of his god form. Rising against the pain, he held his hand out and brought Artemis into his grasp. "You seriously underestimate my powers, bitch."

She clutched at his hand, trying to loosen his feral grip. "Kill me and you’ll become the worst sort of monster imaginable. You need my blood to maintain any sort of sanity. Without it, you will become a mindless killer, seeking only to destroy any and everyone you come into contact with . . . just like your mother."

Acheron roared with frustration. The bitch had thought of everything. Even as a god, he was still a slave. "I hate you."

"I know."

He shoved her away from him and turned his back on her.

"Acheron, did you not hear what I said? You will have to feed from me."

He ignored her as he made the long trek from the beach to the hill where the royal palace had once stood. Now there was nothing left but smoldering ashes and busted stones. There were bodies of servants and merchants everywhere.

Tears filled his eyes as he ran through the debris, seeking a sign of Ryssa or Apollodorus. Aching and broken, he used his powers to move stone and marble until he uncovered the room that had been hers.

There in the wreckage he found three of the diaries she’d so meticulously kept. They were a little scarred by fire, but miraculously, they’d somehow survived intact. He opened the first one and stared at her childish writing as she described the very day he’d been born and the joy she’d felt at having twin brothers. Wiping his tears, he closed it and held it close to his heart as he heard her voice in her words.

His precious sister was gone and it was all his fault.

Aching from the truth of that, he saw one of the silver hair combs he’d given her . . .

He crawled over to it and placed it against his lips. "I’m so sorry I failed you, Ryssa. I’m so sorry."

As he sat there, it hit him how pathetic it was that all he had to show for a life so vibrant, a soul so beautiful, were such minuscule things. Three diaries and a broken hair comb. That was all that was left of his precious sister. Leaning his head back, he sobbed from the pain of it all.

"Apostolos . . . please don’t cry."

He felt his mother’s presence. "What have you done, Matera?"

"I wanted them to pay for hurting you."

Did it even matter? What they’d done to him was nothing compared to what had been done this day. "And now Artemis owns me."

His mother’s scream mirrored his own. "How?"

"She’s bound me to her with her blood."

He could feel his own anger through his mother’s voice. "Come to me, Apostolos. Free me and I will destroy that bitch and those bastards who cursed you."

Acheron shook his head. He should do it. He should. They all deserved nothing better and yet he couldn’t bring himself to destroy the world. To kill innocent people . . .

His mother appeared before him as a translucent shade. Acheron sucked his breath in sharply as he saw her for the very first time. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Hair as white as new-fallen snow fell from a crown that shimmered with diamonds. Her pale, silver eyes swirled just as his did. Her black dress flowed over her body as she held one hand out to him.

He tried to touch her, but his hand passed through hers.

"You are my son, Apostolos. The only thing in my life that I’ve ever truly loved. I would give my life for yours. Come to me, child. I want to hold you."

He treasured every word she spoke. "I can’t, Matera. Not if that means sacrificing the world. I refuse to be so selfish."