Ares (Contemporary Mythos Book 3)

We’d locked ourselves in my apartment for the past three days, christening nearly every square inch with our newfound partnership. If ever there’d been an officially consummated relationship, it was ours. I sat on the couch wearing only a flannel blanket, mindlessly scrolling through the TV channels. Yet again, the surfer named Simon Thalassa popped up. I paused, watching him effortlessly conquer each wave his board had the pleasure of gliding across.

Ares’s presence loomed behind me, the scents of leather and soap permeating the air. His hand dipped over my shoulder, running his callused fingertips across my collarbone.

“I’ve never had one ounce of interest in surfing, but this guy is good.” I pointed at the blonde surfer.

Ares made a pfft sound. “He should be, considering he’s the king of all the seas.” He reached in front of me and hit the power button for the TV with a grunt.

“King of the—” I snapped my gaze to him. “Simon is Poseidon?”

“Uh-huh,” he said monotone before planting a quick kiss on my neck. “Get dressed.”

I slipped off the couch, not bothering to bring the blanket with me. Ares’s eyes roamed over my naked body, his teeth biting into his bottom lip.

“Are we going somewhere?” I stretched my arms above my head.

Ares groaned as he slid forward, trailing a hand up my thigh to my hip. “What kind of war god would you be without armor and weapons?”

My heart fluttered with anticipation. “You should’ve led with that.” Grinning, I snapped my fingers and appeared fully clothed, despite Ares’s pout.

“Heph has a blacksmithing shop in London. He hasn’t made a new set of armor for a god in quite some time. I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic.” He curled his arm around me, and within seconds, we stood in the streets of London in front of a small shop. A wooden anvil sign hung over the door with the words: “Vulcan Blacksmithing.”

“And who is he in the continually confusing family tree?”

“My brother. One I get along with.”

“Half-brother?”

“Yes. I mean, technically, he doesn’t have a father, so maybe a full brother?” Ares scratched the back of his head.

“How can he not have a father?” I held a palm up. “You know what? Conversation for another time.”

We slipped through the front door, a bell chiming as we entered. Every countertop had several layers of dust, cobwebs clung to every corner, and rusted tools scattered over the tables.

“Are you sure he’s here?” I ran my finger across the counter with a grimace.

“He’s probably in the back.”

I smacked my palm on a bell resting on the counter. Dust fluttered through the air, making me cough. We stood in silence, waiting for him to show. Ares beat his fingers against the counter before slamming his hand down on the bell three more times.

“Heph,” Ares shouted, trekking from one side of the shop to the other. He peeled back curtains, peeked in closets, and still no sign of the God of the Forge.

A blue circular portal swirled in the air in front of us. A man with cropped dark brown hair in a black duster jacket stumbled out of it, covered in bright green sludge, and the portal disappeared.

The man slid a hand over his brow, ridding it of slime before snapping fingers at the ground, flinging the ooze at my feet.

“Every bloody time,” the man said, his deep voice rich with a British accent.

“Heph,” Ares said.

Heph widened his dark eyes and then furrowed his brow, shifting his glance between us. A gnarled scar traveled down the right side of his face, partly covered by a trimmed full beard.

“What’s this all about then?” He pointed between us, sending more sludge flying.

“Thought I’d stop by for tea and crumpets so we could catch up,” Ares gruffed. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Heph chuckled. “Right you are. What’ll it be this time, brother, a claymore twice the size of Wallace’s? A mace worthy of slaughtering a cyclops?”

“We’re here for me,” I chimed in.

Heph turned with a brightened grin. “Ah, yes. You are a goddess, aren’t you? I know I’m hardly ever here in this time or dimension anymore, but I should still recognize you. Shouldn’t I?” He arched a brow at Ares.

“A recent development. She’ll need armor, a xiphos, javelin, shield. All of it.”

“The whole shebang. I love it. Follow me then. The forge out front here won’t do your godly self any justice.” He motioned with his hand for us to follow.

“Am I supposed to ignore the fact you appeared from a portal covered in green slime?” I asked as he led us into a room with a forge the size of half a football field.

“I’m a bounty hunter, love. I go where the money is, and it’s not always right around the corner.” Heph waved his hand and molten metal glowing orange pooled in a nearby vat.

“Vlákas. You reek, Heph.” Scrunching his nose, Ares fanned Heph.

The green sludge had dried and caked against Heph’s face and clothes.

“Aren’t you going to change?” I plugged my nose with two fingers.

Heph stuck his bottom lip out. “Nah. It reminds me of my mistakes.” He threw an arm out, making a giant hammer appear. “You’d think with the number of times I’ve killed harpies, I’d have learned by now to be farther away when dealing the final blow.”

Ares shook his head with a small grin. The fact I lived in a world where you could throw the idea of an interdimensional bounty hunter into a conversation so casually baffled me.

“You two don’t seem to loathe each other. I’d been under the impression that was a normal custom with this family.” I picked up a chrome-plated pair of tweezers.

Heph plucked it from my grasp. “Rule number one. No one touches my tools, ‘cept for me. Got it?” He tossed the tweezers back to where I’d found them.

“Sure.” I frowned.

Heph shrugged off his duster jacket and tossed it to a corner. His arms were tanned, muscular, and cut, but not as bulging as Ares. A tattoo wrapped around his left forearm—a crane in flight, its wings melting into the same molten lava of Heph’s forge, forming an anvil near his wrist.

“You could say we have something in common, eh brother? Both cast from Olympus. Me because our dear sweet mum thought I was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. Ares because he threw the occasional temper tantrum.” Heph’s lips thinned, and he stared into space before shaking his head.

“This family really puts the ‘diss’ in ‘dysfunctional,’ hm?” I flashed a smile at Ares who’d already been staring at me—beaming at me.

“Oh, it’s not all bad, love. Look at it this way, there’s never a dull moment, and you can simply poof yourself away.” Heph rolled his wrist and flicked his hand in the air with a flourish. “Now about this armor.” Heph wrapped his hands around my ribcage, concentration straining his face.

Ares snarled and shoved Heph away from me.

Heph slow-blinked with a sigh. “Do you want it to fit or not? ‘sides, if I were going to try to cop a feel of your darling girlfriend here, I wouldn’t be doing it in front of you, would I?”

The corners of Ares’s jaw bobbed, and he grunted. “Fine.”

Heph nodded once and proceeded to squeeze my shoulders, forearms, and head. His hands lingered over my chest, and his fingers wriggled. “We’ll just account for a little extra room for that…particular area.”

He dipped his hands into the hot liquid without so much as a wince. “Any color preference?”

“I’ve always been partial to red.” I caught Ares’s gaze, idly licking the corner of my mouth.

“Do you drink the blood of your enemies from their skulls too?” Heph removed a xiphos with a golden blade—red leaf emblems swirled around the hilt. He held it out to me, beaming at his newly born weapon baby.

I took it with both hands, holding it as if it’d wither away. “Heph, this is gorgeous.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to forge for a god. And I always strive to outdo myself. Isn’t that right, Ares?”

Ares shook his head, leaning past me to gaze at the wondrous sword in my palms. “Incorporate a wildcat somehow.” He squeezed my hip.

“One step ahead of you.” Heph removed his arms from the lava, holding them upright like a prepping surgeon.

He walked over to me and pressed his hands against my shoulders. Black and golden armor materialized, a flap of red over my right shoulder, followed by a roaring lion’s head on my left. He pressed a finger against my sternum, and the armor formed a breastplate with ornate Corinthian leaf patterns. Gripping my forearms, he made gauntlets with red trim appear. Continuing the process, he touched my body where he wanted the armor to mold until I stood fully decked in my brightened gold, black, and red armor, complete with tasseled skirt and shin guards.

The heated intensity in Ares’s gaze suggested he’d sprawl me on the floor and take me, no matter if Heph were here or not. It made my chest tighten, and I hadn’t even seen myself in full war goddess mode yet.

“The final touch.” Heph removed a Spartanesque helmet from the vat. It matched Ares’s with the added element of swirling leaves brushing up the sides. He gave a knowing smile as he slipped it over my head. “It only seemed fitting, love.”

Ares stared at me with flared nostrils. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, gatáki. This, godhood, all of it, really was meant for you.”

I walked over to a metal shield resting against a table, peering at myself in my goddess of war attire. Ares was right. I couldn’t imagine myself any other way now. Dragging my fingers over the lion on my shoulder, I held back tears stinging my eyes.

“Right then. You should be all set. I’d love to stay and chat, but duty—” Heph’s back pocket buzzed, and he frowned, grabbing it. His thumb scrolled over the screen with a wry grin. “Your sister. I swear she’s bloody obsessed with me.”

Ares squinted. “Which one?”

Grinning like a hyena, Heph’s worked his thumbs feverishly across the touch screen keyboard. “Dite.”

Ares laughed, hearty and deep. “Please. She’d never make it past that mug of yours.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, chest warming, watching the two brothers throwing verbal jabs at each other.

My family. My family. Unreal.

“Never underestimate the power of personality.” Heph breathed on his knuckles and rubbed them against his shirt. “But you’re right. The only reason she ever texts me is to ask about sending clients her way. I often wonder why I ever bothered giving her my number in the first place, and then I remember those—” He trailed off and held his hands in front of his chest like he held two watermelons.

“Didn’t you have to leave?” Ares grumbled.

“I do. I got a big score in the Yaminite district. Flesh-eating slug monsters are overrunning them. I didn’t even know that was a thing.” He shrugged, held out his hand, and his jacket flew into his palm. He slipped it on, finally rid himself of harpy guts, and the blue portal appeared behind him.

“Thanks for the armor.” The orange sparks from the hot forge near us reflected off the sleek armor hugging my body.

Heph saluted as he backed away. “Enjoy it. And Harm—” He bowed and gave a snarky grin. “Welcome to this shite show of a family.” Pushing off the balls of his feet, he leaped into the portal behind him.

Ares dragged his finger over the metal covering my breasts. “How do you feel, Harm?”

“Like I’m ready to take on the world.” I peered at him through the slits of my helmet and gave one twirl of my sword.

His attention snapped over my shoulder, brow cinching into a scowl. He stormed for the back door.

I slipped off my helmet. “Ares? What is it?” Following him, I paused at the exit, looking down at my armor. Waving a hand over myself, I changed back into street clothes.

Ares stood in the alley behind the shop, seething at a dark-haired man in a grey suit casually leaning against one wall.

The man slid one hand from his pants pockets and rubbed the light beard on his chin. “We’ve always been at a point of contention, son, but to not call on me to create your goddess girlfriend? That stings. First Apollo, now you? At some point, I think I should be insulted.”

Son?

Which would make him…oh shit. Zeus.

“You think I give a maláka about how you feel?” Ares growled, widening his stance.

“Fair enough.” Zeus pushed off the wall, pulling the sleeves of the white shirt underneath his jacket. “You honestly still think after all these years, I kicked you out of Olympus because you threw a few tables? Yelled and cursed at me a time or two? Hm?”

I slinked far enough away to give them privacy but still allow me to see.

“What in Tartarus are you getting at, old man?”

Zeus sighed. “You’ve always had my thick-headedness, so allow me to enlighten you. You were made for more than life on an ethereal mountain. Look at all you accomplished through the ages. It required you to be here.” He pointed down. “On Earth. Not rubbing elbows and drinking ambrosia wine with the other gods.”

Ares glared and closed the space between them. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that you did it on purpose? That you weren’t a horrible father? It was for my own good?”

“It was for your own good.” Electricity sparked over Zeus’s hand.

Ares laughed as he threw his hands up, turning away from the King of the Gods.

“The power you were gifted was too much for one god,” Zeus added, raising his voice.

“And so, you cast me out to let me figure it out on my own?”

“You needed that hate. It drove you to be the war god you are today.” He dragged a hand through his hair, pausing to tug it. “Besides, you found a kindred spirit in Hades—both depressed fools despite the power given to them. And I’m sure there were plenty of conversations of your mutual hate over me.” Zeus’s head lowered, breaking eye contact with Ares.

“This is why you stopped by? To say you’re annoyed I didn’t ask you about Harm and talk about the past?”

“I had a feeling you’d bypass my approval. It’s why I sent Athena and The Furies.” Zeus’s dark gaze landed on me. “But we still have yet to meet. You’re a goddess now, Harmony. Which makes me your king.”

I slipped out from my hiding spot.

Ares slid between us. “What are you doing?”

“Introducing myself,” Zeus said with narrowed eyes. Electricity pulsed over his hand as he pushed Ares aside.

His eyes roamed over my face and body, but not in the flirtatious sense. No, he was dissecting me. He extended a hand—the same hand that’d just had lightning coursing through it. “I want to make one thing clear. You have an immense responsibility now, Harmony. I’ll be watching to ensure you uphold your side of it.” His jaw tightened. “If you don’t—” Electricity sparked in his eyes. “I’ll make sure you do.’

I stared at him wide-eyed before managing to nod my head. Words like “You can count on me, sir.” Or, “You don’t need to worry about me, sir,” should’ve flung from my mouth, but instead, I became mute.

Ares stepped in front of me. “Why do you have to be such a prick about everything?”

Zeus pulled on the jacket sleeves for each arm, sliding them further over the white shirt underneath. “It’s not my job to be nice, Ares. It’s to make sure everyone does their malákas jobs.” He leaned his face into Ares’s, and the two masculine gods stood toe-to-toe at the same height.

“I’m glad you threw me off Olympus.” Ares’s cheek twitched.

“That’s the spirit.” Zeus plucked at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “You’ll be seeing more of me, Ares.” He shot his powerful gaze to me. “Get used to it.” Before Ares had a chance to retort, Zeus disappeared in a crackle of lightning.

I stared at a fracture in the concrete that traveled between my feet.

“Vlákas. This family,” Ares mumbled.

Zeus’s words played on a loop in my head. Not just about him threatening me if I didn’t do a good job but his immense responsibility to keep all of the gods and goddesses in line.

“I need to see what I can do with my powers. Can you take me somewhere? Anywhere?”

“You don’t have to prove a damn thing to him, Harm.”

I locked my eyes with his. “Yes, I do.”

Ares sighed and stared at me as if waiting for me to change my mind. He trailed his fingers over his beard. “I know better than to argue with you.” He motioned with his hand for me to come to him.

As I walked over, I masked the fear traveling down my spine. What if I couldn’t do as good a job as Zeus wanted? What would he do to make sure I did?

Ares slid his hand over my shoulder. “Where we’re going, they won’t be able to see us. It started as an extraction mission for a prisoner of war. The enemy launched a surprise attack, forcing them into an abandoned house. They’re losing drive. Passion. We need to boost morale.”

“Understood.”

We appeared in a stone-carved building with entire walls missing from obvious explosions. It was absolute chaos—gunfire, shouting, grenades detonating in random places. Five men in military-grade camo uniforms were scattered throughout the room, clutching their rifles to their chests. Whenever there was a break in the gunfire, one would pop up, aiming through a window to take as many shots as they could before falling back into cover.

“They have us surrounded. We’re sitting ducks in here!” One man yelled, adjusting his helmet.

“Where the fuck do you suggest we go? Sarge isn’t answering on comms either,” another responded.

Ares made a beeline for a man shaking and cowering in a corner. He hadn’t spoken nor tried to shoot back since we arrived—the weakest of the bunch.

I, on the other hand, was drawn to the one at the front of the room. He’d returned fire and exchanged a magazine in the few minutes since we’d arrived, but he didn’t chime in with the others. Little did he know, he was a natural-born leader. In a situation like this with no outranking soldiers, someone needed to take charge.

Ares yelled like a drill sergeant at the man in the corner. The man couldn’t see or hear him, but the drive exuding from Ares made the man blow out two quick breaths, prop up on the window sill and shoot two rounds.

I crouched by Mr. Leader, merely watching him for a moment. He grimaced every time he slammed back to the ground. Blood stained his jacket on the left side—a bullet graze. Despite his wound, he still led the charge. Three grenades hung from his utility belt and several more magazines—plenty of ammo.

I slid a hand over his shoulder, pushing every bit of passion within me into him. “You all can make it out of here. They’ll listen to you if you tell them what is going to happen versus what could happen. Take charge. Save your people.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, and he looked from one soldier to the other. I slid my hand away and backed off, my chest pumping with the hope he’d do what I knew he could.

“Everyone, listen up,” he ordered, demanding their attention.

Ares looked from the man back to me.

“How many grenades do we have? Magazines?”

They all answered in varied numbers.

“Good. We head out the back, use the grenades as a diversion to get to the next patch of cover. There’s plenty of it between here and the extraction point.” He lifted his head just enough his eyes peered over the sill. “I’ve counted rounds, and the main shooter will have to reload soon. When I give the go, everyone haul ass. Understood?”

Everyone responded in resounding whoops and hollers. As the firing paused, they all ran as instructed toward the back.

Ares stepped beside me, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about Zeus getting on your ass, gatáki. You were born for this.”

As I watched the soldiers make their way out without so much as a scratch, an unfamiliar swell spread through my chest like liquid fire—pride, not only for myself but for humans themselves. I’d damn near given up on them as a mortal myself. Even amid chaos, there’s always opportunity.