Chapter 18

18

Vesh

I pace back and forth at the end of the large table in our war room, a storm brewing inside me. My guards have assembled as requested, all save three, but their postures are a mix of defiance and anticipation. Tension crackles in the air, almost as palpable as the magic pulsing through my veins.

I clench my fists, trying to contain the frustrated rage that’s ready to erupt. “Where the fuck are my brothers?” I start, my voice sharp as a blade. I send the question mentally to the bastards in question, but the utter lack of response from them makes me clench my fists so hard purple lightning crackles out from them.

“I think you know the answer to that, boss,” Pan says.

I dart an exasperated look at the faun. “One day until we hit Pandemonium, two until we face those damned Titans, and my brothers are too busy playing house with Nemea to bother showing up.”

Asterius raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. Cerberus shifts uneasily, each of his three heads emitting erratic whines. Chrysaor and Pan exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between them.

“You’ve all bonded with her now?” I can barely keep the snarl from my voice. “All night in her sanctuary, indulging in distractions when we have a prison to secure and Titans to bring to heel?”

Campe stands up straighter, her eyes flaring with that prismatic fire I know all too well. “Getting Nemea to full power is part of preparing her for battle,” she retorts sharply.

A bitter laugh erupts from me unbidden. “Preparing her for battle? Is that what you call it?” Sarcasm drips like venom from my words, but even I can’t deny what a hypocrite I am. I can still smell her on them—on all of them—and I have zero doubt Typhon and Erebus are with her still.

Campe’s face hardens, and she steps closer. “She’s more than just a weapon, Vesh,” she snaps back at me. “She’s a person, with powers that we need at their peak if we’re going to stand a chance. You said yourself this heist will be easy. We had a successful dry run yesterday. We’re all as ready as we’ll get.” She spreads her hands as if about to placate me, then shakes her head and clenches them into fists. “I should be preparing to train her to fight, but I’m here listening to your bullshit. Get your shit together.”

The rest of the room goes dead quiet at her insolence. But she continues to hold my gaze, challenging me. Before I can argue further, she disappears in a swirl of violet smoke, leaving behind only the echo of her defiance.

“Fuck!” I curse under my breath, slamming my palm against the table. The obsidian-like surface ripples with the impact before settling back into stillness.

Cerberus lets out an eerie, low-pitched howl, and I snap my gaze to him.

“What the fuck is wrong with him? He’s been acting off since Erebus left.”

Asterius clears his throat. “He is more closely bonded to you and your brothers than the rest of us. His loyalties are split.”

I turn to Asterius. He’s always been the one to keep his head when everyone else loses theirs.

“We need focus,” I state firmly, trying to regain control of the meeting and myself. “I need you all on top of your game.” My eyes scan the room, landing on each guard in turn. What’s left of them, anyway.

Cerberus woofs, his central head snapping to attention, eyes sharp and focused. The other two heads, however, continue their erratic behavior—one snarling and baring its teeth, the other whimpering and shaking as if caught in a nightmare.

“And we need someone to fill Erebus’ place,” I continue, ignoring Cerberus’ unease for now.

“I’m the only other guard who can fill that role,” Pan says. “Perhaps we send Asterius to seduce Sybil. Give him my appearance.”

I shake my head. “She’ll know he isn’t a satyr. It’ll be easier to fool Chaos with Campe, since Sybil’s part dragon.”

“They say Chaos came to Sybil as a bull their first time. What if I’m not disguised as the faun? What if I pretend to be her mate?” Asterius offers.

“She’ll definitely know you aren’t him. We can’t diverge from that part of the plan. Pan will seduce Sybil. I’ll meet with Erika, see if she has any ideas. Meanwhile, if I catch any of you fuckers leaving the prison without my permission, I’ll fucking lock you back up.”

I endure their bitter looks before I wave a hand to dismiss them. Our time is running short. I don’t have time for them to indulge their libidos outside the prison, away from my attention. I need to fucking get Nemea back, to keep things contained if nothing else.

As much as I hate to admit it, without Nemea’s full cooperation and without my brothers by my side, our chances are looking slimmer by the minute.

The silence of the night wraps around me like a cloak as I stand at the edge of Erika’s excavation site. It’s an hour when even the restless souls of the world find solace in sleep. My gaze drifts southward, pulled by an invisible thread toward where Nemea is staying. The idea of seeing her, just to catch a glimpse, is a temptation that stirs within me like a restless wind. But I don’t sense her in the world at the moment, which means she’s likely still slumbering inside her sanctuary.

In Tartarus, time bends to my will—a convenient feature that I assume her secret sanctuary shares. To her, hours of passion with my guards might feel like an eternity, while here, in the mortal world, it’s been mere moments. This thought offers me a flicker of optimism. Now that they are all bonded with her, they should be more efficient with their time—as long as their trysts remain within the confines of her magical space. Though keeping them confined to Tartarus would be preferable.

Noise is inconsequential to me as I stride into Erika’s camp, not bothering to mask my presence. The sudden disturbance sends a ripple through the stillness. Erika sticks her head out her tent opening, her green eyes blazing in the darkness.

“What in high fuck do you think you’re doing stomping through my camp like that?” she hisses, stepping out into the open to confront me with an anger that could rival that of the Titans themselves.

The other members of her team groggily join us, including a blinking Gabby, who slips an arm around her mother’s bare leg and peers up at me.

“Why is the crazy man here again, Mama?”

Erika glances affectionately down at her daughter, gently combing fingers through the child’s red curls. “He has important business with me. Remember, he’s going to help us fix your Papa.”

Gabby sizes me up with a cock of her head, then gives a skeptical nod. “If you say so.”

Erika chuckles and sweeps her daughter into her arms. “Go with Thea, baby. I’ll see you in the morning,” she says as she hands the child off to one of the other women who I roused with my noisy entrance. The others slip back into their tents, sending scowls my way.

I grab Erika’s arm, and with a flash of power, I whisk her away from the camp toward the true heart of her archaeological treasure—the excavated doors of the Temple of Olympus.

The dig site is well illuminated, though the temple doors cast their own ethereal divine glow over the area, at the center of which the four cursed dragon eggs lie under watchful eyes. Half a dozen ivory-scaled Guardian dragons stand guard around the eggs, while a dragon so dark he’s nearly invisible perches high above at the mountain’s peak, watching silently. Kol, the Queen’s Shadow, head of security and spymaster for the dragon race, is still here.

Erika rounds on me again. “You’re not supposed to be heading to Vegas until tomorrow night. What’s so urgent that it couldn’t wait until morning?”

A flood of grievances threatens to spill forth about Nemea and my guards. I purse my lips, barely holding it all back, but Erika narrows her eyes, ever perceptive and adept at peeling back layers I never intended to expose.

She marches over to an area shaded by a canvas lean-to with a picnic table underneath, opens a trunk, and produces a bottle and two tin cups.

“Out with it,” she commands, plunking the cups down and pouring a measure of oaky whiskey into each one before she sits.

“I didn’t come here to burden you with my woes.”

She snorts as she takes a swallow from her cup, gesturing for me to sit also. I obey and pick up the cup, swirling the liquid and staring into the resulting vortex that so well reflects what’s going on inside me.

“You fucking woke me up out of a sound sleep for something that probably could’ve waited for daylight.”

“I wasn’t aware of the time. The hours are distorted inside the prison.”

“All the better to torment the residents?” she suggests.

“Something like that.”

She cocks her head, her piercing stare making me itch. “How is Nemea?”

I cover my irritation by tossing back the alcohol in one swallow, then reach for the bottle to top up my cup. Erika raises her eyebrows.

“That bad, huh?”

“She left me.”

She makes an ohhh sound that’s part laughter, and I grit my teeth to keep from lashing out.

“I don’t find it funny,” I snap.

“Oh, it’s fucking hysterical. You’re not very good at listening, are you? She left because you trapped her, didn’t she?”

“She had the power to leave when she wanted…”

“Did she know that?”

When I don’t answer, Erika scoffs. “You’re a fucking fool, Vesh. I told you that scheme of yours would backfire. Where is she now? Is your plan to beat the Titans fucked now?”

“She’s still speaking to my guards. She’s still training to help us fight too. She’s just not speaking to me at the moment. I’d rather not say where she is. She’s safe, and Alcides and Campe are with her.” I snort, then add, “And my traitor brothers, who incidentally are not speaking to me at all now. Which brings me to why I’m here: Erebus is out of the plan. I need a replacement for him.”

She nods, but only stares at me for several beats. “And?”

“And I was hoping you could help.”

“Are you asking, or demanding? Because my friends don’t respond well to demands.”

I heave a weary sigh. “Fine. Erika, can you please help find a replacement for my brother? Someone who is both fast and silent.”

She nods, and in as casual a tone as any, says, “Kol, this is up your alley. You up for it?”

I give a start when the shadows around us swirl and coalesce into a dark form with a face I recognize. It isn’t a solid man, but its face is unmistakably Kol’s.

“Explain what you need,” the shadow says. “I’m listening.”

Heavy wingbeats sound from overhead, and the black dragon who lurked high above lands with a thud outside our lean-to, kicking up dust. A moment later, the man himself strides in, his naked body wrapped in a shifting, inky veil that solidifies into tactical gear. He steps into the place where his darkened replica stood, the tendrils of this ethereal covering merging seamlessly with his form.

I can’t disguise how impressed I am with his command of the shadows. It isn’t the same as my brother’s, but will do the job, I think.

“You will be the go-between, taking custody of Chaos’ essence once Campe secures it and transporting it to me where I await by the vault. It sounds simple, but it must be done quickly and without detection. You won’t be able to teleport to the vault due to the security measures in place, but you’ll have to access it through ventilation shafts.”

“No problem. I can have backups at our disposal too. Sybil’s parties always include an open invitation to any higher races who wish to attend. It won’t be out of the ordinary to have more dragons present.”

“Too many additions can compromise the security of the mission. If you need a backup, choose one dragon you trust. Here is the layout of the resort.”

I stand and spread my hands across the open surface of the table in front of me. Purple light cascades from my fingertips, sketching a three-dimensional blueprint of the Pandemonium resort, from its highest penthouse floor where Chaos spends his days all the way down to the subterranean vaults, the lowest of which houses his personal vault.

“The party is being held in the penthouse. Sybil prefers to hold her orgies in the pool, but Pan will lure her into the saunas for a private tryst. When he does, Campe will take her place, seducing Chaos and extracting his essence. You’ll need to be nearby for her to hand it off to you.”

He frowns. “Campe, as in the sister to the Mother Dragon? She is powerful. More powerful than I am. Can she not manifest shadows to carry the essence to you when she captures it?”

“We’ll need her to ensure Chaos doesn’t catch wind of the ruse. She’ll need her full focus for that.” I don’t divulge the fact that Campe’s powers tend to be erratic. She’ll need every bit of focus to maintain her Sybil disguise. Her role is the one piece of the plan that can’t be improvised or substituted.

Kol nods. “I understand.”

“I’ll return here this time tomorrow to retrieve you both.”

We finalize our plans under the silent vigil of the Guardians. Erika’s alliance and her team’s competence makes me wish for the times when I had the same confidence in my own team. Her partnership and that of her team might just tip the scales in our favor against the Titans.