14. Deimos

Chapter 14

Deimos

“ No hard feelings ,” I’d told Cameron, and I’d meant it. It wasn’t personal, merely the means to an end. The fact that my brother was currently losing his shit was just a bonus.

“Give me back my sidekick!” he raged through the phone, his voice cracking.

I hummed as if I were thinking it over. “No, I don’t think I will. His tight ass really matches my décor.”

He snarled, and I pulled the phone away from my ear, wincing. “I have forgiven you a lot of things, Brother, but this is low even for you. If you hurt even one hair on his head, I will—”

“Oh, relax, would you? I’m not going to hurt him. I’m just going to borrow him for a little bit, then I’ll return him to you unharmed. I promise.”

Phobos snorted. “Yeah, like your word is worth anything.”

“Hey,” I said, pretending to be offended, “I’ll have you know I’ve never broken an oath in my life. Do you think I want to be forced to drink from the River Styx and be unable to speak for seven years? Or worse, driven to madness or put in a coma for a century? Pfft, no thanks.”

“Why do you even want him? Are you trying to get back at me for something? Is this because I wouldn’t side with you against Loki? Because Cameron doesn’t have anything to do with any of that.”

I sighed. “This has nothing to do with you,” I said, giving him a half-truth.

“What if we… shared him,” he suggested, his voice tight and stilted, and I knew how the offer pained him. He wanted Cameron all to himself. Well, too bad, because so did I.

Zeek appeared at my office door, indicating that Cameron had started to wake up. “Oh, sorry, Brother, I’ve gotta go.”

“Deimos, don’t you dare hang up on me. We’re not finish—” he was saying as I disconnected the call and pushed away from my desk.

I didn’t have to worry about Phobos. Not only did he not know where my secret lair was, but even if he did, he couldn’t break his way in without risking collapsing the street above onto his beloved sidekick. No, we were fine for now. All I had to do now was find a way to crack Cameron open like a nut and get at what was inside…

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” I said as I stepped through into what would act as Cameron’s bedroom for the duration of his stay.

He struggled to push himself up from the bed, his hair adorably floppy, eyes heavy-lidded. “What did you do to me?” he slurred.

“Oh, the net? My uncle Hephaestus made it. Pretty sweet, don’t you think? Such a simple design, even a baby could get out of it, but it was charged up using your own energy against you. Ingenious.” I strolled the length of the cage, arms casually placed behind my back.

“And did Hephaestus know what you intended to do with the net?” he asked, all judgy .

I chuckled. “Oh, dear, sweet, innocent Cameron. Of course he knew. Even the gods have to make a living, but you’ll find that most gods don’t care so much about the fate of humans. You tend to die so quickly, you see. Doesn’t do us any good to get attached.” I struggled to keep my smile as Gorgias came to mind. If only I’d followed my own advice and let him go.

He blinked blearily before rubbing a palm down his face, and the arm he was using to prop himself up wobbled dangerously, threatening to collapse. “You were never really going to kidnap the babies from the hospital, were you?”

“Of course not. Let me guess—Phobos totally bought it. For being my twin, he’s not very smart. He should know me better. I might play the role of villain, but even I have some humanity.” I leaned back against the concrete wall and crossed my arms over my chest, drawing Cameron’s eyes down my body. I maybe flexed a little, angled my hips so the fabric over my crotch stretched over my bulge.

Cameron rolled his eyes and allowed himself to drop back on the pillows. “Right, you just kidnap innocent omegas for your own selfish purposes.”

“Have you already forgotten what I said? The gods don’t care about humans. You’re tools, to be used for our amusement and personal gain. So if I were you, I’d start asking what you can do for me, lest you become obsolete.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he said flatly without even looking at me, then he rolled away to face the wall. It wasn’t a smooth roll, his movements stiff, and he failed to conceal a grunt as he came to rest on his side.

I didn’t particularly like being ignored. I was used to Zeek’s groveling, simpering, begging. Cameron’s indifference was… irritating. I tried to walk around the cage to be in his line of sight, but his eyes were closed, and he was breathing deeply.

“Aren’t you going to fight back?” I asked. “Blast me with some fire or ice? Or it looked like you were carrying an electrical charge back at the hospital. Wanna give me a zap? Come on, give me your best shot.” I hated how needy I sounded.

He sighed, eyes still closed. “Nah, I’m good.”

“You’re no fun,” I grumbled as I stomped petulantly toward the door.

That seemed to strike a nerve, because Cameron sat up and shouted, “Fun? Did you just say fun ?!” He rolled off the bed and stormed over to the bars, shoving his arm through to poke me once in the chest. “How can you possibly think toying with people is fun ? What joy can you possibly get out of holding me here?”

“You being here has nothing to do with joy,” I growled, snapping my teeth close to the bars, leaning down to put my face just inches from his. “You are here in the name of revenge, nothing more. You are going to give me your power, and then I’m going to go send Loki straight to Hell. Only then will I let you go.”

He laughed—actually fucking laughed! “You’re not so different from Loki, you know. You claim to hate him, but I think you must idolize him. You want to be just. Like. Him.” He punctuated the last words by reaching up and tapping my nose, and I felt that tiny touch all the way to my toes.

I tried to slap his hand away, but I wasn’t fast enough. “I am nothing like him!” I snapped, seeing red.

I could feel my pulse behind my eyes, but Cameron didn’t even flinch. “I’m just calling it like I see it. You’re both callous, self-centered assholes who think everyone else is beneath you. ”

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” I spat, even as his words hit home.

He shrugged. “I know that you’ve been kidnapping shifters in order to suck out their power because you’re too weak. Oh yes, Phobos told me all about it. Innocent men, women, and children. And for what? Petty revenge, all because you couldn’t keep your lover satisfied and he decided to give Loki a ride.”

“Fuck you,” I seethed, nostrils flaring, my chest pressed right up against the bars.

His lip curled in a sneer. “I’d only fuck you in your dreams, and even then, you probably couldn’t make me cum.”

I roared in his face, blood pressure spiking. I wanted to reach through the bars and wrap my hands around his neck, squeezing until I felt the bones turn to dust beneath my fingers. I wanted to shake him, throttle him until he begged for me to stop, then I wanted to flip him over and fuck him so hard that he was ruined for all other men. I would make him eat his words.

And that was why I turned and fled, fists clenched at my sides, slamming the door behind me. If I didn’t put some distance between us, I was going to kill that little shit and ruin all my carefully laid plans.

I stalked through the tunnels at random, but no matter how far I got, I swore I could still hear his mocking laughter. I wanted to believe I was a higher being, stronger and smarter than mere mortals, better in every way, but if that were true, then so was everything else he’d said.

The tunnels grew darker as I moved farther from the lair. My heart rate slowed, my temper cooled, and still his words echoed in the recesses of my mind. It wasn’t until my growling stomach echoed off the concrete that I finally headed back.

“I’m nothing like fucking Loki,” I grumbled, digging through the fridge for something to fill the gnawing emptiness inside me, but nothing appealed. This wasn’t just hunger; it was something… more . Something black and oily that stuck to my ribs. The feeling had no name that I could identify, but I didn’t like it.

Popping red grapes into my mouth one by one, I paced the length of the kitchen. In my mind, there were two options here: I could pretend what Cameron had said didn’t bother me, ignore him and move on. Or I could show him what it really meant to be the bad guy.

A strange thrill of nerves twisted my stomach. “Zeek!” I bellowed, abandoning the food on the counter. “Zeek, get in here!” If Cameron wanted a villain, I would give him one.

I heard the patter of Zeek’s shoes as he scurried to my beck and call. He looked clammy and pasty as he lumbered through the door. He bowed low. “You called, most masterful master?”

“I’m hungry , Zeek,” I said darkly, anticipation turning my mouth bone-dry.

He blinked once, then his translucent inner eyelid slid across from the side in an eerie second blink. “Oh… would you like me to make you something? Perhaps an omelet or—”

I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “I’m not hungry for food, you idiot. I want the shifters. All of them. Go prepare them for me.”

“Yes, yes, of course, my lord,” he panted, bowing again as he backed out the door before skittering away down the tunnel.

Cameron thought I was such a bad guy, but so far, I’d been nothing but merciful when it came to the shifters. I never took more than they could recover from, and I always wiped their memories of anything that could be considered traumatic. Well, no more! I would suck those aberrations dry like a juice box, and I would make sure they felt every single second of it.

Pure bullheaded stubbornness drove me, as vile and bitter as toxic waste. As I marched down to the holding cells, I told myself this was what needed to be done. Sure, even their collective power would be nothing more than a drop in the bucket compared to what I could get from Cameron. It was the equivalent of a morning cup of coffee for a pick-me-up, compared to a uranium rod in a nuclear powerplant, but that wasn’t the point. I was sending a message.

But as I turned the corner, I found myself faced with a row of a dozen shifters on their knees, hands cuffed behind their backs, some cowering, some defiant. If I truly wanted to, I could fill this room with the stink of fear, a miasma so toxic they would choke on it, but… innocent or not, this was not the battlefield. These men had not chosen this, I had. And I’d seen enough fear for a thousand lifetimes. I felt my resolve waver.

They weren’t all so innocent as Cameron wanted to believe, I told myself. Some of these shifters were liars or cheaters, abusers or manipulators, villains in their own right. Maybe the world would be better off without them.

I could be considered a hero for making the world a better place. Wouldn’t that show Cameron, I thought with snide humor.

I met the fierce glowing amber eyes of a raccoon shifter halfway down the line, his clenched jaw raised, and I respected his show of bravery. But it was the tear-stained cheeks of a young hedgehog shifter that really struck me. Her eyes were downcast, her sniffles loud in the enclosed space, even over the growls of predators.

“They are r-ready for you, master,” Zeek whimpered, shifting uneasily. Was it just me or did even Zeek seem nervous? A literal demon was uncomfortable with the idea of harming these shifters! Now I felt like a real monster. But wasn’t that what I was trying to prove? That I could be the ultimate supervillain?

I sauntered over to the hedgehog, her skin pale and lank hair creating a curtain around her face. I crouched down and reached for her, and she flinched away, as if trying desperately to curl in on herself, a pointless act in her human form. I shushed her gently and trailed the tip of my finger along her smooth cheek, collecting a salty tear.

When was the last time I cried, I wondered. Or any god I knew, for that matter. This was such a mortal show of weakness, and yet… there was more life in this tiny drop of moisture, more emotion, than what I was able to feel.

“Don’t cry,” I soothed. “You’re safe, little one.” For now .

I rose from my crouch and turned my back on the row of prisoners. “Put them away, Zeek. I’m done with them. Turns out I’m not so hungry after all.”

His tight expression slackened, and his shoulders relaxed away from where they’d inched up to his scabby ears. “You are magnanimous, my lord.”

Magnanimous. I like that.

I left feeling lighter, the jagged edges of that gaping cavity in my chest smoothed over. I’d come down here with only one goal, to prove something to Cameron, but I hadn’t considered a third option. I could be the good guy. Loki wouldn’t have spared those shifters if they stood in the way of what he wanted, I knew that much. His power had waned just as much as the rest of us gods, and if there’d been a quick and easy way for him to get it back, he would’ve done it, no questions asked.

If I really wanted to prove I was nothing like Loki, I could act the angel instead. How hard could it be if Phobos seemed to be able to pull it off. We were twins, after all.

When Zeek had finished locking the shifters back in their cells, he found me in the kitchen, dragging meat and vegetables out of the fridge, the island counter covered in pots and pans. “Uh, sir? How can I be of assistance? ”

I stared down at the mishmash of ingredients I’d pulled out, with no clue what I was supposed to do with them. “Zeek, prepare dinner for our guest,” I said, waving vaguely at the leaning tower of sauce jars. I didn’t know what kinds of food he liked, but he couldn’t afford to be picky. He was behind bars, after all. He would eat what I gave him.

But then I thought of Cameron struggling to move in bed. “Maybe something… healing,” I said after a moment. “What do humans eat when they’re sick?”

Zeek’s unibrow curved downward in contemplation. “Soup?” he guessed.

I pointed a finger at him. “Yes, that. Make soup.”

After half an hour of supervision, the soup was ready, and I strutted back into his quarters, tray in hand. It smelled divine. Zeek didn’t have many redeeming qualities, but he was one hell of a cook. “Cameron, dinner time.”

He didn’t stir from where he was curled up under the blankets. “I’m not hungry,” he mumbled. His breathing was slow and labored, and there was a damp sheen to his skin I didn’t like.

I glared at him. “You’re lying.”

Cameron’s sigh was tight. “I’m not lying, just not telling you everything.” He peeled his eyelids open, the whites bloodshot with spidery, red veins, his pupils blown wide. “And no offense, Deimos, but you don’t deserve the truth.”

I pursed my lips, then grabbed a chair and dragged it over as close as I could get to the bars, dropping myself to eye level. Whatever was wrong with him, he’d been hiding it well—but why and for how long?

“And why not tell me?” I asked boldly, leaning forward and propping my elbows on my knees. “I’m not your boss or coworker, your friend, your family. I’m certainly not your lover. So why not tell me? Why not crack open that tightly guarded vault you have and spill all your dirty, little secrets? You called me a villain. You don’t care what I think of you, so why not?”

He watched me silently for a long moment, and I felt a flicker of misplaced hope. I wanted him to confide in me, wanted to know all these secrets he’d been keeping from my brother.

When Cameron finally spoke, his voice was so quiet and rough that I had to hold my breath to hear his words. “Sometimes I feel like my body isn’t mine. Like I’m nothing but a parasite being rejected by its host.” He licked his dry, cracked lips. “It’s a strange feeling… knowing I have enough energy inside me to light up the eastern seaboard, but at the same time, I can’t even get out of bed.” A single tear dripped from the corner of his eye to soak into the pillow, before he pulled the blanket up to cover his face.

I hated seeing him cry. He was so strong, so fierce, and that traitorous tear felt like a betrayal to all that he had shown himself to be. But it was more than that. It tugged at my chest, my cursed heart that had beat for no one but Gorgias in so long. I needed to say something, but what? I was out of practice, interacting with humans and their unpredictable emotions.

“Are you ashamed?” I asked curiously.

“Go away,” he mumbled from under the blanket.

I didn’t go away. Instead, I leaned closer, trying to peek at him through the fabric’s folds. “Gods never feel shame. They are unapologetic about who they are. You should be more like the gods.”

He whipped the blanket down to glare at me. I’d made him mad, but at least he was no longer crying. “But I’m not a god,” he hissed. “If I were a god, I wouldn’t be sick, now would I. Because all you gods are strong and gorgeous and perfect. So fucking perfect. You could never know what it feels like to be broken. ”

“That’s not true. Odin’s son Hodr is blind. Did you know that? He doesn’t let that stop him.” I wouldn’t tell him that Loki had once used his blindness against him, tricking him into shooting Baldur (typical fucking Loki). “Hephaestus, the god who made that net I used to trap you, he was unable to walk as a child. That was why he became a blacksmith. He crafted himself prosthetics to overcome what some would call a weakness, and now his skills are his greatest strength.”

Cameron watched me, his dark eyes glassy but focused. “Is that true?”

I splayed my hands out, showing I had nothing to hide. “I may be many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”

He sniffed, his fingers sneaking up from under the blanket to wipe his cheeks dry. “I don’t think this is something I can learn to live with. Pain and fatigue will never be an asset.”

“Then I suppose we’ll just have to find a way to make you feel better.” I hadn’t meant to say “we,” but once it was out of my mouth, I realized how fitting it was. I might have coveted Cameron’s powers, wanted to use them for my own plans, but it would only be fair that I should play a part in his recovery. A payment, in a way, for what I was about to take. I told myself there was no other reason than that. “What do you need?” I asked. “Anything, just name it.”

Cameron’s hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, and his skin was pale enough to make the light scattering of freckles stand out where they dusted across his cheekbones. “My injection… it’s supposed to stop the disease from getting worse.”

“Okay, that sounds easy. Where do I get it?” I rose from the chair.

He shook his head. “It’s in my room. In the nightstand drawer.”

Oh. Shit. “In Phobos’s mansion. Because you live with my brother,” I clarified, and he nodded. Well, this wouldn’t be quite as easy as running to the pharmacy to pick up some over-the-counter pills, but I would make it happen. “Sure. Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

I just hoped I would still be in one piece.