20. Deimos

Chapter 20

Deimos

Cameron still hadn’t gone home. I’d made sure he knew he could leave whenever he wanted, but there was no way I was about to kick him out of my bed. It had been weeks, and Phobos’s calls had become more frequent as he grew increasingly desperate for news.

“Give me back my sidekick!” he’d shouted when I finally picked up the phone last night; it had almost become a mantra, I’d heard it so many times.

“He’s not mine to give or take. Cameron is his own man, and he’s nobody’s sidekick ,” I’d said with a sneer. “He deserves to be someone’s partner.” I wished I could be the one to stand beside him, but we all knew that would never happen.

That had shut my brother up, and he’d immediately backed down and bid me a chilly good night.

As much as I loved to stick it to my brother, my mood had been in a steady decline since then. That was probably why I decided it was time to put my plans into action .

I glared down at my phone, Loki’s stupid face staring back at me from his Novel social media page, and I waited for the usual searing rage to burn through me. I could feel it inside when I looked for it, but it wasn’t the roaring blaze I’d stoked for the past 300 years. It had dulled down to a bed of warm coals, and when I thought about trying to stir it up again, I found myself reluctant.

Planning his demise didn’t bring me the same satisfaction I’d once felt. I’d lived with the constant anger that it was almost like a best friend, and it felt foreign to be without it—not entirely unwelcome, though, when the golden glow of happiness was what was keeping me warm now.

Because as hard as it was to believe, I was happy .

I almost didn’t recognize the feeling. It was lighter than hatred, more sunshine and roses, the churning in my stomach more excited butterflies than indigestion. The thought of what I was about to do, though, was causing full-on nausea.

“Why won’t you tell me where we’re going tonight?” Cameron asked with a teasing lilt, and I set down my phone, giving him my full attention. I met his gaze in the mirror and shook my head. “How about a hint?” he tried again.

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” I flirted, watching him from my place on the bed, leaning back on the headboard, feet kicked up. I suspected, the way his eyes lit up, that he liked this game. He didn’t really want me to tell him, it was all part of the fun.

I was entranced by the way he buttoned his shirt, his long fingers deft and graceful, and I lost myself for a moment, remembering the way they’d looked while wrapped around my cock. Gone was the clumsy, sluggish man I’d kidnapped two months ago. He was radiating with a healthy glow, his skin rosy, his eyes bright and focused .

“I’m not… overdressed, am I? Or underdressed?” he asked, his reflection arching an eyebrow as he went fishing for crumbs about tonight’s plans.

“I mean, only overdressed in the way that I prefer you naked. Although maybe you should wear your tights, instead. I do love how the Spandex makes your ass look. We could do a little role play… I’ll be the naughty villain, and you can punish me.”

“Very funny,” he said, laughing. Our gazes met and held, and he smirked, his kissable lips tipping up on one side. “Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t be going anywhere but back to bed.”

“So tempting, but I’m afraid we have a reservation that can’t be missed.” I stood and drew him into my arms, planting a slow, sensual kiss on his mouth, before sliding my hand down the back of his pants to find him slick and ready for me.

I allowed him just a taste, inserting the tip of my finger, before pulling back, making him groan in frustration.

“You’re such a tease,” he griped, but he should’ve known by now, I was a man of my word; I always delivered.

I gave him one last gentle kiss before turning and heading for the door. “I’ll be back, I have to make a quick phone call. You’d better hurry and get yourself a fresh pair of pants. Those ones appear to be a bit… damp.”

“And whose fault is that?” he sassed as I walked out the door, but I didn’t look back—I couldn’t. Because if I saw him looking all sweet and sexy, blushing the way I knew he was, then I might’ve wavered in my plans, and that was no longer an option. There was no turning back.

Already, I could feel my walls going back up, brick by brick, and a chill had begun to spread through me. I was bracing myself for the farewell I knew was coming .

I was pulling out my phone as I rounded the corner, and I wasn’t watching where I was going, so I nearly ran into the hunched figure there. “Gah! Zeek, what the fuck! Why are you lurking?”

He tilted his pasty face up, and I was surprised when he looked me straight in the eye; he was usually too terrified to make direct eye contact, opting instead to be more demure and submissive. I’d noticed lately, though, that he was becoming more bold in our interactions. I’d even caught him sneaking back into the tunnels the other night, when he hadn’t asked for permission to leave the lair.

“A-Are you going to hurt him?” he asked, squaring off his shoulders and clenching his jaw.

“Who, Cameron? No, of course not!” I shouldn’t have been so offended by his suggestion, because it was what the old Deimos would’ve done.

A small inner voice whispered that it could be argued that what I was about to do would indeed hurt him, just not in the way Zeek suggested.

“Good, because otherwise I would… I would…” he sputtered, his face turning an unnatural shade of puce.

I bent down and narrowed my eyes at him, spearing him with a sharp warning glare. “You would what?” I snarled.

If I’d expected him to back down, I was sorely mistaken. He drew in a deep breath, pursed his lips, his lone eyebrow dipping in the middle. “I would quit !” he spat.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I seethed, but I knew he was telling the truth. He’d grown quite attached to Cameron while caring for him. I wasn’t angry about his attitude, though; instead, I found a strange swelling of something close to pride rise up within me.

He opened his mouth, and I slapped a hand over it before he could say something he couldn’t take back. “Don’t say something we will both regret.” I closed my eyes and took a deep cleansing breath, trying to ignore the cold, damp flesh under my hand. Then I opened my eyes and straightened, composing myself. “Cameron and I are going for dinner. You may take the night off.”

His eyes widened before suspicion slid in place over his expressions. “I-I can?” I’d never made such an offer before, and he was clearly expecting it to be a trap.

“Yes, of course. Go on, do whatever it is that demons do when they let loose. Just… don’t tell me about it later. I don’t want to know.” I waved him off, then brushed past him before he could divine the motive for my generosity. The truth was, since he’d decided to grow a conscience, I didn’t want him around to witness all that was about to happen.

Once I was out of earshot, I dialed and brought my phone to my ear. He picked up the call mid-ring, but he didn’t say anything. Looked like we were no longer on speaking terms. “Phobos? I’ve decided you can have your sidekick back.”

“Are we there yet?” he asked not for the first time, like a stereotypical child. The maze of tunnels beneath the city was not always the shortest route.

“Just a little further,” I encouraged, tugging him by our joined hands.

Cameron and I finally emerged from the underground entrance, disguised as my private office, straight into the back of La Trattoria del Cuore, the favorite of my recently acquired businesses. It was romantic, with its small tables, low lighting, stone and wood accents, and the large fireplace in the center that I’d chosen to leave when going through renovations.

Instead of being awed or charmed, though, Cameron froze, his feet stuck to the floor when I tried to urge him forward. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” I asked.

“Uh, it’s lovely, just… your brother invited me for dinner here and—”

“Say no more,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to hear about my brother right now. In the end, he always won, but for just this one night, I wanted Cameron to pick me. “Let’s move on to plan B.”

“What’s plan B?” he asked.

In truth, until this very moment, I hadn’t had one. “B is for burgers, obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes like this had been the ace up my sleeve the entire time.

Taking his hand, I marched straight through the dining room, past the sputtering ma?tre ‘d, doing his best to grovel while chasing after us, apologizing for whatever had not been up to my usual standards, then we emerged into the warm night beyond.

Cameron drew in a deep breath, and the hand gripping mine relaxed. It was the perfect night for a stroll, and now that we weren’t in a rush, we slowed our pace and took our time. I savored these last moments, and I could sense Cameron watching me from the corner of my eye, but whatever curiosity he harbored, he didn’t voice it.

We ended up at Burger Bliss Bistro, a tiny hole-in-the-wall family-run restaurant that had been in danger of closing until I came along and bailed them out. I could’ve replaced it with a Starbucks or even bulldozed the building to the ground if I’d wanted, but the truth was, I’d never had food this good—not even at the high-end cuisine establishments I owned. And the owners, well… they’d essentially decided to adopt me because of it.

I pulled open the door and stood aside to usher Cameron inside. “After you.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” he said with a little mock curtsy.

As we stepped through the doorway, we were hit with the most delicious aroma, and I swore I’d never evoked such an erotic sound from Cameron as the moan he gave now. “Sweet baby mother of pearl,” he groaned.

“I suddenly feel very inadequate,” I said with a laugh.

“Ahh! There he is!” Mama Venti said, coming around from behind the counter to squeeze my face between her palms—then she smacked me up the back of the head.

“Ow! What was that for?” I asked, rubbing at my head.

“You haven’t been in to see us in months. You made me and Poppy worry about you! You know better than that.” Cameron’s giggle brought her attention over to him, and she immediately shoved her way between us and guided him with an arm around his shoulders toward my usual table next to the kitchen. “You seem like such a nice boy, surely too good for that lazy bum. Let me introduce you to my grandson.”

“Hey!” I groused, following behind. I knew she was kidding, and beyond that, I knew Cameron wasn’t mine to keep, but it got under my skin all the same.

We sat across from each other at the tiny table with the red-checkered tablecloth, our knees bumping. When we tried to order, Mama simply tutted and told us that she would take care of us, and I knew exactly what that meant.

After she’d hurried back into the kitchen, yelling at Poppy to put some meat on the grill, I loosened my tie and pulled it off, shoving it into my pocket, before leaning across the table toward Cameron. “I hope you’re hungry, because I have experience with her idea of ‘taking care,’ and I might need to carry you home afterward.” Home… My grin threatened to fall when I realized what I’d said, but Cam didn’t seem to notice.

“Thank you for doing this. I know you had a nice dinner planned. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“Nah, you didn’t ruin anything. In fact, I think this is an improvement.”

Cameron’s eyes softened as he reached the short distance to take my hand. “I’ve never seen this side of you before.”

“And what side is that?” I asked, guarded.

“The nice one.” His smile grew, and I felt his words sink into me like claws. “I think I like it.”

This was a bad idea. I’d only been thinking that I wanted to share my favorite restaurant with him, but now I felt like I was walking through a minefield while wearing wide-toed clown shoes. I was trying to cut ties, not entangle us further together.

I reminded myself of all the things my father drilled into me. That kindness meant weakness, that generosity made men easy to take advantage of.

That love had no place in war…

The rest of our meal was spent in increasingly chilly silence. Cameron did his best to engage me in conversation, but I didn’t want to talk— couldn’t talk—and eventually, he gave up trying. My throat had begun to tighten like it was caught in a noose. One way or another, losing Cameron had always been inevitable.

I could tell Mama was worried too, since I’d barely touched my food, but instead of her usual good-natured ribbing about needing to fatten me up, that I was practically wasting away to nothing, she took one look at my face and saw something dark… something dreadful . She shrank away from me, as did the other patrons as we left the restaurant.

As we walked out, I shoved through the door first, not bothering to hold it open for Cameron. I didn’t reach for him or guide him with a hand at the base of his spine. He didn’t let me get away with that behavior, though. He jogged to catch up with me and took my hand, and when I let a trickle of fear out, he only held on tighter.

“I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work,” he said.

“And what is it you think I’m doing?” I snapped, setting a brisk pace, my long legs forcing him to take two steps for every one of mine.

“You’re trying to push me away. I just don’t know why.” I could hear the strain in his voice, feel the clammy sweat begin to form on his palm in mine as he absorbed my unnatural gift. Why wouldn’t he just let me go?

I stopped abruptly and turned to him. His face was pale and shiny, the lines around his eyes tight, visible signs that he was fighting against my influence. It nearly killed me, but I dialed it up another notch until his legs began to shake. I didn’t want to lose Cameron, but this was something I needed to do. For Gorgias, for the future stolen from me.

Setting my hands on his shoulders, I stepped back from him, even as every fiber of my being told me to hold him close. “Go back to Phobos. He’ll treat you better than I ever could.”

“What? Why?” he asked, his throat working hard to swallow around the boulder I knew must’ve been lodged in there. I’d never seen someone resist this level of my dread since Achilles. Why did this sweet man have to be so damn brave?

“What do you mean why ?” I asked bluntly. I gestured down at myself with the sweep of a hand. “Look at me. I’m the bad guy! I do what I want, take what I want. I hurt people, and I don’t even feel guilty about it! But you… you’re meant to be with the hero, not the villain.”

He shook his head hard enough to dislodge a tear, painting a line down his cheek. “You obviously don’t see yourself as I do. I see a man who helped me face my demons, even when there was nothing for him to gain. A man who helps a senior couple keep their business, not because he’ll turn a profit but because you genuinely like them. And you’re a man I… I need ,” he pleaded, gripping my lapels in his fists, his eyes wild.

I nearly buckled under the weight of regret. “No, I’ve thought about how I can still help you siphon your power, even after—”

He slapped my chest hard enough to sting. “I don’t need you because of my illness, stupid! I need you because I love you!”

Everything stood still for one moment, and hope fluttered to life like a flickering match keeping the darkest night at bay, but I strengthened my resolve. “You don’t love me,” I insisted, shaking my head sadly. “You only think you do. It’s okay, I understand the confusion you must be feeling. I made you feel better and—"

“Stop it! Tell me you don’t love me too. Say it.” His eyes flashed dangerously, and if he’d had any power left in him, I had a feeling I would’ve been paying the price.

I opened my mouth to refute it, but the words wouldn’t form. “I can’t love you,” I told him instead, not the same thing but close enough.

I would never get another chance like this. Dammit, why the hell wouldn’t he just walk away?

Closing my eyes, I stepped closer to him, and when I opened them again, he looked so damn hopeful, and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “You won’t even miss me…” I brushed my fingertips across his temple, and he gasped.

I forced myself to keep staring into his eyes; I wanted to see the moment he realized what I was about to do, so I could remember the betrayal when I thought about crawling back to him and begging for his forgiveness.

“Stop! Don’t—” he began, trying to pull away, but it was too late. I was already sifting through his memories to remove all but the worst parts of me. When I was through, he would go back to hating me… the way it was always meant to be.

In the end, it would be me who remembered what we could’ve had, who took the lion’s share of the grief. Three hundred years ago, after losing Gorgias, I’d sworn that I would do whatever necessary to get my revenge, and I told myself that it was worth it.

It had to be.