Avenging (The Rising Series Book 3) Read online

  “Anything, baby.”

  “Promise me you won’t hesitate to seek help.” With tenderness in her eyes, she touched his temple.

  Triton smiled. “You think I’ll need help?”

  Sara shrugged. “We all need help sometimes.”

  “Okay, I promise.”

  A couple of hours later, lying in bed, Sara awoke to the feel of someone creeping into her room. The scent of the salty sea filled her nose. “Smells like you’ve been out for a swim,” she said.

  Xanthus chuckled. “Yeah, we Dagonians plan better in the water.” He slipped under the covers and wrapped Sara in his arms. His warm embrace melted her heart. She never felt safer than when she was being held by Xanthus. A baby began to cry in the next room. “When are Gretchen and Donavan leaving?” she asked.

  “In just a few minutes. It took Kyros a lot to convince Gretchen to go. She was ready to send Donavan off to be watched by her adoptive parents while she stayed and fought.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me a bit.”

  “Yeah, in the end, Kyros was able to convince her that he would have to spend all his energy protecting her at the expense of simply kicking vrykolakas butt.”

  Sara chuckled, picturing it. “I can see that. He’s pretty protective of her.”

  “I know exactly how he feels.”

  “So do you have a plan to keep everyone safe?” she asked.

  “You’re the one we need to keep safe. The rest of us know what to do.”

  “I know you do, but…” Sara’s heart clenched. She might be confident in her own survival tonight, but she had no assurance Xanthus would survive, or the others, for that matter. “I wish you would leave until after the battle is over,” she said.

  “Sara… do you think I would ever even consider leaving you when you’re in danger? Or leave my friends to battle alone?”

  “No. But I’m sure of my survival. The vrykolakas can’t kill me.”

  “No, but they can maim you, torture you, and make you wish you were dead. No honorable warrior would ever leave an innocent woman to suffer at the hands of a monster.”

  Sara nodded. “I just wish…” Her voice choked with emotion as she tucked her head into his chest. “I wish I could see that you’ll be alright.”

  “Sara.” He lifted her chin so that she was looking at him. He looked calm, like her worries were completely unfounded. “I’ve been through hundreds of battles with scarcely a mark to show for it. I’ll be fine. We’ve got things all worked out.”

  She traced her fingers over his chest and over his stomach, thinking about how precious he was to her. He took her hand and held it still.

  “I wouldn’t do that. You need your rest, but if you keep touching me like that, I can promise you that you’ll get no sleep.”

  “I’ve already had a nap.”

  “Sara…” he growled disapprovingly.

  “Please, Xanthus. I need you.” Her voice hitched as she felt tears once again burning in her eyes. She opened her mouth to continue to argue only to find Xanthus covering her mouth with his—cutting her off and stealing her thoughts. The next hour she forgot completely the upcoming battle. She was mindless to everything but the gentle touch of her husband.

  Triton looked at the simple farmhouse and made his plan. The place was hundreds of miles from the ocean’s shore, but he took a side trip to recharge his power. His god-power hummed beneath the surface of his body, anxious to strike.

  Nicole’s life force flickered from the structure—weak. She was injured.

  The beast inside Triton fought to be released. He was beyond furious that the war-god had harmed his wife. Ares had stolen her, mistreated her, manipulated her… His limbs began to grow, his teeth sharpened and elongated, and his mind—

  No!

  He needed his mind sharp. He couldn’t allow his emotions to get out of control. He’d be no help to Nicole if he allowed the beast to take over now. Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing. He could feel himself shrinking down as calmness overcame him.

  They’re here, Dad. It’s time. Sara’s voice spoke in his head, signaling it was time for him to act.

  He felt for Nicole, searching for her. Ah-ha, there she was—upstairs, sleeping. He willed her to his side. Triton could feel her warmth before he opened his eyes. The relief of knowing she was there beside him was overwhelming—that was, until he opened his eyes.

  Ares had crushed her skull. She looked deathly white. Despite knowing the injury would not kill her, his rage was too powerful to suppress completely. But still, before he tore the war-god apart, he needed to make sure Nicole was safe. While he stayed at the farm, he transported Nicole to his newfound grandchild, Iris, and her son Marcus, deep in the Mediterranean Sea—a place far from Ares’ reach.

  Iris. Take care of my wife. She’ll heal on her own. You just need to let her rest.

  Grandfather?

  Yes, it’s me. Please do what I say.

  Okay, I will. I’ll take care of her.

  With Nicole safe, Triton had nothing stopping him from avenging her. It was time Ares faced the consequences of his actions.

  Triton flashed himself to the farmhouse, directly in front of the war-god.

  Ares narrowed his eyes. “Son of Poseidon,” he said simply as he scowled at Triton.

  “Son of a traitor,” Triton replied.

  Ares’ hand shot out and grabbed Triton by the throat. “What lies have you heard?”

  The grip on Triton’s larynx was like a vice, but his rage gave him strength as he peeled Ares’ fingers away from his throat. As soon as he could speak, Triton said, “Your father is a liar and a thief. He deserves to be torn apart and sent to the deepest pit of Tartarus.”

  “The idea is appealing—given I’m next in line for the throne. But I am curious—who did my father steal from?”

  “He stole the throne from the rightful king of the gods, Petros.”

  Ares paled at his words. “Who told you this?” he gasped.

  “I remember everything.”

  “How?”

  “How is not important. I’ve come to do one final thing.”

  Ares eyes widened as he looked toward the staircase.

  “She’s not there,” Triton said.

  “Nikoleta,” Ares breathed. “What have you done with her?”

  “I’ve taken back my wife, you son of a boar.”

  Ares manifested a shield in one hand and a sword in the other and swung. Triton blocked with his own trident, and then struck with a sword in his other hand. Ares blocked the strike with his shield.

  “Your wife?” Ares shouted. “You were only married for two days before she left you for me. She’s been with me ever since. How many times did you sleep with her? Once? Twice? A dozen? It doesn’t matter. I’ve been with her millions of times.”

  “She didn’t leave me—you kidnapped her!” He struck so hard that the war-god flew, crashing through the wall. Triton stepped through the rubble and leapt at Ares, snarling as he swung his sword. The floor seemed far below him, and everything around him had taken on a red hue. The beast had taken over. Ares had also grown. Standing ten feet tall, his muscles bulged, his eyes glowed red, and he roared in anger as he deflected Triton, sending him through the roof and flying over the fields. This was now a battle of mythological monsters fueled by the power of the gods.

  Lying on his back in a crater, Triton crawled out of the hole. He could feel water just below the surface. He reached down and drew it to him. The earth cracked open and a giant wave of water flowed, carrying him up. He looked for Ares and found him charging toward him. Triton threw his trident at the god. Ares ducked and the trident flew past, brushing his hair as it whistled by. “You think she loves you?” Ares asked as he tackled Triton, knocking him to the ground. He struck his face, again and again. With each blow, Triton’s head hit the ground hard. No longer able to control it, water fell and flowed like a flood over the ground. Each strike was like a freight train driving his head
into the mud. “Was it your name she called when she was frightened?” Ares said. “Was it you she reached for in the night?”

  Triton gathered strength, waiting for the right time. Ares paused for a split second, but it was more than enough time for Triton to retaliate. “Yes, it was me she reached for!” Triton said as he exploded, putting a generous amount of power behind his fist. He sent Ares flying up and over in an arc. He landed on the house, and it collapsed around him.

  “You think I haven’t seen my wife since you stole her two thousand years ago?” Triton asked, kneeling down, sinking his hand into the mud. He froze the water as he pulled out his hand, shards of ice forming a mace on his fist. Standing, he stepped forward. “You’re wrong.” Ares stood, his clothes in tatters over his bulging muscles. Triton slammed his foot against the ground, making the ground shake and tremble, causing the water to freeze. Ares had to leap away to avoid losing his footing and falling as the ground cracked beneath his feet.

  Debris cluttered the ground. Triton stomped through it.

  “What are you talking about?” Ares asked.

  “Honolulu,” Triton said simply, letting Ares figure out the details.

  “It was you!” Ares stumbled back, stunned. “Then Nikoleta’s daughter…”

  “…is a powerful goddess—like her mother. Each of them alone is more powerful than you and I combined. Your father’s reign is coming to an end.”

  Ares barked a laugh. “I seriously doubt that. As powerful as your spawn may be, she’s no match for my father. Zeus has been draining the infant offspring of gods and goddesses for years, unlocking their suppressed power and gathering it for his own. He sent their weak, little bodies to live helpless among the humans. Soon, there will be none but me to oppose my father. And I have a plan that will leave me alone, king of the gods.” He dropped down and punched the still-frozen ground, causing it to further split open. “Dead of ages, come to me, rise—”

  “No, you don’t.” Triton interrupted, pointing his hand at the god and narrowing his eyes.

  “Augh!” Ares’ words turned to a cry as he collapsed on his hands and knees. His body shuddered as he growled. “What are you doing to me?” He looked up, sweat flowing down his face like a waterfall, his eyes sinking in.

  “You underestimate me, god of war. You think because I’m a sea-god that I’m not as powerful. You mistake apathy for submission. We sea-gods do not involve ourselves in the affairs on Olympus, not because we are weaker, but because we don’t care what you sky dwellers do. I’ve only been toying with you, war-god. So now that you are learning this valuable lesson, let’s see what else you know,” Triton said. “What element do I command?”

  Ares coughed. “Water,” he said before he vomited, the clear fluid flooding the ground.

  “How well do you think you can battle when your body is as dry as a desert weed?”

  When Ares’ retching stopped, he spoke—his voice raspy. “You son of a snake! You can’t kill me. I’m the son of Zeus!”

  “Actually, I can kill you,” he said, looking to the sky. “Sypher! It’s time.”

  Ares looked confused until he saw a spectral figure flying toward him. Horror washed over his emaciated face. “No!” Ares snarled as he scrambled to his feet and leapt at Triton. Triton lifted his fist, stabbing Ares through his chest with razor-sharp shards of ice.

  Triton slammed Ares to the ground and stepped on his stomach. Ares labored to breathe as Triton applied pressure with his foot. “This is vengeance for what you did to Nikoleta and her father. Your immortal life is now over.”

  Triton chanted, careful to speak every word correctly. Sypher circled Ares and seeped into him. Ares squealed like a boar in the mud and hissed his last words. “Have mercy!”

  In the salt-water pond near the cabin, Xanthus swam, taking position above Sara, who waited below. She was surrounded by sharks—courtesy of Triton. Xanthus could smell Sara’s fear leaking from her pores, tainting the water—a telltale sign that nothing was certain in the outcome of the situation. The other Dagonians, reeking of garlic and armed to the teeth, took positions along the shore of the pond, watching for the vrykolakas approach. Thane and his hellhounds took to the woods, laying in ambush.

  Xanthus surfaced. All seemed calm. The stars twinkled above, and the crescent moon reflected off the surface of the water. Xanthus noticed something odd, a patch of sky where the stars did not shine. Darkness snuffed out the sparkling stars one by one, filling the sky with blackness. The vrykolakas approached from the east.

  “They’re coming,” Straton said, pointing toward the starless sky.

  “Let’s give them a welcome they won’t forget,” Pallas said with a sword and shield in his hands. Garlic oil not only shined over his skin, but he had dozens of cloves hanging off his weapon straps, which crossed his chest and hugged his waist.

  Xanthus smiled. “Do you have enough garlic?”

  Pallas grinned back. “I’m only thinking of the many females who would die if this splendid body were devoured. I have a responsibility to them.”

  Xanthus laughed and shook his head. “Always thinking of others.”

  “I’m glad you all can laugh at a time like this,” Drakōn said. “I, for one, don’t see anything remotely funny in this situation.”

  “That’s where your problem is,” Pallas said. “If you can’t enjoy your work, you need to find a new profession.”

  “I’m sorry to say,” Straton said, “but I agree with Drakōn. This situation is far from funny.”

  “You don’t even need to be here, Doc,” Pallas said. “You’d do better to stay in the cabin and treat the wounded after the battle is over.”

  Straton shook his head. “I may be a doctor, but I’m also a soldier, and I’m just as dangerous as you. Even more so, I’d wager.”

  “Ooh,” Pallas said. “That sounds like a challenge. I’ll bet I can kill more vrykolakas than you.”

  Straton shook his head. “I can’t believe you want to make a bet at a time like this.”

  “Now’s the best time. So are we on?”

  “Well, technically, the vrykolakas are already dead,” Straton said.

  “Alright, I bet I can destroy more than you.”

  Straton gave a hint of a smile. “Fine.”

  “You guys better do less talking and more preparation,” Kyros said, “because they’re almost here.”

  “We haven’t decided on the prize,” Pallas said.

  The wind whipped around them and spread ripples across the water, carrying with it a musty and faintly putrid smell. Xanthus sank below the surface but kept watch on the scene unfolding above. The trees towering above the pond shook as vrykolakas landed on the branches. A single creature landed in front of Kyros. The beast threw his head back and drew in a deep breath through his nose. He lowered his head and narrowed his eyes. Kyros held his ground and raised his sword.

  “Mmm, I can smell your blood… and your fear,” the vrykolakas growled through his sharp teeth. His smile widening as he looked around the pond, his eyes landing on the Dagonians one by one. “Garlic will not save you.” The vrykolakas hissed and laughed. “We will simply have to wash your dead bodies before eating you.”

  “You’re not going to barter with us?” Kyros asked. “Perhaps offer to leave us alive in exchange for the daughter of Nikoleta?”

  Xanthus had to hold himself back from shooting to the surface and roaring out a protest. He knew Kyros did not intend to deliver Sara into their hands, but the mere suggestion had him on the brink of madness. Instead, he forced himself to listen to the creature’s answer.

  The vrykolakas’ wet laughter bellowed as drool dripped over his chin. “By all means, deliver the daughter of Nikoleta to us. But we will drain you of your blood and devour your flesh regardless.”

  Kyros raised his sword, sunk into a crouch, and smiled darkly. “You’re welcome to try.”

  The creature stepped back, smirking as he raised his hand and looked to the trees. “Troo
ps, bring the daughter of Nikoleta to me. She is mine to feast on. You can share the rest. Leave no survivors and leave no evidence. I don’t want to see a single bone littered on the ground.”

  A growl rumbled through the air. Xanthus felt the sound deep in his bones, terror washing over him. The vrykolakas’ head whipped around, his eyes widening in fear.

  From the shadows of the trees, a monster leapt out and slammed the vrykolakas on the ground. It looked like a giant wolf, with prominent jaws and fangs longer than Xanthus’ forearm. The vrykolakas wailed and fought, but the creature made no move to bite his prey. This had to be a hellhound. Xanthus wondered what the creature was waiting for.

  Dark mist poured into the clearing. Moments later, Thane followed. He looked different, transformed into a monster himself. At about nine feet tall, with a long, black cape and wild, glowing eyes—this demigod with power born of the Underworld was unfathomably more frightening than the vrykolakas.

  “Please. Son of Thanatos, have mercy.”

  His laughter rumbled low. “This is how I show mercy.” The demigod of death reached out his long fingers and touched the forehead of the creature. His flesh disintegrated like dry sand, leaving white bone in a pile of black dust.

  The trees erupted as the vrykolakas took flight. They screeched as they flew toward the Dagonians.

  Xanthus wanted to leap from the water and join the fight, but Sara’s safety was too important. Instead, he waited, ready to strike any undead creature that tried to take her.

  The Dagonians fought, slicing their blades, cutting down creature after creature. The trees rumbled with the hellhounds as they, too, attacked the undead beasts. Kyros looked at Xanthus and nodded. Kyros then leapt and grabbed the ankle of a creature, pulling him from the sky. He swung him around as Xanthus swam down and turned to race up. Kyros let go, releasing the vrykolakas as Xanthus shot from the water. He slammed into the creature, catching him midflight and pulled him under. Wrapping his tail around the body, he wrenched on the head. It didn’t take much effort to pull it off the shoulders, decapitating the creature. These undead monsters might appear frightening, but they were more fragile than they looked. Still, their numbers made them formidable.