Hallowed Night: A Halloween Romance Anthology, page 25
The skull-masked man’s gaze lifts to the rest of the group. “We know who you are. We picked you for a reason. And if you put on a show… the afterparty surely won’t suck.”
“With me,” Ares says.
He leads us back into the building, newly dubbed Olympus. And now I see it: the way it resembles a pantheon from ancient Greece. Something straight out of mythology. The marble columns, the carvings in the walls. The feeling of something much more impressive than myself emanates from the place.
“Think of something to call yourselves,” Ares suggests. We stop in a large training room. “Something apart from yourself. Be who you want to be tonight. A god—or goddess—amongst men.”
I nod to myself.
Be who I want.
But who is that?
When I was a child, my grandmother used to say I had darkness in me. She was the superstitious type. She’d cross herself when she saw a black cat, toss salt over her left shoulder. Kept a horseshoe hung open-side-up above her front door. A random collection of old wives’ tales seemed to have taken over her life.
She was old and weathered when I was young and untamed. As such, my visits with her had to be supervised by a parent, or at least someone willing to attempt to keep up with me. It didn’t help when I vanished for two days in high school. She, along with everyone else, thought it wasn’t sinister—just my own wildness getting the best of me.
But now her oddities come back to me. How she would laugh and cup my cheek when we were alone. Oh, sweet girl. Your name means light, but I see unfettered darkness behind your eyes. Who made you this way?
I don’t recall seeing her much after that.
But I focus on that dark spot she must’ve sensed. The secret hunger for violence I’ve kept under lock and key.
What’s the opposite of light? In this weird, twisted world Ares and his brothers have created?
Tem follows me to a shelf of bandages. She watches me wrap my knuckles, then grins. “You know what you’re doing.”
I shrug. I’ve been hanging out at the local fighting gym for ages, sneaking in lessons with the owner when he has no-shows. It hasn’t been a lot, but what I do have is a lot of time under my belt. Usually with pads on my hands, absorbing punches from the taller, older boxers.
Guys with a lot more potential than me.
“Which one are you?” I finally ask her. Since she seems to not be going away. “Which god did you choose?”
“Artemis,” she says. “Goddess of the hunt.”
I hum.
“It’s my real name,” she confesses, stepping closer. She helps me tuck the tail of the wrap into itself, keeping it tight. “My parents must’ve named me this for a reason, you know? So I may as well make the most of it. I go by Tem to seem more normal.”
“Sure.”
“And you? Did you decide?”
“I did.” But I’m not ready to reveal my choice.
I think back to the invitation I received. One-on-one fights with no rules. Debauchery. Bloodshed.
Part of me hopes that I don’t have to go against Tem. She seems nice.
She must sense my hesitation, because she glances away. “Let’s warm up.”
3
8:20PM
The crowd is loud. The noise began almost fifteen minutes ago. The skull-masked man was Hades. Which left the third host, Apollo. He went out and made a speech on the front staircase and introduced his brothers. Hades. Ares. Him. Three powerful gods amongst men.
Well, that’s the vibe, anyway.
Ares lines us up and has us pick numbers from a cup. It determines who we’re fighting and when. There are eight of us here, which means four fights. Besides Tem and me, there are two other women, but they aren’t separating us by gender.
This is going to be chaos.
I question my sanity when I draw a number. My fingers curl around the paper, and Ares glares down at me until I show him.
Number four.
The last fight.
“Better make it a good finale,” he tells me.
I glance down the line. Tem and one other woman have drawn already. The last chooses and shows him, but I catch the two scrawled on her paper.
I swallow.
The last man to pull is a hulk. Easily double my weight, and he towers over Ares. If you put us together, I am probably eye-level with his armpit.
My stomach flips.
“Four,” he declares. He grins at me. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. After we give them a show, I’ll put you out of your misery.”
My apprehension grows. He wants to toy with his food before eating it.
Ares clears his throat. “First pair, come with me. Everyone else… behave.”
Tem pats my shoulder and disappears with Ares. A man follows. The crowd cheers, and I go back to the jump rope. My mind filters through the random collection of lessons I’ve received over the years, but it all seems insignificant.
I wanted to be strong to protect myself on the street and so I wouldn’t be a victim again.
But here, I am so totally out of my element.
Yet… I don’t leave. There’s still time to bail, and I don’t do that. I eye my opponent across the room and try to find a weakness. He doesn’t give anything away, not behind that mask, and not in his movements.
A favor.
A chance to do something with my life instead of slink home.
I enter a zone. My mind clears. The next few fights seem to fly by, and then it’s just me and my opponent.
Ares enters. “Name?” he barks at the man.
He straightens and leers. “Hercules.”
Ares rolls his eyes. “Great. And you?”
I throw my shoulders back. “Nyx.”
Ares gives me a wolf grin. “Nyx. Good choice. Let’s go, then.”
Down the hall, toward the large second room Tem and I went through. The one with the balconies and raised platform, and the one now packed with bodies. Masked men and women dressed in lavish finery. Their masks are outlandish, some with giant feathers, others with sequins or jewels.
I can imagine over time how they might reshape Olympus into exactly the thing they want it to be. How people will fall in line to mimic the Greek mythology theme.
I pause in the entrance as Ares joins Apollo on the platform and cast a more critical glance around the room. My skin prickles, like I have eyes on me even from the shadows. I lock on to a man up on one of the balconies. He’s still and silent, unlike everyone around him. And his gaze seems to be on me.
They announce Hercules, and the brutish man hits my shoulder on his way past. The crowd parts for him. And then my name is being announced, the booming voice of Apollo carrying over the noise.
I raise my eyebrows at the man, then break contact and stride forward.
Apollo stands beside Hercules, both eyes and the left side of his face are entirely covered by a mask that resembles tree bark. His suit jacket is open, no shirt in sight. It automatically sets him apart from the people around him.
Interesting.
He’s still speaking, his lips moving, but I can’t hear it. I’ve tunneled in on the path I need to walk and the man I’ll be fighting. I shake out my limbs.
I need this more than him.
I need this more than any of them.
A desperate girl. Hades was right about that.
“Rules?” I ask Apollo once I’m on the platform. I already know the answer, but I want the reassurance a groin shot isn’t going to get me kicked out. If it comes to that.
The footing has a little give to it. I test it out, shifting my weight, and wait for his answer.
“None.”
A dirty fight.
My blood sings under my skin.
Apollo hops down, and Hercules leers at me. Again.
I ball my fists and step to the side, circling him. He mirrors my movements, but it isn’t long before he darts forward and tests the waters—or maybe intimidation is just his chosen strategy.
I’d go that route, too, if my opponent was a hundred pounds lighter than me. Or if I had more courage.
His reach is long—longer than I anticipated initially. I jerk back, avoiding the jaw-shattering hit, but he still catches my chin with his knuckles. My head snaps to the side, and I let the pain flow through me.
Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.
He grunts and rushes me. I duck, weaving close to him and managing a quick jab to his side before I’m around him and clear.
Giant and slow.
Good.
His fall will be a thunderclap.
The platform is suddenly superimposed with a dark forest and the feel of dread. I slap my own cheek to snap myself back into it.
Gritting my teeth, I realize it’s my turn to attack. I have to before he figures out he can just keep rushing me and probably get lucky. I fake a punch, then again, and whip my foot out. I catch him in the stomach.
His fingers dig into my ankle, and he meets my eyes a second before he yanks. I fall onto my back, the wind knocked out of me, and I gag on nothing. He throws himself forward.
I have just a split second to roll to the side, or else he would’ve crushed me.
Fucker.
I kick his thigh while we’re both on the floor, then scramble to my feet. His fist catches me in the mouth. I go down to my knee again, then drive forward. My shoulder goes into his stomach, and I rapid-fire pummel his back with my fists. Kidney shots.
And then I bring my knee up, slamming it between his legs.
He lets out a hoarse oof. His grip on me slides away, and he falls to his knees.
I step away and watch him for a moment, then shake myself out of it. This isn’t the time for chivalry. This is when I need to press it.
He gets one foot under him when I return, forcing him to lift his arms and protect his face from my hits. On his knee, he’s more my height. I box him on the ear, then smash my fist into his nose. The crunch is satisfying, and only a moment later, blood pours down his face.
I don’t stop.
I won’t stop.
That dark thing my grandmother saw in me roars up and out. I see red.
His fist connects, but I ignore the sharp punch of pain to my side. A solid kick to his head knocks him onto his ass. I climb over him and pin his arms with my legs, straddling his chest. A grown man should be able to throw me off, but he can’t seem to get his body to move the way it needs to. I keep punching his face until he goes limp, and only stop when someone hauls me backward.
My feet catch under me, my legs solid, and someone rips my arm into the air.
Apollo’s hand holds my balled fist up.
It’s only then that I realize the crowd is screaming—but not out of fear. They’re wild with excitement.
“Nyx, our goddess of the night,” Apollo yells.
Two men come forward and drag Hercules away. They tap his cheeks on the edge of the platform until he sits up and wipes across his mouth.
I meet his gaze and incline my chin.
He grins a pink-toothed smile at me, then lumbers to his feet. The men help him down and away, while Apollo parades me in a slow circle. He eventually releases my arm, and I take a moment to touch my own bloodied nose. My adrenaline has created a buzzing through my body, blocking out the pain that will surely hit me soon.
“You’re owed a favor,” he says to me.
Ares and Hades climb the steps and stop in front of me.
I lick my lips and glance around.
In that moment, I want to go again. To fight someone else.
It might’ve been pure luck that I succeeded against Hercules. It might be insanity to want a repeat.
Hades grabs my wrist and pushes a wad of cash into my hand. He curls my fingers around it, then lets go.
I glance down at the stack of hundred dollar bills.
Too many of them.
My favor… I might’ve asked for money. They could’ve easily let me ask for money.
“Well?” Ares asks. “Now or never.”
“I want more.”
Hades’ eyes light up. As nonspecific as that is, he understands. He smiles—a true one this time. Maybe he likes being surprised. “Done.”
4
9:10PM
I’ve lost Artemis—and anyone familiar, actually.
The party spreads out from Olympus, groups of people clustered all the way up toward the cliffs. There are fairy lights staked into the ground. A bar, a keg. Two bonfires, one up close and the other a fair distance away, near the tree line. A DJ blasts music on a stage lit up with neon lights.
The huge doors into Olympus are thrown open wide, spilling more light across the wide steps.
Even though it’s been a while since I’d seen a familiar face, I’ve been surrounded. I’m getting sick of saying thank you to the endless congratulations. From the wonder in their eyes to the hesitancy. After all, if I could drop Hercules, what else could I do?
Their trepidation doesn’t make me feel any better, though.
I take another gulp of my mixed drink and drain the cup. I crush it in my hand.
“It was just so brave,” a guy says to me. “I mean, I train professionally and even I would’ve been wetting my pants against that guy.”
I force a smile. “Charming.”
“I think our fighter tires of your conversation.” Hades steps up beside me. “Right, Nyx?”
The guy holds up his hands in surrender. “If the lord of the underworld commands it…” He backs away before Hades can reply, and we watch him hightail it out of our sight.
“You have an effect on people,” I comment.
He grins, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. His mask is chilling, and his cold gaze only makes him more mysterious. He, like Apollo and Ares, isn’t totally dressed up. His white collared shirt is unbuttoned at the top and tucked into his black slacks. Business casual, I suppose. Plus a skull mask.
He offers his arm, and I take it. I’m not sure why—he isn’t my type. Tall, dark, and mysterious? No thanks. Besides, my hormones turned off the second the hosts claimed they were worse than the gangs.
I’ve avoided the Titans and the Hell Hounds for almost nineteen years—I don’t need one stupid night at Olympus to become entangled in something far worse.
“I wondered if wanting more referred to your life in general, or simply this evening.”
I glance up at him. We slip through the people, making our way toward the cliff.
My heart skips a beat.
“All of it,” I answer slowly. “I just… Part of me wants to get out of this town and never come back. But a bigger part just wants Sterling Falls to feel like home.”
Because even though my parents are never leaving this place, I’ve always felt like an outsider. Maybe it was trauma. Or the dark stain on my soul that my grandmother always saw. Or…
“Judging tonight’s fights, I know two things for certain. One, these events will continue. The fights, the illusions. And two, you will fight again.” Hades dips his head.
“It might’ve just been luck.”
He smiles like he has a secret. “Perhaps it was luck. Or adrenaline. Or your desperation to prove something to yourself—and everyone else.”
There’s that word again—desperation.
He could be right.
“Besides, I think you might take that cash and invest it back into yourself. Don’t you think?” He stops us at the edge of the cliff.
I failed to notice how close to the drop-off we were getting. But now, I scuff my feet, and pebbles shower down the rock face. They disappear into the darkness before they hit the water. The rushing sound is louder now, the shush of waves rolling forward and the crack of them pounding the pointed cliffside. The larger waves are more spread out, leaving gaps in the break. To the left, the cliff curves back toward Olympus. It creates a little pocket of calmer water down below, protected from most of the waves coming up from the south.
“Here’s a piece of your more, Nyx.” Hades turns me.
A man comes forward. His mask is black and simple, like mine. I can’t see any more of his face in the shadows. Just a strong, lean body. White shirt, the cuffs rolled back to expose his forearms. Dark pants.
“What do you—?”
“Enjoy your evening,” Hades says in my ear.
He drops my arm and takes a step to the side. Then another. He watches me for a moment, then strides away.
What?
“You fought beautifully,” the man says. He seems familiar, but I can’t place him with most of his face covered.
I scoff at the compliment. Beautiful might be a stretch.
“Like a savage.”
I step forward. “And what do you know of savagery?”
He smiles. “I know I dream of it sometimes, but it’s always out of reach.”
Ah. That hits too close to home. He’s put a new name to that wild, off-center feeling in my chest. Not just darkness, but savagery, as he says. I can’t decide if that’s better or worse.
“You got there easily.” He comes into my space. He’s taller than I first thought. Taller than the three Olympus hosts.
I have to tip my head back to meet his gaze. And once he’s close enough to touch, I can see how he’s looking at me.
It’s a way I don’t think I’ve ever been looked at before, except tonight.
“How do you find it?” There’s a weird pulse in my chest, separate from my heartbeat. I shouldn’t have this automatic reaction to him. I’ve never felt that for anyone, let alone a masked man on the edge of a cliff.
He inches closer. “I do crazy things.”
I understand that. This was my crazy thing. Sneaking out at night, breaking the law, going against my parents—none of that did it.
But the surge of blood in my veins? And the electricity I felt flood through me when Hercules bled?
