Home > The Warrior God : A Fated Mates Fantasy Romance(24)

The Warrior God : A Fated Mates Fantasy Romance(24)
Author: Eliza Raine

“That’s a little knife,” he said, holding his own up and twirling it, showing off its size. It was curved, like a scimitar.

“Little knife for a little girl,” I answered, and threw it at him.

He didn’t move fast enough, and it sank into the top of his shoulder as he yelled. The kid sprang to his feet, but before I could feel any sort of relief for his escape, he launched himself at the mob-boss.

“Wait!” I started, then froze as I realized what he was doing. He yanked my knife from where it was deep in the guy’s flesh, avoiding the wild stabbings from the scimitar in the wailing man’s other hand. The kid moved fast, and my stomach lurched as he threw me a backwards glance, then ran.

“Shit!” I raced after him, ducking under the useless swipe from the bleeding mob-boss, and powering after the kid. There was no fucking way I was losing that knife. “Come back, you ungrateful little thief!” I bellowed, as he flew out of the other end of the alley, which I could now regretfully see was not a dead-end after all.

He banked sharply to the left, and I pivoted on the balls of my booted feet, chasing after him. There were more people on the streets here, colored lanterns casting soft light over the glittering walls, and the smells of meat wafting through the air. We were moving toward the bazaars.

I followed the kid through more twisting, turning streets, until we burst into one of the wide courtyards filled with fabric-covered stalls. Panic rushed through me as I took in the sheer number of people and places to hide. If I didn’t catch up to him soon, I would lose him - and my knife - for good.

“I saved your damned life, you shit!” I hollered, forcing more energy into my legs, turning up my speed. How was he so damned quick? Not many people could outrun me. The idea of losing my weapon, the only thing I’d managed to hold onto my whole life, the thing that had saved me countless times, was making anger build inside me, and my vision darker.

My eyes locked on the kid as he slowed down, reaching a three-way crossways between stalls. I watched as his body began to shift, his weight moving from one side to the other, and made a desperate guess at which way he was about to turn. I banked fast to my right, praying he was going to do the same. I could cut him off.

With a surge of speed I flew around the stall, and just as I’d hoped, he barreled straight into me, his head turned to search for me behind him. I swiped at his neck as he stumbled backwards, and he cried out as I gripped him. That familiar bolt of guilt ripped through me as I noticed the already red marks from the mob-boss’ fingers around his throat, but the red mist blocked it out.

“Give me my fucking knife back, now!” I roared, as I lifted him up. He was taller than me, but my grip was iron, and his feet scrabbled on the ground as he beat at my hand with his. “I can keep this up all night, kid. Give me back my property.” When purple began to tinge his face, he finally reached into his hareem pants pocket, and pulled out my flick-blade. I held out my other hand and he dropped it into my palm. I let go instantly. “I was trying to help you, and you stole from me. What gives?”

“I don’t need your help,” he croaked, backing away from me. eyes red.

“It kinda looked like you did, kid.”

“He was right. You’re not from round here,” he spat, then turned and raced away, into the crowd. I cocked my head after him. This place really was full of tough people.

No vigilantes required.

And still no friends for me.

“I’m pleased you recovered your knife without killing anyone.” Zeeva’s voice sounded in my head and I scanned the ground for her, spotting her prowling from behind a stall selling meat skewers.

“Why would I kill someone?” I answered her, shoving the flick-blade possessively into my pocket. “And why was he such a shit?”

“Even those with good in their hearts are different in the realm of war.”

“Huh. Well, I’m glad you’re here. I have no idea where I am.”

 

 

17

 

 

Bella

 

 

All the way back to the caravanserai I asked Zeeva questions, and all her answers were vague and unhelpful.

“As I told you, the longer you are in Olympus, the more of your power will be accessible to you. I am guessing being in this violent place may speed things up.” I could hear the distaste in her voice, and wondered briefly what Hera’s realm was like compared to this one. But I dismissed the question in favor of more useful ones.

“If I get more power will I still be human?”

“Right now you would be termed a weak demigod. Mostly human, with some divine power. The stronger you get, the higher class demigod you will become. I do not know if it is possible for you to lose enough of your humanity to become a full goddess.”

“But if I started out as the Goddess of War, with the same power as one of the twelve Olympians, how the hell did I become human?”

Zeeva didn’t answer me for a long time, silently stalking through the busy streets. “The story of your origin is not mine to tell. And I could not tell it fully, even if I wanted to.”

“The story of my origin?” I repeated, glaring down at her. “You make me sound like a fucking super-hero.” Despite being accused of being a vigilante once already that day, I couldn’t see myself wearing a cape and fighting crime.

Perhaps super-villain would be more fun.

“You are no hero, Bella. But you could be something. Something more than you could ever have been in the mortal world.”

“I know,” I said quietly. And I did know. I knew it to my core. I was meant to be here. I belonged in a world where even the good guys were dicks.

 

 

When I finally reached the place I was staying I was still buzzing with energy. A woman with tree-bark skin was standing in a grand hall hung with luxurious burgundy and gold fabrics and an enormous staircase stretching up the center of it. The woman smiled when I told her who I was, and gave me a small orb that shone ruby red. I followed her up the impressive staircase and was sure that we must be at the top by the time she stopped and pointed to a door. A small round hole in the center of it glowed red, and I looked at the orb in my hand, then at the tree-woman. She nodded at me, leaf green hair falling over her shoulders. Hesitantly, I pushed the orb into the hole and there was a little click, and the stone door swung open. The red orb popped suddenly back into my hand.

“Huh,” I said. “Thanks. Do you know which room my friend is in?”

She nodded mutely at the door next to mine, then turned and made her way back down the stairs.

I knew Ares wouldn’t want to see me. But I had questions for him, both about my power, and about whatever it was we would be doing the next day. So instead of entering my room, I strode to his door, and knocked loudly.

“No!” came the immediate shout.

“I need to talk to you,” I said through the door. There was silence, followed by a thud, and then the door opened abruptly.

“The terms will be set out by Pain tomorrow. There is nothing I can tell you now.”

“Erm, I was kidding when I said about you sleeping in the helmet,” I frowned, staring up at his gleaming gold-covered head. I squashed an urge to reach up and flick the red plume.

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