He’d recognized her at first glance, his little witch. There was no mistaking those pale green eyes, so intense when they fixed on him. In both lives, she’d been manipulated and used by her family for her power. The first time, they’d made her build his prison, before promptly destroying it, lest she be tempted to undo her handiwork. Maybe that betrayal was why Greer had fought so hard against their influence in her new incarnation. Greer was stronger than Aurora. His Rora had been sweet, shy, innocent. When he’d felt her soul attach itself to him, Eirikr had wondered why the Fates had been so cruel as to give him a woman he could break. There had been no such thought when he’d seen Greer. She bore scars under her skin, and she’d survived them. She was strong enough to defend her house, her family, her mate. She was his equal.
And now she was dead.
Greer could not stay dead. He would not allow it.
Not again.
The wind picked up and mist gathered in the highlands—unnatural mist, tinged with the scent of ashes.
Eirikr waited, believing he was ready for anything.
He was wrong.
4
TRUST
Greer’s head rested on the cool metal holding her captive, panting.
She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t belong here. Something had gone terribly wrong. She was supposed to face Hades’ judges of the dead. She’d even take Osiris over this, though getting her heart ripped out and weighed against the feather of Ma’at didn’t exactly sound like fun either.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here. Days. Hours. Minutes. It felt like a lifetime, and no time at all.
Greer tried again. With all her might, all her strength, she called to the one resource she was able to use now: air.
Nothing.
She didn’t want to face what it meant—the fact that she could sense air but couldn’t access it at all.
Not yet. She wasn’t ready to give up hope. She wasn’t ready to give up power.
Even the echo of it.
“Please,” she whispered into the void.
But there was no answer.
She was alone.
Another minute of eternity later, she moved her forehead from the wall and lifted her eyes skyward. Or upward, in any case.
Greer braced her hands on either side of the wall, then her feet. Upper body tensed, she pushed her herself up, climbing an inch or two off the floor. Next, she brought her left leg a foot higher, then the right. Shit, she should have done more core work out in her living days.
Another step, and a third, and a fourth. Her muscles screamed in agony, but she was making progress, getting a little higher. Greer took a moment to rest, though rest wasn’t the right word, as she had to keep tensed just to stay where she was. Then she tried another step, but her foot hit the wrong angle and slipped. She screamed as she lost her balance and fell, hitting her head against the wall in the process.
Back at the bottom, she winced. Her head seriously hurt. Could dead people get concussions? Certainly felt like it.
Greer remained in the same position, curled up at an odd angle, breathing through the pain.
One more minute. Just one more minute.
Then she was going to get up and get back to work.
Rage. Anger. And the smallest hint of fear based on that core memory he’d never forget. He’d never forgive. Fangs closing on his neck and ripping his flesh apart. The taste of copper in his mouth was the last memory of Eirikr Primerius before his mortal flesh died. That, and the maniacal laugh of a demented monster.
And after all this time, she was here, in front of him. His greatest enemy. His maker.
“You.” Eirikr’s lips curled over his teeth.
Ariadne was a beauty beyond words, no different than the first time he’d seen her, though she wasn’t covered in blood today. Her Grecian dress shone like it was made of liquid gold. Which it might be. She was vain enough for that.
"Child.” Her voice was honey and spice, beautiful and pure.
Looking at her now, Eirikr could understand how she’d ensnared a god. Her tanned skin gleamed, her eyes shone like amber, and her hair was a raven waterfall.
No. Anyone but her. Anyone but this.
“I see so much righteous hatred in your eyes.” She was speaking, and every word sounded like a song.
Eirikr strained to remain calm, though he’d love nothing more than to step into the circle and tear Ariadne apart.
He’d done that twice. The problem with goddesses was that they were hard to kill.
“I’m not who you think I am, child,” the monster said.
His jaw ticked. “Treachery. How surprising.” He snorted. “In your mortal days, you betrayed your family because you took a fancy to some stranger. Then, you betrayed your husband Theseus when you caught the eye of a worthier predator. Do you do anything except lie, destroy and ruin everything around you?”
Ariadne tilted her head. “A comprehensive summary of your maker’s achievements. I am not Ariadne, child.”
Right.
Eirikr unsheathed the dagger at his belt. Cutting her up into a thousand pieces wouldn’t actually work for very long…but how satisfying it would be.
She raised one dainty hand, shaking her head.
“I am Athena, goddess of wisdom. When called into this world, I am cursed to wear the face of the greatest enemy of whomever I address, so that they will never heed my council, but hear the truth, child. In the confines of your prison, you could have turned to despair, to rage, and desired nothing but revenge and destruction. Instead, you filled your heart with knowledge. And now, in freedom, you seek more truth. I will aid you, provided it is in my power. I will guide your steps and shield you from danger. So long as you let me.”
Eirikr’s ears heard the truth imbuing every word. He couldn’t access this person’s—this thing’s—mind, but every part of him wanted to trust her. Except his eyes.
Ariadne was wicked and evil. She didn’t show her true face to the world, pretending to be a kind and benevolent overseer to the rest of vampirekind, but he knew her. In her early days, she’d been less calculated and guarded. She’d admitted to her desires: Build a world filled with stronger creatures like her, like them, and destroy anything and anyone who opposed them. She’d wanted to tear down the shields between the mortal and immortal realms, so that the gods could travel freely to Earth again, killing, raping, and manipulating humans to their hearts’ content, just so she could be reunited with her Enlightened husband.
“I can feel your strength. You and I, Eirikr. We can accomplish anything.”
Her seductive words had no effect on Eirikr, not after she’d violently killed the hundreds of soldiers sent after her—him included. He’d seen her for what she was. An abomination, selfish and dangerous.
Now he wasn’t sure what he saw at all.
I am cursed to wear the face of the greatest enemy of whomever I address.
An effective curse, if that much was true. However much he wanted to believe her, whatever her mind sensed, he’d always doubt her because of that face.
But what choice did he have? Eirikr had summoned help because he had no idea where to start looking for Greer. There were too many possibilities—and if he wasted time chasing the wrong path, her soul could be claimed before he got back on track.