15. A God's Jealousy

"You killed him!" Aphrodite held Adonis' limp body in her arms. His beautiful face was ruined, the skin ripped away from the bone. Aphrodite's tears fell over the mortal's remains, her sobs only inflaming Ares' rage.

"You should have come back to me." He growled, unrepentant.

Aphrodite buried her face against Adonis' neck. She felt the steel edge of Ares' sword against her throat - his anger far from exhausted. "This is the last time you cry for another man in front of me."

She knew of Ares' sword - it had been crafted by the giant Brontes for the purpose of killing immortals. She leant forward, deliberately slicing her neck on the lethal edge. "No!" Ares pulled the blade away – alarmed.

He dropped to his knees and stared, horror-struck, at the golden blood gleaming at Aphrodite's throat. He shuddered in relief when he realised that she hadn't cut deep enough to kill herself. Cradling her against his chest, her tenderly brushed her hair away from her eyes. "You'd die for the loss of a mere mortal?"

"One day, Ares, perhaps you'll understand." She rasped, her eyes swimming with tears. "And when you do, I'll have my revenge."

Ares rose to his feet, carrying Aphrodite in his arms. He shook his head at her.

"I'll love none by you, Aphrodite. Always."

**

Present day,

Fear filled Sage's stomach.

"Ares..." Beads of sweat rolled down her face. "Please."

Immediately, Ares pulled her back inside – setting her down on the carpet. Sage almost wept in relief as she rubbed her aching wrists. She wanted to retreat, but her legs felt weak and Ares hadn't completely released her. He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged.

"I'm not human, Sage." He spoke at last – his voice rough. "I told you – I am violence and brutality." He let her go at last, his eyes full of remorse. "I try to shield you from that, because I love you. But my nature – my true being – you should never forget what it is. What it looks like."

Sage nodded. She'd been warned.

Sage crept as quietly as she could. She'd laid awake in the guest bedroom until the middle of the night. Now, she hoped that Ares would be fast asleep. She groped at her surroundings, blind in the dark, but she didn't dare switch on a light. She just needed to make it to the front door, then she'd –

"I'm curious," a voice purred in the dark. "Where would you run off to? I know where you live and where you work." The light clicked on. Sage straightened nervously and faced Ares. He took her hand and led her to the sofa to sit with him,  rubbing his eyes wearily. "Don't try to run, you're safer here."

"Why? Who's going to hurt me?" Who is worse than you?

"Aphrodite."

Ares stared morosely at the far wall.

"Why?"

"A long time ago, I killed her mortal lover – Adonis. I'd forgotten all about him, until she left that message for me."

"And now she wants to kill me?"

Ares shook his head. "When you die, Eros' love arrow will cease to work. I'll stop loving you. No, Aphrodite won't kill you." He looked across at her, his brooding gaze pinning Sage in place. "She'll hurt you. I've seen how Aphrodite torments the people who cross her. You'll be begging for her to kill you."

Sage shivered.

Ares reached out to tuck a loose curl behind Sage's ear, but she flinched away from his touch. He shut his eyes, wincing from the pain that sliced through his heart. "Go back to bed, Sage."

Sage rose stiffly to her feet. She retreated back to the guest room and Ares heard the click as she locked the door shut behind her. He buried his face in his hands.

If he was a wine god, Sage wouldn't be repulsed like she was now. She wouldn't be scared of his touch.

But it couldn't be. He was the war god – the most despised of all the Olympians. He could inspire fear and loathing, but never love. His heart clenched painfully and he hunched over – too weak to stand.

The next morning, Sage sat on the end of the bed with dark circles under her eyes. She'd been considering her options all night. A knock on the door made her flinch. Expression icy, she stiffened her spine and rose to her feet to pull back the lock. Ares stood in the doorway, his expression wary, and made no move to enter.

"Why didn't you just come in? I know locks can't keep you out." Sage's tone was waspish and Ares grimaced. He hadn't barged his way in because he hadn't wanted to upset her even more.

"I'm sorry about last night."

"Hmm." Sage crossed her arms.

"Are you still thinking of running?"

"I've been considering it," she admitted.

"And?"

She clicked her tongue irritably.

"I have nowhere to run to." After a night of considering her options, she'd had to face one crucial problem. How could she hide from a god? "I'm staying. But I won't fall for you, war god. Me staying doesn't change how I feel. I'm not stupid enough to fall in love with someone whose feelings aren't real."

She turned from him and pulled on her jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to work. I have papers to deliver. You can come along and protect me."

"I'm not a dog." He grumbled, but he was already following her out of the door with every intention of tagging along.

"No," Sage smiled strangely, "I've met a man who's a dog. You're nothing like him."

*

Ares sat at one of the small tables, using a fork to prod his lemon cake slice rather then eating it. How could he make Sage love him? Perhaps, he could steal one of Eros' arrows? If she was hit by a love arrow she'd be as helplessly in love as he was. A sudden hush descended over the café and Ares looked up from his desert.

Three of Skelrun's men had entered the shop – their stance menacing. One took out a flick knife from his pocket and started playing with it. Ares snorted derisively - uninterested.

"Jasper Bellegrade," the guy with the flick knife beckoned.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" Jaz asked, smiling pleasantly at the three young men.

"You haven't paid your fee."

Jaz's smile remained in place, his pearly white teeth glinting as bright as the counters.

"You're correct." He assented. "I haven't, yet. I have another week before the payments due."

"Boss wants it now."

There was a fraction of a pause, as Jaz assessed the three men. He cocked a brow at them.

"Does he? Or is it you who are after your cut?"

Customers were gathering their things, prepared to make a run for it.

"Jaz," Sage hissed at his elbow. She caught his eye and her gaze clearly warned him not to cause any trouble. But Jaz seemed unconcerned. He continued to smile charmingly.

"You'll have your money on payment day. Now," he clapped his hands together, "any tea?"

The lads sniggered.

"I don't think you know who you're dealing with, old man." The one with the flick knife brandished it now – taking a threatening step forward. Jaz caught the lad's wrist.

"You actually ever used that knife, boy?"

The guy cried out, dropping the knife and whimpering as Jaz's vice grip tightened. His friends moved forward to help him but hands clamped down on their shoulders – keeping them in place. They looked around and paled. Ezekiel, the mad dog, was standing behind them – and he looked furious.

"It's shoebill," hissed Cesar – cowering down behind the counter.

Ares frowned and leant forward in his chair, his attention on Sage. Her gaze had locked with Ezekiel's – an understanding passing between them. As Sage stared at Ezekiel, a grateful smile making her eyes shine, Ares rose to his feet. He moved with inhuman speed and came to Sage's side.

Stop looking at him. Why are you smiling at him like that?

Stop smiling.

That old, but familiar, snake of jealousy coiled around the war god's heart.