The Warrior God (The Ares Trials #1) - Eliza Raine Page 0,16

I could learn magic.

If Ares could use it, then so could I.

I just had to find a way of getting him to tell me where to start.

7

Bella

When I stepped back into my kitchen, which somewhat impossibly looked even smaller with the enormous god squished into it, Ares grunted and locked his eyes on mine. The red plume of his helmet was flattened against the grubby ceiling, and I failed to suppress a smirk. He looked ridiculous.

“Why do you live here?”

“It’s all I could afford that came with a free punch-bag.”

“Afford? You pay money to reside in this... box?”

“Jeez, you’re clueless. Yes, armor-boy, I pay money to live here. Is Olympus rent-free?” The last question came out more hopefully than sarcastic.

Ares shifted his weight, looking disdainfully at my splintered gray cupboards. “In my realm you live under the rules of your Lord or King.”

“And how do your Lords and Kings become Lords and Kings?”

Ares shrugged and the metal of his helmet scraped the ceiling at the same time his shoulder plates clanged against the kitchen unit. “The Lords are deities; they are born that way. They delegate power to the Kings.”

“You got any Queens?” I asked. He nodded.

“Many. Hippolyta of the Amazons is my favorite.” His eyes lit up as he spoke her name, and I remembered Persephone saying that that she was his daughter. The thought made me uncomfortable, so although this was the most amicable and useful conversation we’d had so far, I changed the subject.

“You ready to go? I need to find my friend.” Ares’ eyes darkened.

“Always you talk about your friend,” he grumbled.

“Yes. That’s generally what friends do. They give a shit. Do you have tequila in Olympus?” I asked, spying the bottle of booze on the counter behind him, next to the broken kettle.

“What is tequila?”

“My version of nectar of the gods,” I muttered, swiping the bottle and tipping my bag forward to open it. When the tequila was safely stowed inside, I put my hands on my hips, and cast my eyes around the little apartment one last time. There was nothing at all that I would miss here. Which in itself was sad. But it only served to strengthen my resolve. I couldn’t be more ready to move on, even if it was to something mostly unbelievable and very likely lethal. “Let’s go.”

“So... Why are we starting here, in the empty desert?” I asked when the light from the flash cleared from my eyes and I clocked my sandy surroundings again.

“Stop talking,” Ares grunted.

“Hey, if I’m going to do this with you then you have to tell me what’s going on,” I said, as he began to stomp through the sand. “I’m not going to just follow you about like a damned puppy.”

“If you want to survive, and find your godsforsaken friend, then you will do exactly that.” He paused and turned to look at me, something malicious gleaming in his eyes. “You will behave like my pet.”

Anger, hot and real, flushed through me. “Your pet?” I echoed, my voice low.

“Correct.” He nodded, his stupid helmet plume bouncing.

“I am nobody’s fucking pet,” I growled. The red mist slammed down, energy soaring through my veins, filling my muscles.

“You will start by swearing less,” he said.

“I will start by ripping your fucking head off, you overgrown jerk!”

I leaped at him before I could stop myself, and cried out as I hit an invisible wall, bouncing back and landing hard on my ass. Dusty sand flew up around me as I scrabbled to my feet. Never stay down longer than you need to. Ares folded his arms, self-satisfied.

But before I could try flinging myself at him again, I realized something. It wasn’t just my shoulder and hip that had physically felt that wall of power. Something in my gut had too.

With a roar, I launched myself at him again, but dropped low at the last minute, aiming to swipe out his legs. I hit the invisible barrier again, as I expected, but this time I was concentrating. There it was! A flare of something, like a sharp yank on a cord deep in my belly. Was that him accessing my power?

I yelped as I was suddenly lifted off my ass, my distraction by the alien feeling giving Ares the upper-hand. Literally. He had my shirt in his fist like he’d scruffed a dog, and was picking me up off the ground. I struggled and thrashed, half-expecting my shirt to tear, but he set me back down surprisingly