The Warrior God (The Ares Trials #1) - Eliza Raine Page 0,34
Erimos.
“You just swore,” I said to Ares.
“Hmmm.”
“Do we have to walk back to the city now?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me how to use my power on the way?”
“No.”
As we began trudging back to Erimos, I thought about what Ares had said. He said the Lords of War were ‘directly of his creation’. Did that mean he had literally created them? Or fathered them perhaps? Or just that his godliness came with a side of Pain, Panic and Terror?
I considered asking him, but I had too many other things to straighten out in my head first, and this was probably the only stretch of silence I would have for a while. I had to adjust my game-plan. I was no longer on a demon hunt with the God of War. I was now partaking in three Trials designed to defeat him. Maybe kill him. Could he even die?
I had a lot to add to my ‘questions to ask later’ list, I realized. Like why was my useless cat so keen that I didn’t land Ares in trouble when the Lords showed up? In fact, why was she with us at all? I still had no idea. A bolt of worry for her moved through my chest, and I hoped she had made it out of Pain’s tower safely. The fact that she had been my only pet, and company, in London was impossible to shift, despite her disinclination to tell me anything helpful. Although my many evenings spent stroking her did seem pretty weird now.
I looked up at Ares’ muscular back, his shoulders flexing as his arms swung, his tied ponytail moving against tanned skin. Why am I attracted to a miserable, humorless brute? I should add that to the list of questions.
If I was being honest though, I was lacking evidence that he actually was a brute. My initial impression of him, dressed in armor and wielding a sword over the bleeding body of my only friend, may not have been entirely representative. So far, even when I’d deliberately annoyed him to the point of lashing out, he hadn’t hurt me at all. And as far as I was aware, he’d given up on his notion of wanting to kill me for my power pretty quickly.
He was miserable and humorless though. And he was using my power and not telling me how to. Which meant he was definitely still an asshole. Just not quite as asshole as these new assholes.
I let out a sigh, and he turned his head to me as he walked.
“You are tired already?”
“Fuck no,” I retorted. “I was just lamenting there being so many assholes in the world.”
“Why do you swear so much? I dislike it.”
“I swear so much for exactly that reason. People like you, who think they can dominate me, dislike it. Plus, there are many situations in life where only a creative swearword will do.”
“Like what?”
“Well, there was an old homeless man in London I once heard call someone a wankwaffle for throwing a sandwich at him. I thought that was an excellent use of creative swearing.”
“Wankwaffle?” The word sounded so ridiculous coming out of Ares’ mouth that within seconds my small chuckle had turned into full on laughter.
“Say that again,” I gasped, through cackles, and to my sheer delight, he did. Hysterics took me completely, tears streaming from my eyes as my brain replayed the mountain of seriousness before me saying the word wankwaffle, over and over.
“You are very strange,” Ares said eventually, when I’d recovered myself enough to resume walking beside him.
“I needed that,” I breathed, my cheeks aching slightly.
“You needed to hear me saying wankwaffle?”
A snort of fresh laughter escaped me, and I reached out and punched him in the arm. “Stop saying it! You’ll set me off laughing again!”
“I do not understand how you can be furious and fearful for your friend one moment, and laughing hysterically another,” he said, shaking his head.
“I think it has to do with being so overwhelmed that it’s either laugh or drink all the tequila and cry,” I told him.
“Tequila makes you cry?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. Though I had never shed a tear in front of another person. Not since my first foster family. I mean, tears of laughter or pain notwithstanding. I’d been in many fights that had caused my eyes to water. But never tears of sadness.
“Then why do you drink it?” I looked up at the huge god, the bewilderment on his stunning face obvious.