The Warrior God (The Ares Trials #1) - Eliza Raine Page 0,41
walls, which were draped with deep, rich yellow and red fabrics. A dresser, large closet and enormous bed were all made from wood so dark it was almost black, and the cushions on the mattress shone like they were made from real gold.
“Nice room,” I whistled. There was a clanking noise behind me, and I turned to see Ares lifting his helmet from his head. All the pent-up energy in the world couldn’t stop my body from momentarily freezing, as my pulse rocketed.
There was something so sexy about his face being revealed, something so beautiful about his hair falling over the metal chestplate of his armor. Something so strong and fierce and just freaking hot about all of him.
“What is a mob-boss?” he said, snapping me out of it.
“Erm, a gangster.”
“What?”
“You know, lends people money, knowing they can’t afford to pay it back. Then blackmails them and beats them up.”
“A gambling hall owner?”
“That would fit, yeah.”
“There are many in Erimos. Which one did you kill?”
“Woah now, armor-boy. I didn’t kill anyone.”
He almost looked disappointed as he frowned at me. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I have questions for you. I want to be able to use my power.”
“No. Leave.”
“You can’t just march about using my power and not letting me have any of it!” I threw my ass down on the bed, to make a point that I wasn’t going anywhere. Ares pinched the bridge of his nose, and I took the opportunity to examine his lips. They were freaking excellent lips.
“I should not have let you in here. I thought you needed my help with the guards because you had killed someone.”
“I don’t kill people. To be honest, I’m not thrilled that it sounds like you do.”
“I am over three thousand years old, and the God of War. How is it you thought I would not be responsible for some death during my life?” There was a grit to his voice that was obviously meant to intimidate me, but, as seemed to be the case with his anger, it just fired me up more.
“I guess when you put it like that, it’s not really your fault,” I shrugged.
“You belittle my achievements? Say they are not really my fault?” He stared at me, muscles twitching under his gold armor.
“Look, I get that you have to do a certain amount of nasty stuff, it’s your job. But I wouldn’t call killing people an achievement.”
“What if the person I am killing is a tyrant? A murderer? A threat?”
We were back to that vigilante idea again, I thought, pondering his words. Did anyone ever deserve to be killed? “We all deserve a second chance,” I said eventually.
“You are mistaken,” he snorted. “Many here deserve nothing but death.”
“Here in Olympus, or here in your realm?”
“Both. Leave me now.”
“But you need to tell me how to use my power before tomorrow. If you distract me again like you did today at the camp we could fail Pain’s Trial.”
“All you need to do is stay out of the way, and I will win.”
“Look, armor-boy,” I said, standing up. “Do I strike you as the type of girl to ‘stay out of the way’?” Ares said nothing, just glared at me. Gods help me, he was even hotter when he was angry. I shoved down the desire to see the fire in his eyes again. “I’m going to take your silence as a no. Pain is going to put us through something unpleasant at best, lethal at worst, and asking me to do nothing is unfair and quite frankly, not going to happen.”
“Why are you making this so difficult?” Ares barked.
“Difficult? You are asking me to go against every instinct in my damned body!” I could swear when I said the word body his eyes flicked down my advancing torso. I jabbed my fist into his breastplate when I reached him. “You need me, and I need you. So, we work together or we both fail.”
“No.” He glared down at me. “I will repeat myself as long as I have to, irritating little human. I am over three thousand years old. I created Pain, Panic and Terror. With access to my power, their tests will be no match for me at all. If you want your friend back, do as you are told.” He hissed the words, and I could see the burning orange starting deep in his eyes. A distant drum beat found my ears.
“Access to your power?” I repeated. “You mean my power!”