Damn it! The truth of that statement burned like fire in his gut. He knew what choice he’d make.
The same one Illarion did as his brother shoved him back and ran to Apollo.
In that moment, Max knew he couldn’t stay. If he did, he’d be forced to fight the last creature on this planet he’d ever harm.
The brother he’d spent a lifetime protecting.
Worse, he knew that wasn’t Edilyn. It couldn’t be. It was an illusion of some kind. But Illarion was so desperate to have her back that he didn’t care. He was past listening to reason.
Distracted, Max glanced back into the temple to check on Illarion as he embraced whatever demon or creature wore the skin of his brother’s wife. His thoughts and emotions were so scattered and raw that for a moment, he forgot he was still in a human body.
Forgot he was in the middle of a war and a battle.
But he was reminded fast when a demon materialized in front of him and ran him completely through his heart with a sword, and kicked him to the ground, leaving him there to die.
20
Savitar went into Kalosis expecting a war zone. But the absolute silence of Apollymi’s dark palace was even more terrifying. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Nothing.
It was so quiet that only the sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears. The dark was oppressive and sterile. Unsettling. Downright terrifying in its own right. Yeah, this had all the markings of a Creature Feature film and was exactly the type of home you’d expect for a woman termed The Great Destroyer.
Zakar scowled at him as Savitar turned around, looking for the body count that should have been here. “Is it supposed to be empty like this?”
Styxx shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said slowly, stretching the words out. “It’s a little too…”
“Normal?” Zakar asked.
“Yeah.”
Savitar couldn’t agree more. “I could have sworn there’d be more…”
“Blood?” This time it was Sin who weighed in. As the grandson-in-law of the Destroyer, he was well versed in her more vicious mood swings and bloodbath parties.
Zakar nodded. “And violence. Definitely expected blood on the walls and violence.”
“Violence? You dare barge into my home without an invitation? Oh, violence I can definitely give you, Sumerian dog.”
They turned to find Apollymi standing in all her regal glory on the stairs of her palace, glaring at them. Her black gown spread out around her ethereal figure and contrasted sharply to her snow-white hair.
Her swirling silver eyes glittered like ice. “Why are you here? How dare you barge into my home.” To be barely more than a whisper, those words carried more threat than any shout.
Savitar cleared his throat. “We thought the demons would be attacking you.”
“So… what? You were going to ride in on your white surfboard, and save helpless little me from the big bad demon horde of my enemies? How vulgarly heroic of you, Savitar. But as you can plainly see, I’ve no need of rescue. Everything’s fine and normal here.”
“Were you not attacked?”
Apollymi laughed. “Oh yes. I was attacked, and I unleashed my tidal and formidable wrath upon the vermin who dared such.” She shivered as if in the throes of ultimate pleasure. “It was exhilarating. Positively divine and delightful. If you have any more demonic issues that plague you on the surface, please, please send them here for my enjoyment. I’ve so missed the thrill of the kill. The taste of blood and orgasmic screaming they do just before they expel that final breath where they uselessly cling to life but ultimately must surrender to death. Such sweet, precious harmony.” She expelled a breath of supreme satisfaction and smiled in complete ecstasy. “That is what I live for.”
Zakar looked at his brother and snorted. “I’m thinking she needs some private time.”
Savitar slapped him on the chest. Hard. “Be nice. Be polite. Or I’ll unleash her on you.” He left them to climb the stairs where she stood above him, the epitome of utter icy perfection. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She passed him a droll stare. “I would show you the bodies, but my Charonte are having a feast with them. If you hurry, you might find a few remaining scraps. Maybe a fingernail or tooth they have yet to consume.” She arched a brow. “Were you truly concerned?”
“Of course. As was Acheron.”