The Heart of War Read Free

women were disturbed. “Wake up, my Lord. Wake up,” Nicco said in a hushed whisper as he shook Ares’ large forearm. “The woman, she’s gone from the beach.”
    One onyx eye rolled open and gazed up at Nicco with displeasure. “What?” Ares hadn’t been sleeping. In fact, he didn’t really sleep at all, not for hundreds of years had he slept through the night. He dozed lightly here and there, but Morpheus was never kind to him.
    “I checked on her not an hour ago, she hadn’t moved an inch, and now she’s gone.” Nicco did not want to incur Ares’ wrath, which was always quite painful, so he had been smart. “I sent Scopas after her, her tracks in the sand; she’s going south toward the other end of the island.”
    South was not a good direction for her but it could be for him. If she went south far enough, she would come upon the densest woods on the island. The animals there would take care of her. If not the wolves and bears, then Cerberus or the Golden Hind would come upon her in the dark. In the morning, he would come upon her bones as the vultures cleaned up what was left of her. “Go.” Ares commanded.
    “What are your orders?”
    “If you find her keep an eye on her.” Ares pulled the nearest woman, Kat, to him. Now that he was awake, he was hungry again. “Now go.” As he swung a thick leg over the woman in his bed, she woke up.
    “Ares?” Katrina asked sleepily.
    “Shut up,” he returned in a deep growl just before he entered her, feeling her squirm below him. He was Ares and she was not always as mindful of this as perhaps she should be. Katrina had been with him a long time; he had stretched her out over the years until she was the most fuckable whore among them. Still unable to take the length of his tool, Katrina was able to accommodate her Lord and Master with an impressive level of skill as he surged in and out of her like a rabid wolf. Nevertheless, even after fucking both of them for an hour, he was still wide-awake. The women, however, completely spent slept deeply on either side of him. He could call for fresh ones but he had the sneaking suspicion it would do him no good.
    There was a strange woman loose and wandering around his island; Ares could not sleep until she was no longer free to roam about or she was dead. Whichever came first didn't matter. Dressing in a snap of his fingers, into his favorite pair of black battle-hardened leather pants and an accompanying vest covered in sharp metal studs, once more Ares ventured outside into the dark.
    The beach below was empty, only two guards stood at the door, the other two having gone off in search of the stranger. Ares raised that sensitive nose to the air and took in a long breath and the very faintest tinge of honeysuckle rose to him on the wind. Honeysuckle did not grow on his island; the smell came from the woman. The underlying scent of decay that had once accompanied the sweet scent was no longer present.
    In the stillness of the night, he moved south and followed her scent.
    3
    The woman on the beach woke up shivering and coughing in the wet sand. Surrounded by the cold dark of night she didn't know where she was or even how she gotten here. Everything about her body hurt, but nothing more so than her chest, which ached and throbbed without mercy. Her throat was so dry she would gladly drink the saltwater crashing against the shore. She didn’t know how long she had lain on the chilly sand of this island; she only remembered seeing it off in the distance. If that was today, yesterday, or even the day before, she couldn’t tell. She knew that seeing its outline as she bobbed up and down at the mercy of the current was like seeing the Gates of Avalon rise up from the ocean. As the tide swelled, she’d kicked as she hard as she could. Her bound hands were nearly useless but she tried to chop through the water in front of her as her tired legs propelled her forward. When she could kick and chop no longer, the tide swept