Red Demon Read Online Free Page A

lifted his heavy forearms, flexing them in the air. “Like a grenade goes off inside me.” He thumped a fist against his chest. “Right down in here . . . some fucker pulls the pin, and it just explodes.”
    “Trust me,” River said. “I know that feeling. Unfortunately all too well.”
    Ari nodded, studying his best friend’s face. So familiar . . . and yet so very different since their fateful trade. There was a peace in River’s eyes and facial expression that had been lacking throughout their eternal years together. Ari shivered, wondering whether his own features had changed for the worse, whether the weight of what he’d accepted had transformed his appearance.
    As if in reaction, a jolt of electricity sizzled through his fisted hands, and there was an answering explosion from the other side of the room.
    “Damn it, Ari!” his big brother, Kalias, cursed. “That’s the third Wii you’ve fried this month.”
    He gave his brother the middle-finger salute, even though he couldn’t see it from the next room. “So bill me, Kali ass ,” he shouted irritably.
    And instantly felt the burn inside his body intensify tenfold.
    River clearly saw that change, because he cuffed Ari by the neck, hauling him toward the stairwell. “Move out,” River commanded.
    “Why?” Ari wrenched out of River’s grasp. “Where the hell are you taking me?”
    “Cecilia’s. We’re going to deal with whatever the problem is,” he announced, shoving Ari forward. “And you’re going to tell me the whole story. Now .”

Chapter 2
    The wind atop Olympus blew warm and brisk, whipping Daphne’s hair across her eyes. She stepped onto the stone portico that led to her brother’s palace, one of the most elaborate of all the gods’ homes, situated just below the mountain’s peak. From within, sheer curtains billowed in golden invitation.
    Ah, brother, your beauty is always so deceptive. Even your palace lies for you.
    Normally she preferred leather and miniskirts to the traditional white gown she’d donned for this familial visit, but things were tense enough with Ares right now. She didn’t need her fashion choices pointing out that he no longer controlled her destiny.
    She entered the throne room, following one of her brother’s female servants; the woman was practically nude, clothed only in links of delicate gold chain and a diaphanous skirt that hid nothing. Ares rose from a velvet settee and greeted Daphne, drawing her uncomfortably close.
    “I see those grimy Spartans haven’t corrupted you yet, sister. At least not fully.” He pressed his nose against the crown of her head, inhaling her scent. “Or perhaps you merely bathed before entering my presence. That would account for the aroma of lilacs.”
    He slid one arm about her waist, walking her toward his throne. It was a monstrous, ornate slab of gold that he’d commissioned some age or two ago, engraved with images of homage and victory. They were his usual self-adoring fare: Ares astride his stallion; Ares borne aloft a shield; Ares being lavished with maidenly kisses.
    He stroked a warm hand down her forearm, lingering far too long, and she jerked free as if scalded.
    He censured her with a dark warning. “Not very grateful.”
    “And for what should I be grateful?” she spat. “My centuries of captivity at your hand? The millennia of control, when you kept me invisible to the man that I . . . that I . . .” She bit back the rest.
    Ares laughed mockingly. “ The man that you love? ” he finished in a singsong falsetto, fanning his chest. “Oh, flowers and sonnets, how touching,” he chirped, then frowned as if tasting something noxious. “By all of Olympus, love makes me sick . The emotion is a weakness, a blight. How disappointing that my own offspring should be the keeper of it.”
    Ares had very little respect for his son Eros. In fact, she wasn’t sure how many years had passed since he’d even bothered to see the playful, amorous god of love.