Page 41 of Scion of Chaos

“I’ll be in touch,” I tell them. “Get back to work until I need you. Erebus will keep an eye on the girl.”

The tension that rises when I mention Nemea again is palpable as I teleport to the mortal world. It lingers like a knot in my gut that just gets tighter. Perhaps Chaos was right about our level of synchronicity. We may all be on board with Nemea’s significance to us, but that doesn’t mean we’ll agree on what to do with her. Other than bed her, anyway, but even that thought triggered a fight when I let them in earlier.

I arrive in a shadowy olive grove on the outskirts of Litochoro and pause to get my bearings. It’s been eons since I stepped foot here, and the landscape has changed. Standing within sight of Olympus, I can pinpoint from memory the best location to approach from, and just hope there are no dragons patrolling from the air when I land. They won’t venture beyond the mountain itself, at least, to avoid being seen by any humans, so when I arrive at the next landing spot, it’s silent and dark, but close enough for me to scent the campfire of the archaeological team who uncovered the temple doors.

The fact that they have a team of dragons suggests it’s the same group who awakened the most recent dragon brood from hibernation. I’m only alert to these events because young dragons are typically hellraisers, and after spending five centuries effectively imprisoned, it’s no surprise when they misbehave. I don’t usually have to intervene, but every so often the dragon race’s enforcers need me to pop in just to give the troublemakers incentive to straighten up. There’s nothing like the threat of a proper supernatural prison to scare them straight.

But I’m not expected tonight, so I need to tread carefully.

I teleport to a thicket of shadows at the edge of the camp and listen for a moment. Conversation is subdued, so when I stride out of the darkness, everyone leaps up. One of the two blond human men starts to call out, but I hold up a hand.

“Please don’t sound the alarm. I’m only here to talk.”

“Who the fuck are you?” the man asks. “Why shouldn’t I report you? Are you with those fuckers who tried to break into the temple last night?”

“In a sense, but I’m only trying to capture them and put them back where they belong.”

A beautiful auburn-haired woman pushes through the two men. She glances back and gestures for them to stand down. “I’ve got this, guys.” Then she strides right up to me. “You’re the warden, aren’t you? Do you have a name, or are you just Tartarus?”

She looks haggard up close, but she’s alive. The fact that the Titans were here, then left without leaving a body count suggests they want something from her. She also has the scent of dragon around her, but I don’t see a single sign of a dragon at the camp. Not until a little girl scampers out of a nearby tent, red curls bouncing.

“Mama, you said you’d stay with me tonight, but I woke up and you were gone!”

The little girl’s eyes flash with red inner light, and her mother gracefully swoops her up in her arms, focus shifting entirely to the girl.

“Gabby, honey, we have a visitor I need to talk to. I promise you’ll be safe if you stay in the tent.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” the girl whines. “I want Papa.”

“I know baby. So do I.”

“You’re Erika Rosencrans, aren’t you? Where is the girl’s father?” I ask.

The woman stares at me for a beat, distrust emanating from her and her companions in waves.

I take a breath, deciding to try a different approach and hope my reputation doesn’t precede me. “They call me Vesh. I serve multiple roles. In this world, I’m a Scion of Chaos. My brothers and I oversee security for Chaos at his casino in the city you know as Las Vegas.”

“Pandemonium,” one of the blond men says. I know Erika by reputation, but it takes a moment to recall the names of her companions. This one is either Eben or Dimitri; I’m guessing it’s Eben due to his American accent. “I’ve been there. It’s a popular vacation spot for dragons.”

“Yes, it is. But my other role, the one you referenced a moment ago, is warden of the prison where the higher races and other magical creatures get sent when they break the law—at least the ones whose transgressions are so great their own races don’t have a sufficient means of punishment.”

She looks past me and narrows her eyes. “You’re just one man hunting four Titans? Color me skeptical that you can get the job done. They put down four dragons without effort—threatened to kill them if I don’t give them what they want.”

“I contain multitudes, Ms. Rosencrans. What you see looks like a human man, but I was never human. I was born before the higher races existed—beforehumanityexisted. I am not just an individual, either, but an entire realm to which the worst of the worst creatures are sent to rot. Most never get out; this jailbreak is a highly unusual occurrence. But I also have a crew of powerful guards at my disposal who will help me track and capture the escaped convicts.”

She eyes me up and down. “Prove it.”

I grit my teeth, but nod, mentally calling on Pan for his aid first. It’s his unique power that allows the others to fight side by side. His mind slides into mine like a hand into a glove. The two of us fit well together, and I can’t help but be reminded of how we fit inside Nemea mere hours ago.

“Stop that or she’ll see a side of us we don’t want her to see, brother,”Pan says.

“At attention,”I say, ignoring the faun. I sense the other four close. Campe hesitates.

“If you want me to show myself, they’ll know I’m not my sister,”she says.

“I don’t think that matters now.”

“Give me room,” I say, stepping back a pace to allow the others to join me. Then I hand the reins over to Pan.

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