Ravaged: An Eternal Guardians Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
Elisabeth Naughton
“There will be killing till the score is paid.”
― Homer, The Odyssey
CHAPTER ONE
Time was irrelevant on Olympus. Something Daphne was grateful for today.
The sun set low on the horizon behind the shimmering white marble of Zeus’s palace as she lifted the magical bow and arrow all Sirens wielded, pulled the string back for the umpteenth time, and zeroed in on her target a hundred yards away. Holding her breath, she released the string. A sting echoed in her finger, and she jerked her hand back and winced as the arrow flew through the air toward the trunk of a tree carved into the face of the god of the Underworld.
A thwack echoed across the space. The arrow grazed Hades’s right earlobe.
Daphne frowned. She’d been at this for three hours and still couldn’t hit the stupid god anywhere deadly, let alone between the eyes where she was supposed to tag him.
“Better.” Sappheire, Athena’s right-hand Siren and the leader of Zeus’s female warrior army, nodded at Daphne’s side. “You keep practicing and you’ll get there.”
Daphne wasn’t so sure. All Sirens went through rigorous training in a variety of different areas—combat, seduction, warfare, strategy—and she’d passed each section with high marks from her trainers. But she couldn’t take her final Siren vows until she conquered the marksmanship exam. And at the moment, her aim wasn’t even close to one-hundred percent, which was why she was out here now, on the training field behind Siren headquarters, working on her shot long after the other recruits had retired to the mess hall for dinner. So far she’d failed the test three times. Until she could hit a target repeatedly dead center—without injuring herself—she was SOL. Which meant her dream of being a full-fledged Siren kept hovering in the distance, just out of reach.
“That’s a nice thought,” she said, lowering her bow and shaking out her hand. “I’m not sure how realistic it is, though.”
“Persistence will pay off.” Sappheire’s luxuriously sleek mane—a mixture of blonde and chestnut and ginger locks—swayed as she turned Daphne’s way, and those brilliant blue eyes for which she was named sparkled. “If this is your calling, it’ll happen. Just don’t give up.”
Dressed in form-fitting black pants, a tight, black, low-cut tank that showed off her cleavage and muscular arms, and kick-ass stiletto boots that elongated her legs, Sappheire pressed the button at the end of her bow, shrinking the weapon down to a six-inch metal bar. She’d lost the leather breastplate and arm guards she usually wore in the field, but she still looked as menacing as any warrior. And not for the first time, Daphne was glad this Siren had taken a liking to her instead of harassing her as she did some of the other recruits.
Slipping the weapon into her boot, Sappheire added, “Athena’s been watching you.”
Watching her fail? Daphne winced. She wasn’t sure she needed to know that, not when she already felt like a major loser.
Daphne shrank her own weapon. She was dressed the same as Sappheire—tight black pants, fitted black tank, crazy high boots it had taken her years to learn to walk in—but where Sappheire wore the outfit with confidence and grace, Daphne still felt awkward in the take-notice-of-me-now getup. “Well, if nothing else, I’m sure she’s entertained.”
“Perhaps.” Sappheire peered back toward the white painted building of Siren headquarters, less stately and ornate than the structures on Olympus, but still intimidating. “I think you’re being summoned.”
Daphne’s gaze followed as she slid her bow into her boot, then focused on two figures standing on the back porch of the building. One she knew on first glance. The goddess Athena and head of the Siren Order flicked her curly chestnut locks over her shoulder and waved her hand in a come-this-way move. She was striking and gorgeous and every bit the goddess Daphne had imagined her to be as a child. But it was the other figure that made Daphne’s pulse skip. The seven-foot tall, dark-haired god at Athena’s side, commanding all with just his stately presence.
Zeus.
“Don’t stand there dumbfounded, girl.” Sappheire nudged Daphne toward the building. “The last thing you want to do is keep the king of the gods waiting. Go already.”
Right. The king of the gods...
Swallowing hard, Daphne put one foot in front of the other and headed for the building. Behind her, the sun dipped below Zeus’s palace until the sky above was nothing but a warm pink glow, but she didn’t even notice. She was suddenly too scared that Athena and Zeus had finally figured out she wasn’t Siren material and were going to kick her out of the Order.