Hate That I Love You

Chapter 1

He sensed the ethereal presence even before turning the head to his right. Savitar saw the most beautiful, lethal, and irritating woman ever born, standing by the bedroom door. She invaded his private sanctuary, showing complete disregard to the act of war she just made. She had long white-blond wavy hair, and didn't look much older than her mid-twenties. "What are you doing here, Apollymi?"

Actually, she wasn't really there, only her holographic image. Even so, she exuded unmistakable raw power.

But didn't matter if she presented herself in the flesh or in astral projection, she being there annoyed Savitar to the deepest level. More when she dared to come to his island without his expressed invitation. Nobody did that, unless they had a death wish.

"I'm doing Apostolos a favor," she said in aloof tone. "He asked me to check on you."

He threw her daggers with his eyes as she approached to him. "Do you really think I'm so stupid to believe that?"

That was the lamest excuse he ever heard. Acheron didn't need any messenger to communicate with him, much less use his mother for the job. Acheron knew how bad the relationship between Savitar and Apollymi was. She tolerate him as much as he did her, which was less than nothing. That the Destroyer was there saying pathetic lies raised all the red flags in him. "Why are you really here?"

She looked at him sourly, red edges appeared in her godly silver eyes as the anger rose inside her. Nothing unusual for an encounter between them. It wasn't needed much to set off her temper, and nobody did it faster than him. It had been that way for too long.

One honest mistake from his part had been all it took for their once cordial relationship to turn into a war of hatred. One that didn't seemed to have an end. "Speak, or begone, woman. Have no patience for you tonight."

Having her close rattled his mind and senses. She always had. Much worse now when he was not at his best. Having someone as lethal, and capable to use anything against him, while he was vulnerable unsettled him. And history had proven that there was nobody more dangerous than the Atlantean goddess of destruction and death. Savitar got on his feet and walked away from her, ignoring a wave of pain that went through him. He had a deep gash that went all the way down on his back. In spite of his effort to heal himself, the wound was still bleeding.

"You're injured," Apollymi said softly. If he didn't knew better, he could swear he heard concern in her voice. But that was impossible. The Atlantean goddess wasn't exactly known for her sympathy. Much less for him.

"I had worse," he truly had had many times before, just not recently.

"An understatement," she sneered. "By the way you're bleeding, I can tell that wound is much worse than you want to admit."

"It'll heal."

Eventually.

The demon that had wounded him had a blade like he had never seen before. Savitar was starting to think that the coating on the weapon had some kind of serum, powerful enough to compromise his Chthonian powers. The attack had taking him by surprise. But not the battle, though. For months, a major bad mojo has being brewing. Savitar knew he wouldn't be able to skip this one. They were coming for him.

The fight tonight had been a nasty one. Fruitless, as well. Things were heating up out there. Demons and all kinds of evil were showing up since Kessar, the warlord for the Gallu demons, had stolen the Smaragdine Tablet. It looked like all the children of Echidna, and their extensive progeny, were making a welcome party for mama. Not even all the Hellchasers, active and former Dark-Hunters, and the other immortal beings living in New Orleans seemed to be enough to control the situation. Several had been injured, including him, while the horde of demons roaming through the city left a hellish mess behind.

Savitar didn't wanted to think how much worse the situation could get in the next few months, before the prophesied Blood Moon arrived. If Kessar managed first releasing the Scythian Guard, and then awakening Echidna, the mother of all monsters, it could be the end of everything and everyone.

He had been there, done that, read the book, saw the movie, joined the fandom on tumblr, and got the t-shirt.

And he wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

"Come to see me," Apollymi said.

Savitar whirled around, with his brows drawn together. Apollymi was just two steps behind him, with his hand raised in the air, as if she had intentions to touch his bare and mauled back. "Why would I do that?"

She dropped her hand. "You need to care of that wound, and I can't heal you in this form. You have to come to Kalosis where I can touch you."

"I don't need your help. In a few hours, I will be fine."

"Hardly. Your injury is oozing black fluid," she pointed out in patronizing tone, which ticked him off. "And I bet it burns."

Like a motherfucker, but that wasn't her problem. He would heal sooner or later.

"Still don't know what you're doing here. Leave me alone so I can lick my wounds at peace!" exhaustion and irritation sharpened his words.

Apollymi stiffened and her eyes turned full glowing red. "Fine, as you wish. I hope you writhe for days... weeks before death has mercy on you!" Apollymi vanished on the spot.

But before she did, Savitar managed to take a glimpse to the tears clouding her eyes.

That was odd. Apollymi was usually much more guarded with her emotions.

As a rule, Savitar didn't mind to rile her. In fact, he liked to do so. Their heated exchanges could be entertaining and invigorating as hell. Not that he would admit that to her or anyone else. Nevertheless, that night he wasn't in the mood for it.

But he never intended to hurt her. Much less bad enough to make her lose her equanimity.

Guilt took up residence in his chest, squeezing tight his lungs and heart. Only Apollymi was able to make him feel that way. It was a complete mystery why he couldn't be as cold-hearted with her as he was with everyone else.

He was tired, beaten, and bleeding; he should get some rest and restore his strength. Yet, the compulsion to do something to make up with her was irresistible.

He exhaled sharply and scrubbed his face with his hands, aghast by what he was about to do.