Fear the Reaper [malexmale]

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

I stood in front of the standing mirror in the bedroom I shared with my husband.

Hades had generously, and when I say generously, I mean with a lot of grumbling and whining, donated one of his military uniforms to me. Thick heavy stitched with threads made from hydra and drakon parts making it mostly indestructible, went from my ankles to my wrists, with a high neck collar and a bit of extra metal padding around the torso area. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, only sleek and not as bulky as something out of Star Wars.

I reached up and tied my hair back partially from my face, then dropped my arms down to my sides. My holster was fully loaded with knives and a weird gun that tapped into my magic and made it easier to channel and aim. Hades called it his MAX-M6 model.

Downstairs, I could hear Simon and Rowan moving around as they prepared for the invasion of Viviana's realm. They'd also been lent suits by Hades, all black with a white empty circle on the arms to signify we weren't part of any specific military, Hades nor Hell.

I went to Alaric's nightstand, picking up a pack of cigarettes he'd left there. I turned the small plastic container over in my hand, then flipped the top up to reveal the neat little rows of white rolls.

I told him to stop smoking. I hated the smell of it. Hated the way I could taste it in his mouth when we kissed. I also wasn't a fan of him putting the ash trays through the damn dishwasher to keep them clean, otherwise, I'd bitch at him for days about the stench of the ashes being left behind.

I wish he'd stop smoking. But he only did it now when he was stressed. And judging from that ashtray by the bed that looked like a cigarette butt cemetery, he was really stressed lately. That was probably my fault. I wasn't easy to deal with. I wasn't gonna lie, say I was a perfect person. I did stupid shit, got angry about stupid shit.

"You ready to head out and meet with the others?" I looked up to see Rowan standing in the doorway. I frowned, shutting the cigarette box and stuffing it in my pocket.

"Are you ready?" I asked. Rowan had been really big on getting me to reunite with Xiphrus and patch shit up, but I'd noticed that Rowan always sidestepped Xiphrus or treated him more like a janitor than a father. Not that I was much better, but at least I recognized the guy's presence.

"Always," Rowan answered, making me raise an eyebrow, and he looked at me calmly, "Stanton, I'm not here because I want some happy family reunion where we all hug and shake hands and have some beers around the pool. I'm here because you need me. And when you don't need me, I'll go back to doing what I did before."

"Which was...?" I asked. Rowan stared at me blankly. I sighed.

"Ro, all these years I thought I was alone. Then Xiphrus shows up out of nowhere and wants to patch things up, and I'm not really big on a family reunion either, but you're my brother. We have way more in common than Xiphrus and I do. And also, I hate you less. Is it too much to ask for a little background on you? What were you doing all those years? You mentioned you had experience with dealing with beasts. What did that mean? You don't have one yourself, do you?" I asked. Rowan studied me for the longest time. I prepared for one of his infamous blockades, telling me I should shave before I head out or wear warm socks.

Instead, he surprised me by actually answering me.

"I don't want you to get attached to me, Stanton," Rowan replied, making me frown, "If something happens to me, and you're left to deal with it, I know you won't take it well. You didn't take the deaths of our other siblings well. You didn't take Xiphrus's betrayal well. You get attached to things so easily and you break to pieces when it's taken away. I don't want you to fall apart if I die." I frowned. I wanted to argue that, but he did have a point. I hated myself for that; for that emotional build up inside me that I couldn't control. I hated emotions in general. It made it too hard to focus on the cold hard logic of things, and I liked to pretend I could be logical, but in the end, my feelings got in the way.