Eros

Chapter Twenty

The dreams were upon her again.

This time, both men were in it.

From a bird's eye view, Angie watched Eros stroll into his throne room where Ares was already waiting. The men didn't greet each other much. Angie figured they'd probably seen each other the day before.

Both men wore togas, tanned within their Greek climate.

When Eros entered, Ares straightened, looking all too comfortable in his friend's throne. "When do you intend to move against the fates?"

"Why the rush? We have all the time in the world."

"Time is a tactical advantage."

"But without planning time is useless." Angie took in everything she could, learning. These men were close. There was no doubt about it. How quickly will Eros throw me under the bus for him? "Relax, I have an army of angels. I'll move when I'm ready to."

Ares rolled his eyes. "You have an army of de-winged, fallen angels that she's already cast aside."

"Angels that know heaven inside out."

"Pity it's not heaven where we'll be hosting our attack."

Hang on. Back up.

This dream was new.

Who were they trying to attack?

They spoke about heaven. Was Eros starting a war?

What's he pulled me into?

No wonder they were both targets. Eros was making enemies. And as ever, Ares was right there by his side.

"You have an army too," Eros pointed out.

"But will it be enough? The longer you wait, the more time you give the Other World to prepare," Ares said.

"The faster you move, the more weaknesses you leave to be attacked," Eros chided.

"The longer you wait, the more weaknesses you create."

"Relax, Ares. What we're doing is working. The fate has eyes and ears everywhere." What was the fate? Who was his latest enemy? Is this what he's dragged me into? "We take them down, we take down her outside. Then we move onto the inside."

Ares seemed to be understanding, which was good for some. Angie, six hundred years later, had no idea what was happening. "So that's why you're spending all your time on the centaur."

Centaurs exist too?

"The centaur's a pawn and he's predictable," Eros answered. "I know what he wants. When I give it to him, he'll be easy to manipulate when I take it away."

Ah—the reminder. The reminder that Eros couldn't be trusted.

Here he was again, posing as someone's friend just to turn on them.

How was Angie supposed to trust that?

Inevitably, this would only ever bring her harm.

So, moral of the story, Angie, a human, couldn't trust either of these men as far as she could throw them. And even if Eros presented himself as someone she could trust, she had to remember that snake in the grass.

At the first sign of benefit to himself, he'd drop Angie in an instant.

To them, Angie didn't matter. Bringing Eros back to life was what mattered. So if she had to die for that to happen, then that was okay with them.

I don't want to die.

She needed something. Something to cling onto. Her own secret weapon.

Angie refused to die for this. Those men had lived for long enough.