Chapter 4 - Survivor / Con't from part a...)

Miles away and minutes later, Diana reappeared in a rented cottage. It was small, cozy, affordable and most importantly, unknown to the God of War. Or so Diana believed. But as she walked through her newfound home, which felt suspiciously empty, she had to wonder if Ares was as ignorant of her new location as she'd thought. The room felt devoid and cold -- too damn cold and she shivered, her breath mistifying and evaporating in the air with each exhale. True, the fireplace had burnt down to no more than embers while she was gone -- but this wasn't related to normal atmospheric temperatures. This was something different. This was something -- dangerous. Diana could feel supernatural influence all around her and she braced a hand on the hilt of her sword. Was it Ares? Had the War God's interference in her life stretched to include Jonathan again? Was he still trying to use her son as a bargaining chip against her?

Diana's worst fears were realized as she burst into Jonathan's room and beheld the empty bed, sheets crumpled on the ground, pillows tossed haphazardly aside. Of her son, there was no trace. Diana bent and ran her fingers investigatively along the wood floor, darting a glance beneath the bed for a body. At least there was no blood, either on the floor or the bedsheets -- or signs of a physical struggle. She could only assume that meant her son was taken peacefully in his sleep. And chances were then that the boy was still alive. Without stopping to consider what that might mean, the furious gypsy disappeared, rematerializing in the Halls of War.

"ARES YOU SICK SON OF BITCH," she cried, not giving a damn who might hear her. "YOU GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE AND FACE ME LIKE A GOD!"

A fiery flash and Ares complied, appearing before her. He shifted uncertainly on the balls of his feet, confusion twisting the War God's brawny features.

"Diana? What in Tartarus are you bitching on about now—?" He didn't get any further as Diana unsheathed her sword and pressed the tip to his chest, in no mood for games.

"Ares, I want my son back!" she growled. "Now! Wherever it is you've taken him, I don't care. You'd better give him back to me before I lose control!"

Ares looked more puzzled still, which served to infuriate her further. "I assure you I haven't the foggiest idea what you are talking about."

"DON'T YOU DARE LIE TO ME!" Diana shrieked, precariously close to the edge. "I'LL KILL YOU ARES! DO YOU HEAR ME? I WILL KILL YOU!"

Ares tried to calm her down, but Diana refused to be coaxed and emitting a primal scream she swung her weapon at the War God, intent on cleaving his immortal form in two. How she was going to carry out her threat of killing him she wasn't sure yet, but by the Gods she'd hack away at him for eternity if that was what it took!

Ares caught the wild swing with his own weapon. The swords fused together, generating energy. An average sword was no contest to the Sword of War -- it'd be hewn apart with little effort. But Diana's steel was the strength of a thousand steels and her weapon was just as ageless as Ares was. The swords merged again violently, the metal glowing molten hot, the clanging and clashing infiltrating the room with deafening sound. Colored sparks flew off in myriads of directions, shining bright then fading in midair like fireworks.

"Diana!" Ares gritted out, attempting to defuse her rage. "What happened? I'm guessing by pure context that someone took the boy?"

"You did, you BASTARD!"

"It wasn't me. And I don't know who is responsible -- but if you'll calm down, I'll help you find the real culprit."

"You're a liar Ares. You're a goddamned liar!"

"I'm not lying Diana. If I took your brat, don't you think I'd want you to know it was me? What advantage would there be in me lying to you now?"

Reluctantly Diana confessed to the logic in his statement. Ares had no reason to take Jonathan except to force Diana to comply his wishes. If he had kidnapped him, he'd be making demands not denials. He could be lying, but like he said there was no motive for him to do so. Ares held all the cards in the situation -- he knew Diana would do anything to protect Jonathan, including sacrificing her own life. So it'd seem for once -- Ares wasn't lying. But -- if the War God hadn't taken Jonathan, then who had?

She lowered her weapon, but her eyes still shot sparks at him. "If you didn't take him Ares, who did?"

"I don't know," Ares admitted and preemptively raised a hand. "But I can find out. Look, you're sure he was taken and didn't just wander off -- 'running away' or whatever those adolescents do when they're pissed off? You didn't have any big fights with the boy or anything?"

"No Ares! Do you think I'm a freakin' idiot?"

His brow rose. "Do you really want me to answer that question?"

"Don't you try me, you son of bitch! He didn't run away! Something happened to him and if you don't have him, then you'd better find him. 'Cause if anything happens to him, I'm doing the same damn thing to you. Are we clear?"

"Crystal clear as your rose, sweetheart."

"I'll do it. Don't doubt it."

"I know," soft was his response, as soft as hers was harsh. "We'll find him. Just try and relax."

Diana took a deep, cleansing breath. She knew she needed to calm down, but it was nearly impossible. Her mind was racing wildly, mad with fear. She knew if Ares didn't have her little boy, then he was in genuine danger. Ares wouldn't have killed him -- this time. But whatever this mindless danger was --is-- it mightn't be so merciful.

She paced to and fro; anxious, untempoed steps reflecting inner chaos. She pressed her fingers against her temples, where a sudden, throbbing headache had sprung up.

"So what do we do?" she fired words like pistol shots, short and staccato. "Where do we start? How are we going to find him?"

"I'll gather the priestesses and assemble them into search parties. Then I'll go to Olympus and see what I can find out." Ares placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled. An acolyte appeared and Ares dispatched the word for every available priestess to meet them in the Halls of War. While they awaited the arrivals, Ares rotated so he was facing Diana again.

"I'm sorry about this. If I had known about this or had any clue whatsoever, I would've prevented the boy's capture."

Diana's lip twisted cynically. "Don't you think that's a little ironic coming from you? You were the one who took him the first time. Then you killed him. Somehow Ares, I don't exactly feel comfortable calling you when he needs a babysitter."

Ares spread his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Granted in the past I went about it in a wrong fashion, but my motives have ever been in your best interests. I know how miserable you've been since his death. I already apologized for my part on that scenario. Please trust me when I say that I will do everything in my power to reunite you two."

"Trust and you? Those two words don't go together."

"Gods Diana! You can be so difficult sometimes."

"Why? Because I'm not buying this touchy-feely scene you are putting on for my benefit. You wanted him gone Ares. You have always resented the bond we shared and while you may not be responsible for his disappearance this time,don't try and pretend that you are sorry he was taken either!"

"Why do you always have to be so jaded and suspicious? Hasn't it ever once occurred to you gypsy, that I might be trying to help you?"

"Oh right. The only time you ever try to help me is when there is something for you behind it."

Ares looked frustrated. He grabbed her shoulders, flexing and unflexing his fingers as if forcing himself not to shake her. "But I have," he pressed. "I have been so generous with you. I've helped you in ways you don't even know."

Diana snorted. He gave her a little shake then, his forehead lined with tension.

"You crazy wench, I HAVE!" he bellowed. "Who do you think it was who arranged for the Fates to grant you a request in first place? Do you think they just made the offer out of the goodness of their hearts or something? News flash, Diana! Someone had to make them come and reward you and that someone was me!"

Diana looked stunned. "But—but I thought Z—Zeus—," she sputtered. Ares echoed her earlier snort.

"Dad? You think Dad is going to step out of his comfort zone to approach the Fates. He fears them -- one of the only things he does fear. He avoids them at Olympian occasions. He's too afraid of invoking their wrath to ask them for favors -- let alone ones that involve me," Ares finished with a crooked smile. "No it was I who worked on your behalf Diana. I ensured that you would be rewarded for the clemency you showed me."

The hesitation on Diana's part was due partially to shock and partially to confusion. She had no idea how she was supposed to respond to that. Did Ares just want her to believe him? Or was there an ulterior motive to her thinking he did her a favor? Gratitude? Winning her back on his side? What response was he after from her? He seemed truthful about it --actually this evening he'd appeared truthful about a lot of things-- but Diana hadn't considered him as her mystery benefactor before. Particularly not after the comment the Fates made about Zeus -- which now that Diana thought back, they never actually said it was Zeus who told them. They only implied it. What they actually said was that Zeus was grateful Di had shown mercy to his son. That comment, whether truthful or otherwise, didn't relate at all to the favor asked of them though Di hadn't realized it at that time.

"Well, why?" she finally murmured. "Why did you do it Ares? What is your angle this time?"

Ares was about to answer when the priestesses started filing in, Darielle in the lead. The assassin spared Diana a quick glance, but sensing the tension she wisely addressed Ares first.

"Is something wrong, My Lord?"

"Yes. Diana's son has been kidnapped."

Darielle gasped and shot a look at Di. Krista quickly stepped in, knowing what a sensitive subject it was, particularly in regards to Ares.

"What are your orders, My Lord?"

"We will be assisting her in locating him. Darielle, you, Jocasta and Krista choose and divide the other priestesses into search and rescue teams. Each of you take a section of the countryside and work your way back towards the Temple. Diana, where was the boy abducted from?" he queried, swinging back in Di's direction. Diana paused, wishing she didn't have to reply, but reluctantly acknowledged there was no hiding the truth from Ares now. She gave directions to her cottage and Ares nodded his agreement, giving the signal to move out before he disappeared.

Darielle crossed to Diana's side and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Gods Di. Are you ok?"

"No," Diana said grimly. "But once we find him, I will be. And whoever is responsible for this will die."

Just the way she said it made a shiver run down Dari's spine.

"Di, we'll find him," she promised, hoping against hope it'd be true. "Don't you worry ok. Krista and I have this covered for you. Why don't you sit down and—"

Diana pinned her with a look. "Darielle -- you aren't even thinking you are going to leave me behind here to await word, are you? Surely you are not so crazy as that?"

"No, no," Dari placated her. No way in Tartarus was she going to admit the thought crossed her mind. "Of course you are coming. Let's go, shall we?"

It seemed forever, but in reality only minutes passed before the horses were saddled and Dari's party rode out, Diana following behind. The gypsy was lost in thought and worried, not sure where her little boy could be, not understanding who would take him and make no ransom demands on the gypsy. Who, besides Ares, even had a motive to go after her? There had to be a reason, but it seemed like the abduction was more connected to Jonathan himself than it was to Diana. And as strange as that was, it only made the mystery more puzzling. The more Diana mused over it, the more she became convinced this was something tied into Jonathan's past. The reason she couldn't solve this bizarre puzzle was because she didn't have all of the pieces yet. And until she found those missing pieces, she wouldn't have a clear picture of what was going on.

The beginning of their search was futile and the more failure they experienced, the more Diana became frantic, worried sick over Jonathan's safety. She grew frustrated as farmhouse after cottage yielded no results and she couldn't sense the boy's aura anywhere. She was ice cold both physically and metaphorically and not growing any warmer, whipped by the wind and rain, thrashed by the impudent lightning, but relentless in her search. The storm battered its fury against them, but none of the priestesses in the search party gave up. They all braved the worst for her and if Diana hadn't been so worried, she'd have found herself marveling that she could inspire such loyalty and friendship. Unmerited most of it was, but her priestess friends were all women of such strength and courage, they would not have given up regardless.

The night grew prolonged and the torrent worsened, making visibility an unattainable state. The water stung Diana's eyes as it struck the sensitive spheres forcefully, causing her to blink rapidly in order to clear them. It was in the midst of one of these blinks that Diana felt sudden ice wrap around her body -- even before a dark silhouette rose out of the gloom.

"It's a temple," Calipso observed with no small amazement. The half goddess wasn't struggling over the weather quite as much as the others, but it was still no picnic for anyone. She practically had to shout the words to be heard over the screaming winds. "I don't remember an Olympian temple on this side of Cenchrea."

"It's no' one o' Ares," Rohanna agreed. The Celt reached for the scimitar strapped on her back, eyes narrowing. Diminutive as she was, she had to dig both bootheels into the earth to keep from being blown away. "It has a stench that's no' familiar tae me, no' do it coom across as friendly. I dinna recognize any o' the symbols here."

"What god would be stupid enough to invade Ares territory?" Red asked. She looked strange without Thor perched affectionately on her shoulder, the falcon and the thief being near inseparable. Though both Thor and Drax offered their services to help scout, the ferocity of the weather had convinced both mistresses to keep their pets inside. They regretted even taking horses out in this storm, but it was necessary for optimum speed to benefit the search party.

She then placed her hands on her hips and flipped back the long wet locks of hair that kept flying across her face in the driving wind. "Everyone knows Cenchrea belongs to the God of War. There aren't any other temples around here except the ones he allows."

"Unless it's no' one o' our gods," Ro argued. "Mayhap a foreign deity, bidin' they are no' familiar wit' this land. I mun say 'tis a nasty surprise they tae be in fer when Lord Ares discovers them."

"What are your senses telling you Di?" Calipso asked, sparing a glance at the gypsy. Diana flinched, rainwater streaming down her face. Black hair flowed likewise down her back in a glassy river, wet strands stubbornly trying to kink up against the downpour that set its will against it and beat the curls into soggy submission.

"It's Dahok's Temple," she replied grimly. "I can sense him here. Or at least his presence was here once. He and Ares shared territory, as you'll recall. After they parted ways, I thought we managed to tear down all of the altars to that bastard." She stiffened. "Apparently I was wrong. He still has a stronghold here." She raised her eyes to the heavens, rain stinging them but she took no notice. "There has been great evil done here this night. I can feel it now. That's why it's so cold."

Rohanna, Red and Calipso all exchanged brief glances. They knew better than to doubt the gypsy's word. They pivoted towards Darielle as one, knowing she'd make the call on the next move. The assassin had been strangely silent, as if she'd known all along what this place was. She looked at Diana now, her gaze sad.

"What say you Di?" she inquired. "You know more of Dahok than all of us. What shall we do now?"

"We go in of course," Di commanded. She sounded terse and guttural. She scrubbed her eyes roughly with a hand and none of the other women could tell whether it was rainwater or tears flowing down her cheeks. "Red, Dari. You go in through the back. Cal, Ro and I will take the front. If you find anything or need help, just holler ok?"

The party nodded and split their separate ways. Di led the party towards the front --taking a moment out to secure the mounts in an alcove out of the driving rain and wind-- as the thief and assassin melted naturally into the shadows on the side of the building. Diana couldn't help the deep apprehension she felt, not sure whether to take it as a sign of fear or foreboding. Anything involving Dahok was trouble. And though she'd personally seen to the destruction of his temples and altars after he and Ares broke their alliance --the other priestesses were more than happy to pitch in and help after he'd crippled Lord Ares and ordered him killed-- it was apparent that Dahok refused to be dismissed so easy. He'd found a way back in, unnoticed by them all. If Diana wasn't so caught up in her own family drama, she'd have sensed his presence much sooner. Now she remembered why she always felt it was better for her to be a loner. It made it easier for her to focus on her mission. Now she was paying the cost of having a life.

"Be careful," she admonished the others in a whisper. Everything seemed quiet. But Di could see beyond the concealing dark with her inner eyes and they revealed a room cold with grief, a room which stank of unmitigated evil. There was no visible blood anywhere, but Diana could feel it ethereally like the cold and she could hear the screams of innocent souls crying out from the walls, begging for mercy but finding none. This was a site of tremendous atrocities. In this place, human sacrifices had been made to empower the forces of Darkness. And Diana felt the pangs of guilt bind her, knowing she could have --should have-- stopped it when it began.

She proceeded further in, flanked by warriors on either side, tense and ready for battle. Fierce statues --darkly demonic idols and symbols-- appeared out of the gloom, but they were lifeless stone and posed no threat to the women. If there were priests or acolytes present, they kept well out of view. And no light shone anywhere; if anything the shadows were thicker here than they were outdoors. Ro located and lit a torch, gaining Di's everlasting gratitude, but it flickered weakly in the dark, fighting against a nameless enemy set on extinguishing it. The gloom pressed in from all sides and shapeless things floated around, insubstantial and icy cold, just out of reach of the light.

Rising like a ghost ship out of the black fog, a tall, squat shape appeared, easily recognizable as an altar. And across the altar, bound and unmoving, lay a shape. A small shape. A boy-shape. And Diana's heart screamed loud enough to shatter glass -- already knowing he was dead before her eyes could confirm it.

"No. Oh dear Gods, no," Cal breathed. She reached and wrapped her arms around Di to physically restrain her as Ro snapped the bonds with her unsheathed weapon and scooped the boy's small frame off the altar. "Maybe it's not too late Di. We'll get him to Ares. Ares will heal him."

Diana didn't reply. She couldn't even move. Her mind and thoughts were suspended in a state of shock -- she couldn't make herself mentally comprehend that this had happened again.

I'm fine. Really. I'm fine. Jonathan is fine. I'm going to wake up any second and this will all be a bad dream. And we'll have breakfast together, like we always do. And it will all be forgotten. I'm fine.

"I'm fine," she spoke suddenly. Clearly. Her voice was unnaturally high and sing-song, but it didn't waver. "I'm fine. He's fine. We're fine. This is all a dream. I'm fine."

Ro hefted the boy gently, her arms stained with scarlet. Rivulets made streak-marks down her arms and pooled against the leather where she had his still body pressed against her. She cradled him close, hiding from Diana's sight the ripped flesh of his chest cavity, slit open to remove the boy's heart. She didn't mention that the liquid wasn't warm anymore or that the still body she held was too cold to be hanging on to life. She just looked at Cal, passing a silent message that they had to get both him and Diana out of there. They weren't safe there -- if anything was to be done, it couldn't be done here.

Like magic, Red and Dari materialized from the dimness, armed and deadly. Anyone else would have been given away by their footsteps, but no one walked lighter than the thief and assassin and even the hollow echo of the walls couldn't catch them up. As mutual friends recognized one another, daggers were mysteriously stowed on Dari's person, while Red's sword made a likewise disappearance. A cursory glance was all it took to appraise the situation and the two priestesses moved to flank Di protectively as Cal took charge, seeing Di was in no condition to make decisions.

"Darielle, I know Ares entrusted this mission to you," she began. "Normally I wouldn't step in, but we need to get Jonathan back to the temple immediately if Ares is going to heal him. There's no time to waste. Can you and Red see that the horses get safely back? I'm going to use my power to help Di teleport Ro, Jon and I all out of here."

"You bet," Dari assured and with a look, she and Red reluctantly left their grieving friend and dissolved into the black edges of the room again. Cal reached for Ro and drew her closer, wrapping her arms around both her and Di so they were both clasped as tight as could be in her embrace.

"Help me Di," she ordered, mostly to distract the gypsy's attention, but also because she could use the assistance. Transporting three people through the aether required no small amount of energy. And she was only half goddess. It took a moment before Di focused. Her look became sharp and she started breathing normally. It just now dawned on Calipso that she was breathing erratically before.

She pressed her hand into Cal's and gripped it. The quartet was enveloped in mingled blue and gold light as the aether opened and swelled to engulf them. They became dark, insubstantial shadows, unseen to the mortal eye as they traveled through. Though their progress was faster than thought, to Calipso it felt as if it was stretching on interminably. Rohanna ducked her auburn head, possibly dizzy from the whirling lights and stars around them, but she looked protective hunched over the prone boy in her arms. Diana's expression was impossible to read in the half light, so Calipso didn't try. It seemed like the trip was smoother than usual --odd considering their mortal guests-- but time faded away with the constrictions of space and the demi goddess was never so grateful when they arrived and the familiar surroundings of Ares Temple wavered and shimmered into view around them.

"Ares," called Calipso, striding immediately towards Ares who was just materializing himself from the aether. She reached him before he was fully visible and the first time she aimed for his wrist, her fingers passed right through him. The second time they curled around firm leather and she gripped his gauntlet firmly. She dragged him across the room, halting when they reached the unmoving form of Diana.

"The boy, we found him at Dahok's Temple -- he was like this already -- we didn't know Dahok had a temple, but he does and it's bad." The words spilled out in a tangled jumble until Calipso had to pause for breath. She rallied, gathered oxygen and thoughts and came back with, "Uncle Ares, please. Is there anything you can do for him?"

Ares chose to overlook the confusion and reached for the mangled body. Rohanna gently transferred him to the War God's arms. Even with the carnage she'd seen, it was unsettling. It was like care had been taken to deliberately mutilate the boy. It was an unmistakable message -- and a very, very vicious one. In the bright of the War Hall, there was nothing to disguise the slashed flesh rent into jagged strips, the torn, awkwardly bent limbs or the missing organ within and remaining dangling organs without. It was a grotesque macabre jigsaw and looked nothing like the child they had all come to love.

Ares caught two pieces of ripped flesh between his fingers and gazed at them, blood soaking the long digits, staining the silver of his ring. His jaw tightened and his black eyes blazed. In a sweeping motion, he ran a hand along the corpse and a golden glow cloaked them from view, pouring off the two forms like smoke in rich, colorful waves. When it evaporated there was a boy, fully intact, nestled in his arms. Complete -- but vacant. No spark of life. No stirring. No heartbeat.

"Without a heart, you can't restore him." Diana broke the silence. She sounded like herself again, but the words were like Jonathan. Empty. Vacant.

"You can't restore him, can you?"

Ares stared at her, feeling at a loss. It was clear to all he wanted to answer, but speech failed him. He cleared his throat and turned away. He laid the boy down very carefully across a nearby table and collected himself before turning back again. He was so soft when he spoke again.

"Diana," he reached for her, stopped himself and balled his fists stiffly at his sides instead. Frustration edged its way into the gruff tone. "No. I can't. I truly am so, so sorry."

Diana didn't move or speak. It was as if she became stone, frozen before their eyes. She lowered her head and a cloud of damp ebony enveloped her face, cutting her off from all eyes in the room. One by one the priestesses filed out. There was nothing they could do and they all realized that Diana would probably rather be alone now. Soon Ares alone remained. He kept looking at Diana like he wanted to wrap his arms around her, but smart as he was; he knew she'd never accept his comfort.

'Are you ok' drifted to his lips and was dismissed. Obviously she wasn't ok. He hesitated, thought hard and returned, "What can I do?"

Diana raised her head and locked eyes with him. Ares was shocked to see not a trace of tears. Instead there was heat shimmering in the emerald. Heat strong and fiery that spelled death in large, irreversible letters. Black rage, once brindled, now released, swept across the aether like an ocean wave and he felt it crash into his psych and tow him back out to a sea of emotion.

"I didn't kill him Diana."

Where did that come from? He didn't intend to say it. He wasn't even thinking it. But it found its way out of his mind nevertheless and by the searching way Diana studied him, she hadn't missed it, even amidst severe anger and grief.

"It doesn't matter now," she murmured.

"Yes, yes it does," he pressed, his voice raw with emotion. "I didn't kill him Diana. I mean. I did. But I didn't. Not in the way you think." His hand stole out and covered her shoulder. He rested it there, hoping she wouldn't strike it away. Growing more sure from her lack of retaliation, he stroked her shoulder gently, coaxingly. He leaned down until he could reach her damp head and left a butterfly kiss in the glossy morass.

"You are wrong. It doesn't matter. How could that possibly matter now?"

"But it does! It matters to me!"

Ares seemed to realize what he was doing. He pulled back as if burned and walked away, putting distance between him and Diana. He stroked his goatee before speaking again. His voice was gruff and terse. "I wasn't going to tell you this -- but I think I should. I was responsible for the boy's death -- ultimately. But Diana -- you have to understand. I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger. I would never do that to you."

"Oh you wouldn't?"

"No. Look, I wasn't the one who killed him the first time," Ares sighed. "I was responsible for his death because I sent for him -- sent someone to fetch him actually. I intended to take him away from you, to force you to listen to me. So when it came down to it, I was the responsible one only because if I hadn't insisted the boy be brought to me, he'd still been alive. But I didn't kill him."

Diana crossed her arms suspiciously. "Why didn't you ever tell me this?"

"Because I knew you'd seek revenge on the person who did it." Ares narrowed his eyes. "And I knew you'd kill them. Better for you go up against me -- than start a witch hunt for the real culprit."

"But you know who did it."

"Yes."

"Who?"

"That's not important now," Ares pivoted on a booted heel and strode away until he was facing the table where Jonathan lay. He braced both hands on the table edge and leaned over the lifeless boy, gazing down at him. "It was an accident back then -- and it's over and done now. What's important is that I should have prevented it the first time -- and I didn't. I was willing to take responsibility for that mistake. But not for this one. This time I am truly not to blame Diana. It's time you accepted that I am not the big bad wolf you make me out to be. And it's high time you took a good hard look at your life and priorities. Is that what you want gypsy? For the sins of your past to be taken out on the people you love?"

Diana stared at his leather-clad back in silence. Ares wasn't saying anything she hadn't thought herself. But right or wrong as he might be, she was in no mood to hear it. Her son just died. Again, godsdammit! If Ares was about to launch into another one of his 'winning her back to his side' campaigns, she'd. . . well, she'd. . .

She lowered her hand before she finished raising it. She was surly and snappish with him and for no reason. It wasn't Ares she was mad at. It wasn't Ares she hated. There was a new enemy in town, an enemy far worse than Ares ever dreamed of being.

Funny how weeks ago she'd felt so frozen it was like she was already dead -- and now all she could feel was heat uncurling inside her. Dahok had taken her family once. She was just a babe-in-arms then, not able to protect herself let alone eight other people. Now he'd done it again and this time Diana was a big girl and she could handle it. She'd teach Dahok not to mess with her life again. She'd seek revenge so vast and deep he'd think twice before he screwed with her a third time. But he was a big fish to fry, whale practically, and he had lots of help on his side. If she was going to take him down, she couldn't do it alone.

A devil's deal. How appropriate.

"Do you still want me Ares?"

She now had Ares undivided attention. He spun, interest in the dead body lost for renewed fascination in the gypsy.

"What was that?"

"You made your point. I've considered, reevaluated and come to the evitable conclusion." She dropped her gaze and unsheathed her weapon. Toying with the filigree engraved on the hilt, she murmured without looking at him, "Just how badly do you want me back Ares?"

Ares went still. Cautiously he stroked his goatee again, studying her. "I assume there is an unseen price tag dangling somewhere. You wouldn't make an offer if there wasn't. Tell me, what's it going to cost me for you to swallow your pride gypsy? Must be a high price because you'll be doing a lot of swallowing."

Diana didn't rise to the bait. She ignored his sarcasm and concluded with the finality of a coffin lid slamming, "Help me to take down Dahok. I want him out of Cenchrea -- out of Greece! For good! I want revenge for my son's blood. Help me take him down -- and you'll have me back War God. No negotiation this time. I'll be unconditionally, equivocally yours."

He slanted a black brow. Ares was partially amused, but undoubtedly surprised. He watched Diana as she twirled her sword handle expertly through her fingers. He never considered it before, but it had to be difficult to handle a sword with all those heavily jeweled rings she wore, not to mention the other costume jewelry weighing her down. And she fought in a skirt! Ares had worn one once himself --an incident which taught him that Pan's dares and too much laced punch didn't mix. Now neither god spoke much in public-- and though his memories were rather fuzzy, he did remember skirts had a habit of getting tangled around his legs at the most inopportune times. Granted for him that'd meant whilst wearing an incense holder on his head and dancing on his own altar, but he imagined they probably tangled up in battle too. But Diana never complained. She was as skilled a warrior as they came, and while she masked her abilities in colored skirts and mischievous penchant for practical jokes, there was no denying when Diana got serious the repercussions were deadly. Dahok had no idea what he let himself in for by pissing her off. And the Dark Lord just earned himself a front seat for all the hellacious anger his gypsy could unleash.

"Deal."

He extended a large hand, threading through jewelry to reach her slim wrist. Diana stared down at their joined appendages reflectively, but it took visible effort before she sheathed her sword and responded likewise, wrapping her fingers around his gauntlet. The warrior clasp was brief, yet binding. Ares released first, not because he didn't enjoy having her close, but because there were parts of her body he'd much rather fondle than her wrists.

"That's my gypsy," he crooned, soft because he didn't want to stir her anger further. While he'd love to be dancing to the triumphant tune of 'I told you so', he realized this was not the time. If he applied any more pressure to his gypsy, she would break. Strange. If there was one word he'd never thought of in reference to Diana, it was fragile. But no one could read her emotions as he could. And watching her shield unfathomable grief with sheer determination; it was the only word that sprang to mind.

Diana stared at him like he was her one link to sanity. Her eyes were wide and beguiling. Her hair, aided by humid warmth and no longer buffeted by the elements, resurrected its former glory and tumbled about her shoulders in wild, defiant curls. For once her mask slipped and she looked so small and hurt that Ares ached to pull her into his arms and comfort her. This wasn't his brat, his little spitfire. This was a wounded creature and he longed so badly to cover her mouth with his and kiss away her every fear, every worry. He wanted to tell her it'd be alright, that she could trust him to handle this. He wanted to take away her pain. He wanted to do all these things -- but before he could blink, Diana drew herself up and cast aside her vulnerability, covering it with a shroud of inner strength. Her eyes crystallized, her slender body went rigid. And the soft voice with which she'd addressed him transformed into the petulant one he knew so well.

"Right. So what's the plan, Boss?"

Ares forced back his feelings and coasted mentally to the present. "First, you need to get some rest, my sweet." He lifted a hand, cutting off her objection. "No. It's late and you are beyond the point of exhaustion. There is nothing more that can be done tonight. Go. Sleep. In the morning, we'll make further plans."

To her surprise, he bent and kissed her gently. It was a chaise kiss, but also an expectant one. Diana wouldn't anticipate such restraint from her dark god, but it was like he couldn't bear to part from her without a touch of affection. She wasn't sure what to make of him. Not that before she ever was, but this felt different. Something in their relationship had changed -- forever. And she wasn't sure whether this was a good thing or bad one.

He straightened and smiled at her, black eyes twinkling merrily. He looked too handsome, as always, both insolent and delightfully wicked.

"Good night Diana." He disappeared, leaving the gypsy to ply her dismissal to an empty room.

"A good night? May it be so," she whispered, frozen in place. At length she strolled across the empty floor and knelt by the altar where her son lay, lowering her head until it connected with cold stone. She lay there, unspeaking, unmoving for a long time. It might have been a prayer, if she had any hope or strength left with which to pray. It ended when she stood, placed two fingers against her lips and took the impression to place against her son's cold forehead.

"I love you."

She left and for the first time ever voluntarily obeyed Ares by dropping into bed, not even bothering to undress first, where until daylight she knew nothing more.