AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Need more kick ass ladies and the men that love them? Keep reading for a sample of ASTERION, the first book in my bestselling ‘Court of the Underworld’ series.
ASTERION
PROLOGUE
Sing, O’ Muse, of the seasons of the world and how all that was lost was found again.
Sing, of how gods and mythical creatures once roamed the lands of Greece, and of how Man became powerful, and the gods were forced into hiding.
Sing, of when Greece’s economy collapsed and the land was on fire with the turmoil man’s governance had wrought.
Sing, of how the gods returned to build a new world from the ashes.
Sing, O’ Muse, of the new city of Styx, and the monsters that govern its underworld.
Sing to me a new song, of a Minotaur, a Labyrinth, and a Woman…
1.
Ariadne's hands were aching by the time the man's final breath came out in a wheeze of feta, onions, and sour wine.
"Gross," she muttered, as she unwound the braid of golden threads from around his fat, sweaty neck. She snapped off one of the threads from the braid before she twisted it back around her wrist, turning it into a harmless bracelet once more.
Using the broken golden thread, she tied the dead man's hands together in an elaborate cat's cradle. It was hermodus operandi, a special way of letting his associates know just who was responsible for this kill. The cradle formed the symbol for 'abuser' in a language only Ariadne and her dead sister knew, her way of honoring Lia's restless shade in the afterlife.
Even gentle Lia would have approved of this death.
Ariadne scattered photos of Botsaris's beaten and raped wife around his body. Botsaris had been a pig of a man, and he'd squealed like one as he died. He'd given names, deals, offered her money, but she had held on until he stopped thrashing.
Ariadne shoved the little black dress she'd been wearing into her oversized designer tote, before pulling out a bundle containing her tights and a singlet top and putting them on. Without looking at the bloated Botsaris, Ariadne slipped out the back door of the house overlooking Korinthos beach.
Botsaris had been a cheating, abusive bastard, so no one would look twice at the blonde as she walked off the property and into the still busy nighttime streets.
Ariadne dumped the tote bag, and the blonde wig into a bin at the train station and cursed under breath when she saw the red lines across her calloused palms. Botsaris had fought harder than she expected, and even with her callouses, she would end up with some bruising. She had no time to worry about it as she ran to catch her train.
Wedged between a group of teens and two arguing old women, Ariadne settled back into her comfortable anonymity and watched the lights of the city of Styx grow closer.
Almost twenty years beforehand, the ancient city of Corinth had been burned to the ground in the civil war. The collapse of Greece's economy, and the riots and military action that followed, had left many of the major cities in ruined war zones.
Corinth had been one of the worst affected. That was when Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, arrived and claimed the rubble that had been left. In less than twenty years, the city had been rebuilt and was turning a profit again.
Hades wasn't the only Old God that had come out of hiding, but the new city of Styx recovered the fastest, and Greece's new currency, the Nea Drachmae, had come pouring in.
Ariadne had her doubts as to whether the god of the dead thing was true, but she did know they had to be somethingother. Hades had been prominent in the news since the Great Collapse, and whenever the cameras managed the rare shot of him, he still looked like a sleek forty-something businessman.
Whatever Hades was, his media queen Medusa was made of the same stuff. CEO of Serpentine Industries, her skyscraper sat only a few floors lower than Hades's own pillar of black stone and steel. She ran a constant PR campaign worldwide to encourage trade and tourism to Styx, and it worked. Her blood-red hair and green eyes were famous the world over.
As for the rumor that she had snakes in her hair, Ariadne had never seen them in any of Medusa's news programs. She was a recluse, but with the internet at her feet, Medusa didn't ever have to leave Serpentine Tower again.
Like most kids in the Hellas District, Ariadne had grown up in the shadow of those two monstrous towers and with the rumors about the members of the Court of Styx.
There was a running joke internationally that Hades had come back to make the New York City of Greece and had ended up with Gotham instead. The people who lived in Styx didn't find this joke amusing because they knew that Hades Acheron would eat the toughest of Gotham for breakfast before picking his teeth with Batman's bones.
Only the tough survived on the streets of Styx, but despite its dark underbelly, Ariadne still loved the chaotic, violent, and often beautiful sprawl of it.
Ariadne made it back to her apartment just as the sun was rising. It was a tiny one-bedroom in a slightly less dodgy neighborhood than the one she was born in.
It was the one place in the world that felt like home. She had filled it with pieces of furniture and art from thrift shops and even managed to keep a house plant alive. It wasn't much. It certainly wasn't the opulent luxury she'd be living in if she had stayed at the Temple, but at least she didn't feel like every moment she was there, her debt was rising.
