Expelled

Sage blinked. What had he just said?

"Let me go," her voice wasn't breathy anymore – it was cold. Ares' eyes brightened with interest. She didn't don armour when she fought her battles, but she armoured her voice instead. She filled it with ice. "Let me go, or I'll scream."

"Scream?" He barked a laugh – was that supposed to frighten him? Sage's gaze narrowed.

"I'll scream and people will come running."

"Are these 'people' supposed to frighten me?"

"What I'll tell them might frighten you, Space man."

"What part of 'I'm here to protect you' was too hard for you to understand?"

"You missed out what you're supposedly protecting me from."

"My family."

Sage foundered at that. She hadn't expected him to answer. She stared up at him, hating how small she felt with him towering over her.

"What are you?"

Her heart trembled. She'd finally asked the question – finally admitted out loud that he wasn't human.

She clenched her hand around her bag of recycling. If he laughed, if he had a completely legitimate reason for having gold blood – that would be a relief.

"I'm war."

...

"What?"

Ares leant down close, his lips almost brushing against her skin.

"The untamed parts." His voice was soft, its sinister edge making her tremble. "The bloodshed, the violence – the sheer brutality. I'm all of that."

Sage shook her head. That didn't make any sense...

"So, little mortal," he continued – his gaze menacing. "Never attempt to threaten me again."

**

Sage eyed Ares dubiously. They were sat on plastic chairs on Castle Hill, the best place for food. People bustled around them – eating, chatting, shouting and drinking. Occasionally motorbikes tried to get by, having to weave and slow between the clusters of people. Ares clinked his beer against hers.

"To the beginning of a profitable relationship." He toasted.

Sage drank her beer – less because of the toast and more because she needed a drink.

"Let me get this straight," she rubbed her aching head. "You think that I can help you get home."

He nodded. "Home being?"

He pointed skywards. Sage drank more beer.

Their food arrived – steaming hot.

"That was fast," Sage commented, bemused. Ares tore of a piece of bread and dipped it into the cauldron of sauce – closing his eyes appreciatively at the taste.

"One of the perks of eating with me – you get to enjoy great service." He winked at her. Sage ate her chicken thoughtfully. She looked around – but the street was so crowded and noisy that nobody seemed to be paying them any attention.

"You have powers, right? That's how you can open locked doors and..." She looked down at the feast on the wobbly table between them. "Get your food quicker?"

He nodded. "Can you do anything more... I don't know... more like from a movie? A bit flashier."

Ares scowled. Was she unimpressed?

"You're being rude again."

Ares dug into his meat, his brow creasing. She was such a strange mortal. She wasn't fawning over him or flattering him. Was she mentally deficient somehow?

Didn't she realise how people are supposed to act around gods?

"Sorry," Sage mumbled- picking up her beer again. She glanced around them, watching people sharing food and drinking. Last week, they'd been hiding from the street violence – Castle Hill had been a war-zone. Now, it was already being treated as a distant memory. This was how her neighbourhood worked - the deep scars weren't talked about. She listened to the laughter, the bantering and tears pricked her eyes.

She downed the last of her beer and reached for another one, using the edge of the table to remove the top.

"What about Jaz, are you protecting him too?"

"He's not in danger." Ares dismissed.

"But I am? Is it because they saw me help you on the street?"

"Sage?"

Sage looked up at the sound of her name being called and froze. Ezekiel approached them, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowded street. He stood over them – his attention fixed on Sage. Sage stared at him, scanning his face for any fresh injuries. She hadn't seen him since the night he'd stayed on her sofa – she'd wondered how he was doing.

"Hi," Sage greeted softly. Ares reached across the table, helping himself to an olive. Sage glanced from Ares to Ezekiel. Did this look like she was on a date? "This is-" She faltered. Introducing Ares stumped her. She couldn't call him her friend. What was he then? Her protector? "Ares."

Ezekiel approached the next table – glaring at them until a guy rose from his chair.

"You can have it..." The man mumbled. Without a word, Ezekiel took the chair and plonked it down beside Sage – sitting between her and Ares. Sage bit her lip, the temperature was becoming arctic. But Ares didn't seem to notice.

"Beer?" He offered Ezekiel a bottle.

Ezekiel's fist clenched around the bottle's neck and Sage wondered if they were all about to be covered in broken glass. But Ares stood up suddenly, his smile gone.

"I'll be back." He murmured to her, but his gaze was scanning the street. Sage watched Ares uneasily – reading his suddenly tense stance. Was his family here? She reached out to stop Ares from leaving but Ezekiel swatted her hand out of the way.

"Who is that guy?" Ezekiel asked, scowling. Sage twisted in her seat, wanting to see which way Ares had gone, but the crowded street had swallowed him up. She gave up and faced Ezekiel. The Mad Dog's gaze was hard but she wasn't intimidated. He didn't scare her anymore.

"I told you – his name is Ares."

"How do you know him?"

"He comes to the shop."

Ezekiel's lip spasmed – the tremble was disconcerting because it was independent from the rest of his face. Sage wondered how he'd gotten the injury.

"He asked you out?"

She shook her head.

"This isn't a date."

He removed the cap from the beer and drank deeply.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Good," Ezekiel asserted. Sage laughed suddenly. She covered her mouth – surprised by her own outburst. "What?"

"It's been a weird day," she leant forward and clinked her glass against his. "Cheers."

Ezekiel watched Sage drink and his heart skipped a beat. She tilted her head back, her hair cascading down her slender back. Her brow puckered slightly from the bitter taste and she swallowed it slowly. His gaze trailed down her neck – lingering on her soft skin. He wanted this woman. He wanted to touch her hair. To kiss her neck. To hold her close.

Ares looked up and down the street. He could feel it – the presence of another god. His fingers flexed. He couldn't reveal his sword in a street this crowded. His eyes glowed vibrant gold, penetrating the gloom. They were close by - whoever it was. Ares breathed in deeply. Every god and goddess had an essence. If he could recognise the essence, he'd at least know who he was up against.

He conjured in his grip a throwing star. The sharp blade was black as the night, its edges listening – wet with the blood of a gorgon. It wouldn't kill an immortal but it would injure them - badly.

The crowd shifted and Ares caught the scent. Sex, caffeine, lilac... and wet feathers.

Ares growled under his breath, his incisors elongating. Eros.

Eros, the mischievous cupid, was here. Ares threw the star, the motion unseen by the blinkered humans. It fell uselessly against Eros' shields. Ares scanned the rooftops. Eros had been missing, presumed dead, for a thousand years. What had coaxed the god of desire out of hiding? His evil bitch mother perhaps?

Ares threw the star with lethal grace. Eros' shields cracked and Ares saw him at last – perched on the rooftop. He had his bow and arrow out, the string pulled back and the arrow aimed. But it wasn't aimed at Ares.

Ares' horrified gaze went to Sage.

"NO!"

Eros released and the arrow hurtled through the air – crackling with magic.

A love arrow!

Sage cried out in surprise when somebody barrelled into her. She fell from her chair and hissed, her back smacking against the tarmac. A set of arms were wrapped around her but she pushed against them – trying to get free.

"Ares?" She exclaimed, realising whose arms she was in. "What are you doing?"

Ares stared down at her. He blinked - his gaze unfocused. As if he was in a daze.

"Sage?" Ezekeial was on his feet and hurrying over to them, ready to pummel Ares to a pulp. But Ares didn't notice the angry mortal – his attention was fixed on Sage and he was staring at her, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Ares?"

Ares was lying over her, crushing her a little with his weight. Sage frowned, confused, as he continued to stare at her. He moved his hand from her waist and tenderly stroked her face.

"I'm in love with you," he seemed stunned.

"Get off her!" Ezekiel barked.

"Ares?" Sage felt him slump against her. Had he fallen asleep? "Ares?" She shook him. Ezekiel grabbed Ares by the scruff and attempted to lift him off Sage.

What neither of them could see was the magic arrow embedded in Ares' back.

On the rooftop above them, Eros lowered his bow. He pulled up the hood of his cloak, hiding his handsome face, and retreated into the shadows.