Dream Warrior

DREAM WARRIOR (Chapter 1)

New Orleans, 2009
6,000 years later . . .
Roughly
(Give or take a few centuries . . .)

Delphine paused to get her bearings as she looked around the old buildings with iron-work balconies or elaborate wood trim, many of which had boards over their windows. What a strange city . . . but then she wasn't used to being in the mortal realm except through human dreams. There the world of man looked entirely different.

This extremely loud and bright place baffled her. Not to mention the awful smell of something she thought might be manure of some kind . . .

She jumped as a loud, rude sound startled her while a car went speeding past.

Phobos grabbed her arm and yanked her to stand beside him on the uneven sidewalk. "Be careful. If a car hits you, it will hurt."

"Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

He nodded before he glanced about the street where several cars were parked in front of a row of houses that were so close together, she wondered if they didn't share a common wall.

"The garage should be that one over there."

She looked to where he was pointing. Landry's Garage, Detail and Repair. "Are you sure he's there?"

Phobos gave her a droll stare. "His presence isn't what's in doubt, his reception of us is. We'll be lucky if he doesn't gut us both faster than Noir would." He wiped his hand over his brow to remove some of the perspiration. But it was quickly replaced by more.

She'd never been in a hotter place in her life. Poor Phobos, wearing all black clothes, wasn't exactly dressed for it, either. He looked as miserable in the heat as she felt. She'd always thought of him as one of the more attractive gods with his exceptionally dark hair and sharp features.

Tall and lithe, he moved fluidly and fast. Something that terrified his enemies and made him deadly in a fight. His job was to inspire dread, and at one time he and his twin brother, Deimos, had wreaked havoc on ancient battlefields. In more recent centuries, they'd become warriors for the Furies, punishing anyone who crossed the gods.

Until two days ago when everything had changed . . .

She shivered at the memory. Even though she should feel nothing, her stomach was still knotted over the horror she'd witnessed. They were still trying to piece their world back together after Noir's vicious attack.

"How did we get chosen for this again?" she asked him.

"We weren't there when Zeus banished him and therefore he shouldn't hate us as much as he hates the other gods." He snorted derisively. "Most importantly, we're part of the handful who is neither imprisoned nor dead."

That was comforting . . .

Not at all.

And it didn't mean Cratus would listen to them, never mind actually help them. "You think we stand a chance?"

"Like an icicle on the equator. But Cratus pulls his powers from the same primal Source that birthed Noir. Without him on our team, we're completely screwed."

She still wasn't sure about this. Zeus had sent them here to beg a favor from an ex-god who most likely would gut them as soon as they appeared. She'd never met Cratus, but his nasty reputation was legendary.

He had mercy on no one.

His brutality had only been matched by his single-minded determination. Even though Zeus had bound his god powers, the other gods continued to fear him. That alone said...