WAR GOD

Chapter 6

Vera sighed and looked around warily, taking in the suspicious looks of the few remaining guests, some with tears and pity in their eyes but with unmistakable underlying suspicion.

"Please lead the way," Vera said, turning her attention back to the detective, she cast a quick glance at her mother with a reassuring nod.

Catherine stifled a sob and sniffed instead, understanding the nod her daughter gave. She knew undoubtedly that her daughter wasn't guilty. Vera could be anything, anything at all stubborn, strict, and even defiant, but not a murderer.

She was just angry that Vera left a few minutes before Steve's body was found lifeless in his room in what seemed to be a suicide, and considering the fact that her daughter and Steve didn't see eye to eye, which wasn't a secret, made her even more of a major suspect

Yes, she somewhat hated Steve and his guts, but not to the extent of having his blood on her hands, she had no reason to.

Vera followed the detective briskly making sure to not let her demeanor waver or her head hang, she didn't do it and wouldn't give even the slightest impression of being guilty, especially when she was not.

With head held high, lips pursed and eyes bright and a majestic swing to her hips, She clutched her purse tightly to her side as she walked across the hall with the officer just a few steps ahead of her, her stilettos making click sounds on the cream marble floor with each bold step she took, keeping her gaze straight ahead she was determined to not let these judgmental looks get to her.

A well-groomed maid held the door for them, Vera wasn't exactly prepared for the fresh air to hit her face as she stepped outside the house, she inhaled sharply, filling her lungs with warm evening air. It was nice to be out of that hall which smelt like luxurious cologne, wine, and assorted expensive cuisine.

The evening sun shone brightly, and beautiful rays bounced off her beautiful ivory skin, she barely had time to admire the setting sun before flashes of light from cameras had her blocking her eyes with her arm. Microphones and recorders were thrust towards her from every angle. 

The thoughts of how humiliating this was and the impact it would have on her company and her reputation flashed through my mind immediately after she caught sight of the paparazzi that lurked around, she watched with frantic eyes as police officers tried to keep them in check.

The last time Vera had this many paparazzi was three years ago, she thought, when she officially became the CEO after her marriage to Ivan. She had a little déjà vu moment just before the voice of an officer brought her back from her reminiscing.

"Ma'am, please get in," the officer said, holding the door to the back seat of a police car open for her.

Vera took one final glance at Anderson's mansion before moving to enter the car. Ignoring the calls and questions from the reporters and stepping gracefully into the car. 

She was strongly resolved to keep her cool.

She was greeted by a nauseating smell, one she couldn't quite decipher, somewhat a mixture of strong male cologne, cigarette, stale food and what she could swear was urine, which was a considerable contrast compared to the fresh air she felt earlier.

She scanned the interior of the car carefully taking notes of the specks of dirt, cigar ends, and an empty can of soda.

Furthermore, she wrinkled her nose, clearly showing her distaste.

"This is what I get for not listening to my guts, I should've just stayed home" she mumbled under her breath as the car sped away. 

 ***

Hermès took long firm strides and slipped unnoticed into his car, he let out a long breath he didn't even notice he held it all the while and massaged his temple with strong steady fingers stealthy scanning his environment before putting his key in the ignition.

It came as a little shock to him that Steve Anderson was human, for the longest time, the Sect had thought he was one of the new gods. He acted it, but that pool of red blood on his cream-colored rug proved otherwise.

 Hermes let out a soft chuckle, the boy was just a spoiled mama's boy who had a bit of power because his dad was a CEO of a million-dollar company. Now, this would certainly make him think twice before concluding that all rich douchebags are new gods.

The sect would surely not see this one coming, he thought as he reached into the compartment of his car to get his phone, contemplating for a bit if he should call Ivan yet or deliver the news in person.

The part of him that wants to see Ivan's reaction to the message of Steve being human won, he dropped the phone and continued driving, taking in the view of the busy streets and passers-by.

The sun was slowly crawling away and dark was around the corner, the sunset cast beautiful orange rays on the rims of the windows as Hermit pulled in front of the giant gate. He reached out to press a button just below his steer, and the gates made a beep sound before opening.

Ivan's a man of great taste, so yes, his gates are electronically controlled, and only certain specific people have access to them. 

Hermès slowly drove into the beautiful compound, it had a fountain at the center and a blossoming garden around, and a giant front door.

Hermès cut off the ignition, took his phone, and stepped out of the car, he took hurried steps to the front door and pushed it open, letting himself in.

Ivan was sitting at his desk going through some paperwork, although he trusted Hermès to do a fantastic job with the company, the fact remains that he had a lot to do himself. 

No one can treat a child better than his father and this company was his brainchild, Three years was a long time, and he had some catching up to do, and he was fully prepared.

He was impressed by how much work Hermès had put in to hold the forth, not just his company but the sect together while he was away, he made a mental note to thank him and maybe throw in a gift.

The door opened too swiftly, making Ivan jolt from his seat, he looked up to see Hermès just before he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Hermes, you know there's something called 'knocking' right?" Ivan asked.

"Uhm, too bad I don't" Hermès replied mischievously. Helping himself to a sit.

Hermès had a bad habit of barging into rooms and slamming doors, which Ivan considered an mannerless behavior. He knew not to talk to Hermès about it, the boy was a little too stubborn for his good.

"Good news?" Ivan asked. 

"Uhhh, More like a discovery" Hermès answered, pausing to let it sink and get a reaction from Ivan.

"What do you mean, Hermès?" Ivan asked, not lifting his head from the paperwork in front of him. 

"Steve is dead" 

"As he should be" Ivan mumbled, scribbling on a file 

"And he is human" 

That drew Ivan's attention from the stack of papers on the desk, he stared at Hermès with stern eyes, looking for signs of the possibility of that statement being a joke but found none.

He cleared his throat quickly, masking every sign of surprise.

"I was surprised when the bullet pierced through his forehead and red blood gushed out" Hermès stated, brushing off invisible dirt from his suit pants.

"Good job Hermès," Ivan said in finality, with a little nod.

"Anytime" Hermès answered, standing up to leave.

"Hermes!"  Ivan called. 

"Do not slam the door after you"   He said in a strict voice and a stern look to accompany it.

Hermès gave a submissive bow and walked out, shutting the door ever so slowly behind him, he knew how Ivan could be when his warnings were not heeded, and he didn't plan to be unfortunate enough to fall under Ivan's wrath, at least not today.

***

Ares came to a stop in front of her, slightly leaning on his desk with his legs stretched out, his left leg lazily crossed in front of the right.

He watched her with intent eyes, taking in her disheveled appearance, her unblinking wide eyes with tears at the corners, trembling breaths, and hands. This wasn't the Sara he remembered.

Frankly speaking, she looked pathetic, and it was a good thing they found her, and Ares would make her remember who she was before the disaster that was the old gods.

Sara wondered who this man was and why his name rang some sort of bell in her memory, She felt his cold hard stare on her and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clutching her walking stick tightly to her bosom. It wasn't just an ordinary stare, the intensity of it was boring through her skin and she could feel it.

His stare was soul-searching, she gulped trying to swallow the giant lump that had formed in her throat from the mere anxiety that this man's presence had instilled in her. She could sense he was powerful in a way she couldn't quite completely phantom.

Ares sensed how uncomfortable she was and averted his gaze ever so slightly, he tried his hardest to merge this Sara in front of him with the Sara he knew but they seemed like two extremely diverse people.

This Sara was weak, ill, and broken, the old Sara was strong, fierce, fiery, and very much healthy.

And he was more than ready to bring back the old Sara, he'd lost her once, and he wouldn't let that happen again.