Dr. Maru watched the guests walking down the receiving line, many of them flushed with the excitement of meeting the Kaiser. That excitement became muted when they came face to face with her. She wished she were back in the lab, double-checking everything, making sure all was ready, and that the bodies of the men she and Ludendorff had gassed had been properly disposed of.
A number of people asked her when von Hindenburg was going to arrive. The Armistice was his to celebrate, and the party would be incomplete until he appeared. General Ludendorff had been so wise to dispose of von Hindenberg and his fellow weaklings. She had prepared a response for the question; each she shrugged as if there was nothing to worry about and replied that she had heard he had been “delayed” but would arrive soon. Very soon.
But that answer would not satisfy them for long. Even the Kaiser was beginning to shift uneasily and scan the throng for that familiar face. More and more guests were beginning to look at watches and to murmur among themselves.
The next time she came abreast of Ludendorff, she said, “They’re starting to ask where von Hindenburg and the others are.”
“Soon it won’t matter,” he replied, his attention elsewhere. That was true. But as the lag leading up to their demonstration dragged out, she began to lose her poise. Everything must work flawlessly. It was one thing to run an experiment in the lab. But this would be the first real test of her brainchild. And if it didn’t work—
It will work, she told herself. You have tested and retested every single component. The trajectory is correctly calibrated. And you know what the gas will do.
Chandeliers and candles gleamed. There was so much glitter and glamor, men in uniforms and formalwear dancing with ladies in all the latest fashions, clusters murmuring and laughing and sampling the fine Belgian delicacies including chocolates. She hadn’t even had time to arrange her hair, find a more flattering dress.
Irrelevant, she thought, and she moved to a fireplace, seeking composure as she gazed into the flames and waited.
* * *
Here goes nothing, Steve thought, as he plucked two glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and approached the woman he had come to regard as a mad scientist. How else to explain why she took such glee in the horrors she inflicted on her victims?
“Excuse me,” he said to Dr. Maru, who appeared to be lost in thought as she gazed into the flames of a cheery fire. He held up the glasses, his opening play.
“I don’t drink.” She blinked and wrinkled her forehead. “Have we met?”
This was a gamble. If she recognized him, he was in big trouble. It was unfortunate that he hadn’t been able to smuggle in more of the team. His thoughts flickered with an image of Diana, whom Maru and Ludendorff had never seen. No. Diana wouldn’t have contented herself with espionage. She would move directly into action—attacking Ludendorff in the middle of the party, and never mind the consequences. Steve had done the right thing… but what if Dr. Maru realized he was the spy who had stolen the notebook?
“No, but I’ve been watching you,” he replied, injecting warmth into his voice as he regarded the monstrous woman. He forced himself to focus on her eyes and not look down at the eerie flesh-colored plates. “Following your career. I mean, you’re Dr. Isabel Maru, the most talented chemist in the German Army. I’m a fan.”
He briefly shifted his gaze to Ludendorff, and she caught him. He covered, thinking fast. “I hope I’m not crossing a line. I hear you and General Ludendorff are very close.”
Her back visibly stiffened. The uncovered side of her mouth drew into a thin line.
“We work well together, yes,” she replied.
That was his cue to turn on the charm. He smiled flirtatiously. “I’m sure he provides a great deal of support for you and your work, but having someone like me behind you…” He let that double entendre work its way to her. “…I could provide a lot more.”
His words did not have the desired effect. There was no pink in her exposed cheek, no eye blink, nothing to suggest that his flattery was welcome. But she did regard him more closely.
“And who are you?” she said.
He realized that the standard rules of seduction did not apply in this case. She knew she wasn’t beautiful or desirable. He reasoned that compliments meant to turn her head had to be directed at a different target.
“A man who would show you the appreciation a genius like yourself deserves,” he said.
Dr. Maru stared into the fire. There. A tiny smile gleamed from the mobile half of her mouth. Yes, focusing on her intelligence. That had hit home. In a big way. He definitely had her attention now.
“I love fire, don’t you?” he asked silkily. “It’s like a living act of entropy. The ultimate weapon of destruction reminding us that, in the end, everything eventually returns to the ash it once came from. There’s something… reassuring about it.”
From her reaction, he could tell that she liked that analogy. She turned to him and again stared deeply into his eyes. He fought to keep his expression warm and sexy, but he felt as if he were facing down a cobra. Having seen firsthand what she was capable of, it was difficult not to flinch at her slightest move.
“I see all that in your eyes,” he added, doubling down. What did the Brits say? In for a penny, in for a pound…
Yes, yes, she was buying it. She needed to be appreciated for her accomplishments by a man smart enough to know she was smart. Maybe he could get her to show off.
“Perhaps you could tell me what you’re working on? I hear it is extraordinary.”
She parted the right side of her lips, preparing to speak. At last, the answers he needed. He remained calm… outwardly.
And then… out of the corner of his eye…
Oh. My. God.
He stopped breathing. Everything stopped. Diana stood at the top of the stairs. She glowed in a deep blue gown; her head was held high, regal; her hair was swept up, revealing the long column of her neck. No, no, he thought, as she turned her head and her expression shifted to a predatory scan of the room, undetectable to anyone who didn’t know her field techniques.
But he did.
As Diana turned a bit more, he caught sight of the crossguard, grip, and pommel of the Godkiller, which she had slid down the back of her gown. To the untrained eye, it looked like part of the decoration of the dress. She was prepared to kill Ludendorff here and now, but if she did, it wouldn’t stop the Germans from using their new weapon. It would only get the team killed.
And it looked like Maru was about to tell him everything they needed to know. Once they had the details, they could run their own covert operation. They didn’t need to come out in the open like this, on a suicide mission.
“I appreciate your interest in my work,” Maru said, “but I am loyal to General Ludendorff. Besides, now I see your attention is directed elsewhere.” She laughed sharply, and Steve understood that she had busted him for staring at Diana.
Then Diana looked straight at Ludendorff. Their gazes locked. Steve could see she was studying him intently. He saw a flicker of emotion in her intense concentration. Was she now uncertain that Ludendorff was Ares? Would that stay her hand and keep the mission intact?
What is she going to do?
* * *
Diana walked towards the being who was her destiny. Every footfall echoed in her head. She heard her heartbeat and—so strangely—the ticking of Steve’s watch. Was she right that this was Ares? From a distance the general looked all too human. She sharpened her senses, staring at him with a warrior’s eyes. Should she feel something emanating from him? Could she sense the depth of his power? How did one know when one was in the presence of a God—the God who had killed all the Gods?
I feel nothing unusual. What of him? Could he tell who she was? That she was his nemesis, the Amazon who had come to bring peace to humankind?
Her heart was thundering as she closed the gap. Everything depended on this moment. Stealth was one of her gifts. The defeat of her foe was another. She could almost feel the Godkiller leaping into her hand, and then the smooth, well-aimed thrust. The world’s suffering would end. The chains of evil would fall to dust.
If she was right.
Then he grabbed her. She prepared to fight back—
—and as he put his arm around her, he began to sway.
To dance.
With her.
His hungry look… his arrogance. She studied him, searching for proof positive that he was the God of War. Locked in his arms, she could not reach for the Godkiller without interrupting the charade of manners he had forced her into. She had not expected that. She wondered if he could hear her thundering heartbeat, the pump of her blood. The blade of the Godkiller pressed against her spine. She sent a silent thank you to Steve— wherever he was in this place—for teaching her how to dance in the approved way. She could keep up this masquerade for as long as was necessary. She stayed focused on him as party guests milled and danced past gleaming candelabras and glittering jewels, oil paintings and magnificent statues. He was imposing and regal, clearly at home amid the splendor.
“Enjoying the party?” Ludendorff asked her.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I confess I’m not sure what we’re celebrating tonight.”
“A German victory, of course,” he said with relish.
“‘Victory?’” she echoed. “When I hear peace is so close?” He smiled. “‘Peace is only an armistice in an endless war.’”
It was a famous quotation. Her heart turned over in her chest. She understood what he was saying. And whose words he was using to say them:
“Thucydides,” she replied, referring to the Greek general who had written about the long, terrible war between the Spartans and the Greeks. Mnemosyne, Diana’s last tutor, had forced her to memorize long passages of his work. She had told Diana that Thucydides was one of Hippolyta’s favorites—and by that she meant both the work and the man.
“You know your Ancient Greeks,” he said. “They understood that War is a God. A God that requires human sacrifice.”
Her pulse quickened. Who would say such a thing besides Ares himself? She willed herself to remain calm. To dance. To bide her time until the proper moment.
“And in exchange, war gives man purpose, meaning,” he continued. “A chance to rise above his petty, mortal little self and be noble, better than he is.” He raised his chin. His eyes glinted. He believed what he was saying absolutely. It was his code.
There was no question now. This is Ares. A strange quiet came over her. She felt as if she had been born to do this. To take her sword and end him. She would let nothing, neither man nor God, stop her from fulfilling her destiny.
She became aware that he was waiting for her to speak. Her nerve endings were sparking; her blood boiled.
“Only one of the many Gods believed in that… and he was wrong,” she replied. She wanted desperately to grab her sword, but he was still holding her hand in the dance position. She knew that when she made her move she had to be unencumbered. There could be no way for him to escape.
“You know nothing about the Gods,” he said, taking a deep breath. And in that moment, the horns on a statue directly behind him seemed to protrude from Ludendorff’s own head. He looked like Ares in her mother’s triptych, gazing down with malice at the human race.
It is he. I am in Ares’s arms. I am inches from his heart, and I have the Godkiller. It is time.
But a soldier approached and hovered doggedly behind him as they danced. She gauged her ability to strike with the man so close. She must not be interfered with. “General?” the man said.
Ludendorff looked over his shoulder, then checked his watch. He let go of Diana and retreated a step, conferring with the man.
Then he turned back to Diana. “Enjoy the fireworks,” he said.
I must do it now. The shouts of Gods and Amazons chorused in her heart as she reached over her back again for the grip of her sword.
Before she could touch it, Steve moved between them, facing her. Smoothly, he pulled her away from the general, taking her hand, turning her—and starting to dance with her, as Ludendorff had done.
“What are you doing? Out of my way,” she demanded. It was barely a dance, more like a wrestling match.
He locked gazes with her. His mouth was set. “Diana, look at me. If you kill Ludendorff before we find the gas, we won’t be able to stop anything.”
After all this time, did he still not grasp the truth? She could not conceal her impatience and frustration. “It won’t matter,” she said, putting emphasis on every syllable. “I will stop Ares.”
“What if you’re wrong, Diana? What if there is no Ares?”
She gaped at him. “You don’t believe me,” she said. After all he had seen, all she had done, he still did not believe? No, he did not. He had lied to her, led her on all this time. Why? To get off our island. To escape back into this blood-drenched world and its horrible war. No matter. He had served as her messenger, summoning her to her destiny. Ares was real, and he was here.
But still, it hurt. Despite all appearances to the contrary, she was alone in a strange world. Her mission was not Steve’s, and never would be.
He searched her face. “I can’t let you do this.”
“What I do is not up to you,” she said. He held her tightly, as if to dispute that fact. She pushed him away with the tips of her fingers, expending the slightest effort but sending him reeling off-balance. Ignoring Steve’s wounded expression, she looked around for Ludendorff.
He was nowhere to be seen.
He’s gone! Diana thought, and she broke into a run. Grasping what was happening, Steve followed on her heels. Together they dashed around party guests and military officers, then burst outside through an open door.
There!
Steve joined her as they ran down a long dark hallway, bursting out onto a stone bridge. Ludendorff was disappearing through a turret door on their right. They began to follow; then there was a whoosh; they gazed up to the top of the turret as a projectile launched into the sky. It looked like a shooting star, but it was traveling away from the earth, not towards it. Fire arrows? No. No arrow could leave a trail of flame like that in its wake.
Coming up beside her out of breath, Steve wheezed, “The gas.”
They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the path of the missile across the sky. Diana calculated the trajectory in flight—and realized to her horror what the target was:
“The village!” she cried. Their village, Veld, all the people they had saved—
They ran then, across the bridge and past scattered partygoers who had come to see the show. A few startled glances were shot their way: a German officer pursuing a beautiful woman? Too much champagne?
Among the trees, Steve lost her as she dashed ahead and mounted her horse. She took off at a full gallop, and he could only watch.
In a fury, she raced against death, and time itself. The missile arched high up, up into the sky.
And then it disappeared over the horizon with its payload of death.