A bloodied battlefield lay before the god of War. His bounty had been plenty, gold, women, cattle, control of yet another part of Greece. Their fate had been sealed. It was time for him to claim his conquest in person.

Ares jumped off the cloud and landed with a thud, several feet in front of a large wooden structure. Embers smoldered and the pungent fumes of burning wood and flesh were thick in the air. A breeze carried the smell of death towards Ares. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with what he considered the pleasures of success. He walked forward, stepping over body parts as he surveyed the area. Everything was just as it should be.

A quick explosion followed by pink smoke billowing around Ares made him turn around to see his half sister, a smug look on her face.

“What brings you here? This is a battlefield, not the kind of place prissy women like you belong.”

Aphrodite stepped forward, waving her hands and causing a gust of wind to blow soot and ash away from her large cream colored dress. Wind blew her strawberry blond curls over her shoulders, exposing her bodice. She put both hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. Aphrodite took another step forward.

Ares flinched when she raised her hand. He had a bad feeling that burned deep inside his gut.

She wiped off her sleeves and looked dead at him. “I can’t see how you stand this, dear brother. It’s enough to make a woman sick.”

Ares scoffed. “Your opinion is the least of my concerns. What do you want? Or do I need to kick your ass?”

Aphrodite made an undignified noise before glaring at Ares. “I’m not here to discuss our sibling rivalry though. There is talk on Olympus against you.”

He snorted. “Fuck’em. I just conquered one of the largest areas of Greece. I am practically unstoppable. Their actions do not concern me.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that. I’m just warning you before it’s too late. That’s all.” Aphrodite waved her hands, smirked and disappeared, leaving another poof of smoke where she’d previously stood.

Ares smiled. He didn’t give a damn about the other gods. If he had his way, they’d all be taken out just like this village was, fast and hard.

Zeus was a rotting old corpse of a god who needed to follow in his father’s footsteps and Hera was just a whore.

Looking up at the sky, he felt power deep in his bones that would shake mortals to their very fragile cores. “You see this? All of you look down upon Earth. Know that this land is mine.” He raised his hands to the skies and laughed. Rain began to fall from large dark puffy clouds, washing the blood and dirt away to reveal the sadness of loss.

Ares looked around him, feeling a buzzing in his ear.

The world went black around him as he fell to the ground.

***

“Ares, get up you pathetic excuse for a god.”

The voice was harsh, angry and commanding. Ares didn’t have to take this, he thought as he opened his eyes to find himself caged like an animal. Zeus’ thunderous voice boomed again, “You’ve committed a harsh grievance against me. Your power continues to swell your head and you continue to act without remorse. You continue to abuse your power and we fear it may set the course of the world off.”

The god of war forced himself to his feet only to find he was trapped in a large box. Zeus stood before him, his long gray hair and beard covering large, broad shoulders. Dressed only in a black pair of pants and a robe, the god sneered at Ares.

For an ancient god, Zeus still had a muscular build, much like his father, Cronos. Angry flames danced in piercing black eyes. Golden doors behind Zeus opened and several other gods walked in, all wearing solemn, angry expressions. Apollo led the pack followed by Hephestus and Hermes and Pan.

“What is this? I have done nothing wrong here, let me go,” Ares protested. He shook the slats but they would not budge. He stretched out his hand, palm facing outward and shot an energy blast at the slats, but the blast ricocheted around the cage until it struck Ares in the back.

He fell forward with a loud thump, mashing his face against the slats.

Zeus stepped closer. “Do you recognize this woman?”

He held out his hand and an image appeared in front of Ares. A woman, tall and slender with auburn hair and green eyes was running through a field of marigolds in a white dress. She was laughing, throwing her head back carelessly as she ran into the arms of another man. Ares recognized it as Zeus.

“Nope. I’ve never seen her.” Ares licked his lips at the sight of such a buxom creature.

Zeus threw a punch, his fist landing against the slats inches away from Ares’ face. “Liar! That woman belonged to me and you knew it.”

“Come to think of it …” Ares let his voice trail off.

“You murdered her after she had an affair with you.”

“You were going to do the same thing. What’s the difference?” His hands rose to his sides.

“The difference was,” a female voice announced, “you stepped over a line deliberately.”

Ares swallowed hard. He hated that voice, hated that goddess with all his energy. Hera appeared before him. Her long black hair made her look thinner than she should have. Her cold stare turned to a sneer.

Her robe covered her waifish figure. She narrowed her eyes at Ares, walked towards him. Anger and rage radiated from her presence. Ares knew he was in trouble now. Surely there had to be a way out.

Her veneer conveyed her smugness. “And now it’s time for you to pay the price.”

“Let me go you evil –”

Hera held up two fingers to his lips and silenced him. “You will be let go. Stripped of your powers,” she snapped her fingers.

Ares body shook, his legs going rubbery beneath him. He slumped down as he tried to regain his footing, but a ball of light appeared before him. It grew bigger as he grew weaker, all of his energy draining from him.

“What is this? I can’t believe any of this,” he yelled, but no one cared.

“You’re going to throw the entire world off kilter if you do not get a grip, dear boy. We can’t have you destroying everything. That you would be so inconsiderate of the ones who put you where you are is inconceivable. You are hereby banished from Olympus until otherwise told.”

“You can’t do that to me. I am the god of –” His growl faded into nothingness as his world went black again.

***

Ares woke up with a pounding headache. Why was he slumped over a desk? He raised his head, opening his eyes to find himself in a messy office, half empty bottle of brandy in front of several other empty bottles of various other alcohols. A desk lamp and several pens were spread out all over the desk beside a weird object with buttons. Each button held a number, a few letters. He recognized it as a telephone. Ares stood slowly, turning around to see the blinds tightly shut over windows.

He peered out through one, it was dark outside. Cars drove down paved streets and a few people still milled about though they were dressed very differently.

The phone rang, making the pounding in Ares’ head worse.

Almost instinctively, he picked up the device, “Hello?”

“John Mars, great you’re in. I need you down at 625 Polk Street. We have a crime scene on our hands and our men are stumped.”

“What the hell did I drink?” His voice trailed off.

“Mars, can you come down now?” the voice barked.

“Wha – yeah.” Ares shook his head. Something was wrong. He wasn’t ever mistaken for that smug bastard of the Roman pantheon.

“Great. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”

The phone went dead.

“What the hell is going on here?” he yelled.

A small boom followed by a pink cloud that dissipated into a woman’s body forced Ares’ attention towards the window.

“Hello, big brother.”

Ares stared at Aphrodite, standing in her large flowing gown. Her long blonde curls were pulled back. He sighed. “Oh shit.” He glared.

“You. What do you want?”

She waved a hand off to one side dismissively and tousled her hair.

“I’ve come to fill you in on the missing details.” She sounded irritated.

Ares laughed. “What possibly could you know? I didn’t see you when Zeus banished me from Olympus.”

“Of course I wasn’t present. They’d have my hide for even warning you. I’m not stupid, but I tried to warn you, brother. You are just a stubborn fool.” She waved a delicate painted fingernail in his direction.

“Stuff it, woman. How do I get back to Greece?”

Aphrodite jeered. “You don’t even know where you are now, you silly nit. And you won’t be going back to Greece, either.”

Ares’ eyes burned with rage. Balling his fists, he shook them in the air, slamming them down on the table. “What do you mean I’m not getting back to Greece?”

“Calm down,” she replied, raising her hands up defensively against her ample chest.

“Calm down?” His eyebrows rose. “Calm down? Ha!” Crossing his arms and closing his eyes, he wished himself back to Greece.

Nothing happened.

Ares opened his eyes and saw the same dingy office, the liquor bottles and his irritating half sister standing before him with a smug look on her face. “What is the meaning of this? Have the gods left me without my powers?”

She nodded. “Most of them.”

Fuck. “How can they do this?” Ares held out his hand, aiming at the window and found no spark of energy to command. He strode over to the desk, swung his arm around, sending all of the empty bottles crashing to the floor. He went to lift the desk up only to find that it actually hurt.

Obviously he was much weaker than before.

Aphrodite stood beside him and set a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, I said.”

Ares swore beneath his breath and walked around to the chair behind the desk, stepping over the pile of broken glass. “Fine. Help me get out of here.”

She shook her head, sending her mass of curls flying this way and that. Her lips pursed together in a frown. “I cannot do that.”

Ares leaned forward, laying his head in his hands. “Great. I’m stuck in a place I cannot escape from and the gods be damned.”

“I can help you get your powers back and make things a bit better, though.”

Ares searched her face for compassion, finding the emotions she always held for her dear half brother. At least she meant well. “It’s not enough.”

“I am sorry. Hera banished you to another time where you would no longer bother her. You’ve been sent to another country that in our time wasn’t even populated by humans yet. In fact, in this time, we don't exist.”

“Fine,” he slumped back in the chair. “Tell me what I need to know.”

“Zeus was so upset with you that he took your powers from you and sealed them in an object which he sent to a different period than our own. If you want your powers back, you must find the object. I hear it glitters, but that’s all I know. The problem is, in this town, lots of things glitter.”

“Shit.” He exhaled a quick breath. “So I’m unable to do anything?”

“You’ve been totally stripped of your powers.” Hearing it again was still painful.

“Essentially leaving me …”

 “As nothing. You’re not a god anymore. You’re human.”

“Great. So I’m stuck here without the ability to teleport out of this place. I’m seeing strange contraptions moving about on wheels when I look out the window. I’m to assume I’m in a more recent time with technological advancements far beyond what Greece had. What year is it anyway?”

Aphrodite walked over to his desk, picked up the newspaper from the previous day and read the date aloud. “January 5, 1954.”

“What?” His eyes widened, making his head hurt even more.

“You’ve been sent to San Francisco, in a place called California. It’s a very large city, full of many people. The laws are different here than in our own time, brother. You must be careful. We are but legend here. You know how Hera's punishments always work out.”

Ares let out a long, slow breath. The pain in his head eased for a moment before it returned with a vengeance. “Yeah. Do whatever it is to make amends and learn some lame ass lesson in order to get back in her favor.”

Aphrodite nodded. “That’s right.”

“So,” he looked at his sister, who seemed to have a smug smile on her face, “What is it I am to do in this San Francisco, California?”

“Apparently, you’re a famous detective.” She flipped the paper over and pointed to the ad that read ‘John Mars, famous private detective’.”

His mouth dropped open. “What?”

“I love the coat, by the way.” She pointed over at the coat rack and snapped her fingers. The coat came floating into her hands. It was brown and made of a soft cloth. Stains marred the lower portion of the coat but otherwise it looked like it’d keep a mortal warm.

Ares scoffed. “That ugly thing? Can’t I get one in leather, at least?”

“It’ll cost you.”

“Fuck.” He set his hands to his temples and rubbed them, massaging some of the pain away. Looking up at Aphrodite, he waited for the throbbing in his head to return. It hadn’t. “What now? I haven’t any way of forcing people to do anything. I have no armies to lead and pillage with.”

“You’ll have to pay for it with cash.” She spoke matter of fact.

“Great. I’m a commoner now.” His voice carried the extra syllables of the word just a little longer than normal.

“Oh it won’t be so bad. You still have your way with women. Or at least I thought you did,” she giggled. Aphrodite walked over to the desk, picking up the plaque. “Mr. John Mars. Interesting new name too. Nice.”

Ares glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you should definitely be prepared for the next person who comes in through your door. Take her case.” She snapped her fingers, the coat disappeared and reappeared on the coat wrack.

Ares caught the fluttering of her eyelashes.

“Thanks, but no thanks. New people in my life are bad news, baby.”

Ares didn’t recognize the words coming out of his own mouth!

“Too bad, John.” She giggled.

“I’ll think about it.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned around, setting his hand on the desk. Looking down at the desk, the mess of papers and pencils among the empty glassware, he realized this John Mars guy was a slob. And a drunk.

“There are things in your desk that will help you survive in these times. Oh, and lay off the booze. That will actually hurt you now too.”

“What?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.

She waved a hand. “Gotta go big brother! Besides, you have work to do.” She snapped her fingers and that annoying pink cloud appeared, covering the space where she stood.

“Damnit!” He muttered and the shooting pain between his eyes returned.

He was alone now. His head still hurt. How could the other gods do this to him? After all the fame and money he’d brought to Olympus …

The hell with them. They were all worthless now. Dead even, apparently.

“How the hell am I supposed to get there?” Ares threw his hands up in frustration. Slamming a fist into the wooden desk, a drawer popped open. Curiously, Ares pulled the drawer open, curiously looking inside.

A leather wallet sat with a large handgun and bullets.

“This is the best they’ve got here?” He picked up the gun, feeling the heavy weight of its power in his hands. Six chambers, a long silver barrel, an ivory handle that fit perfectly in his hands, this gun was made for him. He set the piece down on the desk and picked up the odd leather holster. Standing, Ares slipped on the leather holster and found that it also fit perfectly. Though, it clashed with his torn black leather vest.

Picking up the gun, Ares examined it again, enjoying how the light reflected off the metal. He reached into the drawer, grabbed a bullet and inserted it into the revolver’s chamber. Taking careful aim, he squeezed the trigger, firing a round into the glass that blasted a large hole in the door, sending splinters and shards of glass everywhere.

“I can work with this.” A wry grin crossed his lips.

The phone rang again, Ares spun around pointing the gun at it.

“Don’t,” he grunted, “do that,” and the phone rang again.

Reaching over the stack of papers, Ares picked up the phone.

“Yeah?”

“John, are you coming down here? Is everything okay? I heard gunshots in your office.”

“Skip it, I’m fine. I’ll be downstairs in a moment. You’re just outside, right?”

“Yeah.” The voice sounded weary.

Ares sighed. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Hurry.” The line went dead.

Ares loaded the gun with bullets and rushed towards the door.

Stepping on glass and wood, he reached for the trench coat and snagged it off the rack before slamming what was left of his door. Rushing down the hall, his boots echoed loudly against the wood floors.

The coat covered most of his body, hiding his leather vest, necklace and gun. It was a good thing too, because just across the street were several police cars flashing bright lights. Men in uniform stood around a large area that was taped off.

A large man dressed in brown coat that matched Ares stepped in direct view of the site.
“John,” the burly man extended a hand to Ares.

His firm handshake threw Ares off; the man certainly had a strong grip.

“So good of you to come. We’re stumped.” Panic stricken, the man’s thick moustache twitched when he spoke.

“Umm, tell me what’s wrong, Mr.” Ares eyes scanned the man’s jacket, looking for identification, “Howard.”

“John, you know better than to call me by that name.”

“Right. Um …”

“Trace. John, are you okay? You smell like –” Howard clapped his hand on Ares’ shoulder.

Ares put his hand in front of his mouth and smelled what he guessed was a large amount of booze on his breath. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day,” Ares interrupted, putting his hand to his brow. Smoothing back his curls, he stood next to Trace. Yeah, that was the man’s name. Why did he know that?

“That’s the scene over there behind the men.” Pulling him by the arm, Trace led Ares to the scene where he pointed to the body on the floor. Blood splatter covered the pavement and the man’s body looked disfigured. A few bones were sticking out where they shouldn't have been; more blood soaked the shirt the victim wore.

The man only wore one shoe. “Well, there it is. Witness over there says he fell out of the window from four stories up. A closer inspection showed dirt under his fingernails, but it could be blood from a struggle.”

Leaning towards the body, Ares reached out, trying to feel the man’s past. “Damnit,” he muttered when he realized that nothing happened.

His powers were gone still. It wasn’t temporary.

“Curse them.” He shook a fist at nobody in particular.

Trace cocked an eyebrow. “Something the matter, John?”

He looked at Trace. “No. Nothing. Skip it.”

Trace knelt down by Ares. “Any ideas?”

Damn, Trace was pushy.

Reaching to touch the man's neck, Ares felt wet skin. “There’s a large clean cut here,” he turned to Trace. “It’s thin, the man was choked and probably killed before he was thrown out the window. Probably fishing line or something like that was used to strangle him. Any idea who this man is?” As if it mattered to Ares right now.

He might as well play the part.

“Not a clue. Our men found nothing on him to identify him. No wallet, no driver’s license.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Ares shook his head.

Trace sighed heavily. “We waited for you to get here before turning the body over. Do you want to be the one to do it?”

Sure. Send me back to a time I know nothing about, stick me with a job I’m not qualified to do and make me turn a dead man on his back. Zeus, you asshole. Ares muttered before giving Trace the nod. “Fuck … go ahead.”

“You never were much for dead bodies, Mars. Live ones …”

“What?” Ares cocked a brow.

“I saw you last week walking out of that bar with the blonde dame, Mars.” Ares felt Trace’s elbow digging into his rib. “Of course that could be the reason why you didn’t hear anything from across the street either.”

“Yeah, you know me. Party central.” He feigned a smile.

“Well,” he motioned towards the body with his hands. “You ready?”

“Go ahead,” he let out a breath.

“All right boys, you heard Mr. Mars. Flip the body over.” Trace waved a few men over from the cars. Some of them looked green, like their stomachs were about to upchuck the contents of their dinners.

They’d have died first probably in any war Ares launched.

Or last, so they could wretch at the horrid sights he left behind.

Two paramedics dressed in white scuttled over, moving the body onto a gurney. Everyone but Ares gasped at the sight of the man's face being revealed.