Marked (Eternal Guardians #1)

The hours blurred together. Casey didn’t know how long she and Marissa had been holed up in the cave, but she was sure it was dark outside by now. They must have been in this cave at least six hours, and still not a word from Theron.

  She’d already envisioned all the horrible things that could have happened to him, knew he could be out there suffering as she sat here hiding, but she couldn’t force herself to get up and look. He’d told her to stay put. And every time she’d thought about ignoring that order, Marissa’s strange warning from yesterday lit off in her brain.

  What they’ll do to you will be worse.

  Why her? When that daemon had dropped in her path as they’d been running from the barn, he’d acted as if he knew her. Come to think of it, the ones in her store and even the ones the night she’d met Theron had all acted as if they knew who she was. How was that possible? And what did it mean?

  A scraping noise from out in the tunnel brought her head up. She reached for the flashlight on the ground by her thigh. Though she’d flipped it off hours ago to conserve battery life, she wanted to be able to see what was coming at her. Hands shaking all over again, she grappled for the knife as she inched her way around the corner and into the main room.

  Whatever was coming through the tunnel was big. She could hear it grunting and scraping along the tight tube. She didn’t dare flick on the flashlight now, so she prayed she was pointing the knife in the right direction.

  The shuffling stopped. Her heart pounded so loud she was sure it was giving her away. Whoever, or whatever, had come through the space lifted to its feet and drew in a ragged breath.

  “Don’t cut me, Acacia.”

  “Theron!” Casey dropped the knife and flashlight and lunged for his voice.

  His strong arms caught her and pulled her close. She choked back a sob, never so happy to see someone as she was at this moment.

  A soft chuckle came from his chest, vibrating against her until she felt it in her toes. “Miss me, did you, meli?” he whispered into her hair.

  Oh, God. The sound of his voice. Like music. Her hands closed into fists against his damp shirt. “It’s been hours. Where have you—?”

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “Sleeping. Finally. Theron. God. How did you know where to find us?”

  One strong hand ran down the length of her hair. “I told you. I’ll always be able to find you.”

  She didn’t have a clue what he meant by that and didn’t want to get into it now. She was just so thankful he was here. She pressed her forehead against his massive chest. “Theron. I was so…” She didn’t want to say “worried,” because that made her sound like a weakling. But she was. Out of her mind with worry over him. She gave her head a small shake. “What happened?”

  “I told you. This is what I do.”

  What he did? And he expected her not to freak out over it when monsters from one of Stephen King’s novels were coming after him? Yeah, right.

  “It took so long. I thought—”

  “They were sent back to Hades shortly after you and the girl left. There was nothing for you to worry about.”

  Shortly after. Casey pushed back from his chest and looked up, wishing she could see his face, but lucky for him, it was too dark. “Shortly after? What the hell have you been doing since then? Getting a pedicure?”

  “Waiting,” he said. “To make sure there weren’t any stragglers.”

  Her adrenaline chose that moment to come crashing down. Screw worried. Now she was mad. “While I sat in here for the last six hours imagining you drawn and quartered and going out of my mind with fear?” Jackass! “Thanks a lot!” She hauled off and kicked him in the shin as hard as she could, then turned on her heel and headed for what she hoped was the archway into the next room. It’d be just her luck to run headfirst into a rock wall instead.

  He caught her before she made it three steps, those beefy arms of his wrapping tight around her waist and picking her up off the floor until she was running on air.

  “Put me down!” she hissed so as not to wake Marissa. “I’ve already been manhandled enough for one day.”

  “Hold on, meli.” He shifted her so she couldn’t kick him in the balls, repositioned his arms until he had both of hers pinned. She struggled, but even she knew it was useless. He was a thousand times stronger than her when she was healthy. Now, with the combination of fear, exhaustion and sickness coursing through her body, she was like a toothpick blowing in the breeze. “I’d have come for you sooner if I’d thought it was safe.”

  “Word to the wise. It’s not safe for you here now, so just go back out the way you came in.”

  He gentled his hold but still held her firmly. “Meli.”

  Dammit, why did that one stupid word make her go all soft and gooey inside? Especially when he said it so tenderly?

  The fight rushed out of her in a blur. She bit her lip hard so she wouldn’t cry like a blubbering baby. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

  “Shhh.” He eased his hold and turned her gently toward him. “And in the dark, too.” He brushed her hair back from her face in a move that was so damn sweet, she was glad she couldn’t see his eyes. He’d saved her life twice now, and though she didn’t understand him in the least, she had a sinking suspicion he was right: some kind of fate or destiny she couldn’t see and wasn’t sure she believed in was pushing them together.

  The only question was, why?

  “It’s over now, meli.”

  “For you,” she whispered. Thank God there was anonymity in the dark. “But those things… Tell me the truth, Theron. They’re looking for me, aren’t they?”

  When he wrapped his arms tight around her again and pulled her close without answering, she knew she was right. For some reason, those daemons were hunting her. And she suspected it had something to do with a father she’d never known and a world that was as foreign to her as China.

  “What happened to the flashlight I gave you?” he asked.

  Casey knew he was changing the subject, but was too exhausted to call him on it. She eased out of his arms when he loosened his hold—not because she wanted to but because it was either that or fall on her ass. “I dropped it somewhere.”

  His big boots shuffled along the rock floor. Seconds later, a single beam of light pierced the darkness. Theron shone it around, checking out the cave.

  Casey pointed toward the smaller room and lowered her voice. “Marissa’s sleeping in there. I gave her my coat.”

  Theron pointed the light in that direction. “That’s good. It’s dark out now. We’ll let her sleep till morning, then head back to the colony.” He turned and picked up something from the ground behind him. Minnie.

  And the waterworks chose that moment to flood. Killing three monsters hell-bent on mutilating her wasn’t heroic enough for him. Oh, no, Theron, leader of the Argonauts and descendent of Heracles, the greatest hero ever, had to rescue that stupid doll and bring it back for a little girl who was miserable without it.

  Casey was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall of the cave, wiping her eyes like an idiot when he came back from returning Marissa’s toy. She saw the alarm on his face and scowled, wishing she’d left that damn flashlight on earlier so the batteries would now be dead. She did not need to see concern from him. She already had a feeling she was dangerously close to falling for this guy without it.

  A hero. Fabulous. Of all the stupid things she’d ever done, this would be the topper. Forget the fact they came from two completely different worlds. Forget the fact she was sick and didn’t seem to be getting any better. Even if they were on even ground, she’d still never be enough for him. She’d seen the disgust on his face whenever he remembered she was human. And now that she’d glimpsed what had happened to his father, she understood why.

  “Don’t cry, meli.” He sank down next to her and pulled her onto his lap. She thought about refusing, then figured, What’s the point? I’m too weak to fight him and odds are good I’ll end up
here anyway. “I can’t handle seeing you so upset.”

  “I’m not crying over you, you stupid jerk.” She swiped at her eyes again and punched him in the shoulder with what little strength she had left. “I’m just…tired.”

  He clicked the light off and set the flashlight on the ground by his hip. In the silence she heard the strong beat of his heart. “You did good out there,” he said. “Saved me again. Better not let my kinsmen see or they’ll be firing my ass and inducting you into the Argonauts.”

  She let out a sigh, relaxed against him. God, his body felt good. Warm. Right. Even soaked with sweat and other things she didn’t want to imagine. “I hate those things.”

  His hand ran over her hair, pressed gently against her head until she laid it on his shoulder. “We all do.”

  In the silence she asked a question that had been pinging around in her brain since the run-in at her store. “Why don’t you use guns?”

  “In battle?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’ve tried all kinds. So far the daemons have been able to throw off bullets with little effort. A blade to slice open their flesh works better, creates more damage. Titus, one of my Argonauts, is constantly experimenting with new weaponry in our fight, though.”

  Interesting. “Who’s Atalanta?”

  His hand stilled in her hair. “How do you know of her?”

  “The daemon who cornered us mentioned her. He said, ‘Atalanta is waiting for you.’”

  His silence unnerved her, and just as she was about to lift her head and ask what he was hiding, he said, “She’s the one who traded her soul to Hades for immortality and dominion over the daemons. She felt she was shunned from the Argonauts because she was female.”

  “She was one of the original fifty-five on the Argo?”

  “By some accounts, yes.”

  “And was she? Shunned?”

  “Probably. Three thousand years ago, females were looked at differently. And a female Argonaut is still not as strong as a male, which is why the guardians chosen from each line are generally males.”

  “A woman can be president and can serve in the military, but she still can’t fight. I guess sexism crosses all cultural barriers, huh?”

  He chuckled, and the vibrations zinged along her nerve endings. “Acacia, I think you’re getting the wrong idea. Gynaíkes are the mothers, the wives, the daughters who keep our race flourishing. No ándras in his right mind would let his mate serve in the ranks of the Argonauts. And no Argonaut would ever consider letting his soul mate near battle.”

  “Did Atalanta have a soul mate?”

  He shifted his big body beneath her, nestling her tighter against his groin. Though she couldn’t be certain, she thought she felt the stirrings of his arousal pushing against her hip. But that couldn’t be, could it? He had to be spent and exhausted from fighting, and they weren’t even talking about anything even remotely suggestive.

  “Some say she did. Her father wanted her to marry and she refused, so he set up a footrace to spite her. Any suitor who could beat her in speed would win her hand. Hippomenes was the only one to best her, and they eventually married. But many believe he wasn’t her soul mate.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because an Argonaut only gets one. A punishment, like I told you, cooked up by Hera and Lachesis, one of the Fates. It’s no great secret Heracles had a ferocious sexual appetite. He seduced both men and women, god and mortal, never caring about the consequences. When Zeus granted Argolea to Heracles’s and the other Argonauts’ offspring, Hera made sure she had a hand in their destinies.”

  “By giving them a soul mate? That sounds like a blessing.”

  “By giving them one soul mate, meli. And by making sure each one is the exact opposite of what that Argonaut wants and needs. To make matters worse, Hera made sure the only way an Argonaut could even acknowledge his soul mate was to tap into his humanity, something we’re trained not to do.”

  “Why? I don’t understand.”

  He let out a long sigh. “Because doing so stirs emotions that tend to get in the way of our duties. Our god side is…let’s just say, not overly concerned with right and wrong, having a conscience, being unselfish. The twelve gods of Olympus aren’t entities we worship. They’re nothing more than fallen angels who turned away from the Creator for their own selfish gain. True emotions—love, hate, sacrifice—those are things the gods don’t understand, because they don’t feel them. Not in their truest form, at least. Suppress those, and you suppress that side of our heritage that leaves us vulnerable and weak. Very few Argonauts are able to open themselves up to their humanity and continue to serve as guardians. Therefore, most never find their soul mate.”

  Casey’s eyebrows drew together as she thought about what he’d told her. She was human, and very definitely something he despised. Would fate have saddled him with a human soul mate just to spite him?

  The question sent her brain buzzing. She wasn’t actually buying into this, was she? She gave her head a small shake and refocused on their conversation. “But Atalanta had one? And it wasn’t Hippomenes?”

  “No. Most believe her soul mate was Meleager, a Greek prince and fierce warrior who killed numerous times to win her attention. For reasons no one quite understands, she denied his love until it was too late and he was killed. After that she walked around in a fog for years, a great warrior herself, but without heart. Eventually her father tricked her into marrying Hippomenes, but she didn’t love him, and he was later killed as well. Some say her despair over losing both men compounded her anger at being passed over for the Argonauts. And that spurred her on to make her pact with Hades.”

  “What if an Argonaut never finds his soul mate?”

  “He exists as he always has. A living, breathing killing machine born of honor and duty.”

  His definition of himself was so mater-of-fact, it sent a chill down her spine. Yet it explained so much about who he was and how he operated. She thought about the scene with his father. “What about children?”

  He shrugged. “It is possible, even encouraged, for an Argonaut to have young outside marriage. After all, ‘go forth and multiply’ was, and still is, the slogan of the gods, and screw anything that gets in their way. That mentality has been passed down to us tenfold. But that’s all it is. Sex for fun and procreation…if the time is right for the gynaíka. An unbound Argonaut will never be emotionally involved with his younglings. He has no real ties to them.”

  The type of man he described seemed so different from the one she was getting to know. She’d glimpsed tender moments from him, even back at her house before she’d known what he was. Surely an Argonaut who’d called her “beloved” right from the beginning couldn’t be as callous as all this.

  And then a thought occurred. One that tightened her stomach and sent a wave of unease rolling through her. “Do you have children?”

  “No.”

  “But you said—”

  “My father was one of the lucky ones, meli. An Argonaut who found his other half. I grew up in a loving household, unlike my kinsmen. When, if, I have younglings, it will be with the gynaíka who is my soul mate, no one else.”

  She breathed out a sigh of relief, though why his answer pleased her, she couldn’t say. For reasons she didn’t want to examine, she couldn’t bear the thought of him with someone else. At least not right now, when she was seated precariously on his lap and his hands were running up and down her back in that languid way that made her want to take a bite out of him.

  And that’s when she remembered what he’d said on the hike up here.

  Thankful he couldn’t see her blush, she said, “So, um, about that. You said there was one way you could tell if someone was your soul mate. I suspect that means you’ve had plenty of practice in the whole soul-mate-searching thing.”

  He stirred again beneath her, and oh, yeah. This time there was no mistaking his arousal pressing against her hip. Her skin tingled at the contact, and she remembered
the erotic way he’d touched her that night at her house. If she turned ever so slightly and slung her leg over his hip, she could be sitting on top of all that hard steel, exactly where she suddenly needed it.

  “I’ve never had any reason to wonder,” he said in a low voice. “Until now.”

  Casey’s heart kicked up, and in the silence she knew he had to hear it too. “Why not?” she asked, even though she knew this was a dangerous road to travel.

  “Because I hadn’t met you. And I didn’t dare think to look in the human world for my other half.”

  Oh, boy. Had he just said what she thought he’d said? Okay, ignoring the part about her maybe being his—gulp—soul mate, was it possible he’d never been with a human?

  Her blood went hot at the thought. Casey wasn’t stupid. The man was more than two hundred years old and radiated raw sexual heat that would undoubtedly make even the strongest woman throw herself at his feet and rip off all her clothes at just the crook of his finger. And judging from Casey’s spotty memory, she’d done just that. Which meant he was well experienced in the sex-for-fun thing he’d mentioned earlier. But the idea he’d had all that practice with only women of his kind and not humans? Oh, yeah. That electrified her. Jacked her up. Left her burning hot and wild.

  Because it meant this was as new to him as it was to her.

  A slow ache pulsed deep in her core, slid lower until she had to press her thighs together to keep from moaning.

  What would he be like as a lover? Hard and hot and demanding, she was sure. Would she be strong enough to take it? Would she even care after he had his way with her?

  Sultry images lit off in her brain. His mouth on hers, his skin pressed up against hers. His body bending hers over the couch, as he’d done once before, to drive deep inside her.

  The hand he’d been using to stroke her back slid down her arm to rest on her thigh. A shiver rushed over her skin, and all she could think about was how good it would feel to have his hands on her bare flesh again.

  “I can hear your heart,” he whispered in the silence between them.

  Oh, yeah, ya think? Casey bit her lip as his fingers traced a lazy pattern across her thigh.

  “Do you feel all right?”

  No, she didn’t feel all right at all. She was exhausted and weak. Compounding her illness was the fact she hadn’t eaten in nearly two days. She felt as if she could sleep for a month and still never catch up, but at the moment none of that mattered. Because all her energy was focused on what he was doing to her body with just the barest touch from his talented fingers.

  “Acacia?”

  His warm breath fanned over her face, telling her he was closer than she realized. One slight move and she could claim that rugged mouth as her own. His fingers inched higher on her thigh until they brushed the juncture of her hip. She sucked in a breath and waited.

  “Are you afraid of me?” he asked.

  One millimeter. All she had to do was lean forward a fraction of an inch and she could kiss him.

  “What’s it saying?” she whispered.

  “What’s what saying?”

  “My heart.”

  He let out a long breath that washed over her cheek as his fingers danced up her rib cage. And then his hand hovered over the left side of her chest, right over her heart. “Hopefully the same thing mine is saying.”

  She swallowed. Hard. And knew there was no turning back. “Do you? Have a heart, that is, Theron?”

  “I didn’t think so,” he said in that husky voice. “But I’m not so sure anymore.” He hesitated, barely brushing her mouth, and moved his hand to graze her arm. “Kiss me, meli. Kiss me like you did—”

  She didn’t let him finish. She pressed her mouth to his until she was lightheaded. In reflex, her hands slid up his chest, around his neck to brush his silky hair back from his face. His muscles tensed and his arms twined around her as he pulled her tight against him.

  A groan tore out of him. He changed the angle of the kiss, ran his tongue along the seam of her lips and urged her to let him in. She wondered, momentarily, if she was making a monumental mistake. Then moaned as he shifted her into better contact with his hips and finally acquiesced, opening to him on instinct and taking him deep. In a rush she pushed aside the thousand reasons this was wrong and focused on how good it felt now. How good he felt here.

  Not just in her skin and in her body. But in her soul. That connection to him she’d felt from the very beginning erupted again as she tipped her head and ran her tongue along his. The growl of satisfaction resonating from his chest only fueled her need, and she slid her fingers around to cup his face while she kissed him deeper and reveled in the way his body hardened beneath her and his lust grew exponentially with hers.

  “Meli,” he whispered against her mouth. “I dreamed of touching you like this again.”

  He did? Oh, God. She was quickly losing control and didn’t even care. His mouth nipped its way to her ear, where his hot and wanton breath against her neck made her whole body quiver and her sex clench. Hands still on the sides of his face, she closed her eyes and tipped her head, giving him as much access to her throat as he wanted, loving every lick and suck and kiss he pressed against her.

  Time was forgotten. The circumstances that had brought them here became trivial. All she could focus on was shedding the clothing separating their bodies and sliding across his naked flesh until he filled her with his heat.

  His fingers ran down to the edge of her shirt while he kissed her neck, up and under until he skimmed the bare skin of her abdomen and her stomach tensed. She turned her head, bringing his mouth back to hers, and groaned long and deep when his fingers brushed her silk-covered nipples.

  She shifted in his lap, slipping her leg over his until she was straddling him. One of his hands continued to tease her breasts while the other slid to her hips and pulled her down so she was sitting on his erection and he was rubbing right where she wanted him most.

  “Meli.” His voice turned frantic, his mouth possessive against hers. Before she felt his hands move, he had her jeans unsnapped and his fingers were sliding inside and down through her moist curls. “I need to feel you come.”

  She wrapped her arms tight around his neck, moaned at his erotic words. Closing her eyes, she lifted just enough to grant him access. His finger slid lower while his mouth returned to her neck, licking and sucking, and then everything went white-hot. She shuddered violently at the first touch. Just as his fingers slid into her folds and electricity rippled through her center to every cell in her body.

  He chuckled against the column of her neck, slowed his strokes but continued to tease and torment with the sweetest touch. “Gods, how you please me.”

  Her chest rose and fell as she drew in ragged breaths. She should have been embarrassed. She’d never climaxed like that, so fast and with such little stimulation. But this man—Argonaut—whatever, had the strangest control over her.

  “Don’t sound so proud of yourself.”

  He laughed again, and the husky sound warmed her from the inside out. As did the curve of his lips as he kissed her throat and ear and moved around to take her mouth again.

  His hand stayed in her pants, but he eased it around to her backside, pulling her close until his arousal was pushing against her jeans. He deepened the kiss, and in the silence between them, she heard his strong and steady heart pounding in time with hers.

  Yes, he had one. If he’d been interest only in getting what he wanted, he wouldn’t have bothered to pleasure her so thoroughly. Even now, after she’d had her release, when she was limp and sated, he could easily flip her to her back and drive into her without even a protest from her lips, and he knew it. But he didn’t. Instead he continued to kiss her slow and gentle, like he wanted to draw out the moment. Like she mattered to him.

  She reached for the button on his pants, knowing then she was going to take him in, as deep as he wanted. Not because she needed to know if he was her soul mate, but simply because
she wanted him. Because she had always wanted him.

  “Yes, meli,” he purred. “Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me. However you want.”

  Her pulse quickened. Her throat grew thick with desire. She was just about to dive beneath his waistband and take matters into her own hands when she heard a small voice behind her ask, “Casey? Where are you?”

  Casey froze. Then common sense slammed into her, and like a guilty teenager, she scrambled off Theron’s lap and fixed her clothes. Her face heated at what she’d been about to do and how easily she’d forgotten they weren’t alone. Thank heavens for the darkness.

  Flushed, Casey pushed to her feet and wobbled, all the blood rushing from her head with the sudden movement. Theron grabbed her at the arms from behind and steadied her. The man moved like a silent shadow. She hadn’t even heard him rise.

  “Casey?” Marissa asked again, this time in a frightened voice.

  “I’m here, honey.” Reaching out a hand, Casey crossed the room toward Marissa’s voice and finally found the child. She drew the girl into her body in a hug. “It’s all right. Everything’s fine.”

  Marissa pushed Minnie against Casey’s torso. “Look! Minnie found us.”

  Casey dropped to a crouch in front of the girl. “I know. Theron brought her.”

  “Theron’s here?”

  From across the room, the flashlight flicked on. The bright light burned Casey’s retinas for a minute, but when her vision adjusted, she looked over to see Theron standing near the far wall, looking every bit the dark and sexy hero she’d very nearly boned the hell out of only moments before.

  She blushed again and quickly looked back at Marissa. The girl had a sappy smile on her face as she glanced between the two of them. The child couldn’t possibly know what they’d been up to only moments before, could she?

  “I told you he’d come back for you,” Marissa said, nudging Casey with her shoulder. “The old lady with the string told me.”

  Casey’s brows drew together. “The one you saw before?”

  Marissa nodded.

  Was the child talking about Lachesis? The Fate who drew out the life thread? Assuming Casey bought into all this freaky Greek myth stuff, if Marissa could really see into the future, maybe she knew the answer to Theron’s burning question. Maybe she could tell them right now if they were really destined to be together…

  Casey took Marissa’s hand in hers. “Marissa. Honey. What else did the lady with the string tell you?”

  Marissa turned clouded gray eyes on Casey. “About you?”

  Casey shook her head. “No. About us. Me and Theron.”

  Marissa’s stare bore into Casey, and just when Casey was about to wave her hand in front of the child’s face to break the trance she seemed to have slipped into, Marissa’s pupils expanded until there was nearly no iris left and the only thing was a gaping black hole in a sea of white. “She said you’re going to see Tartarus. And Theron is the reason you’re going.”

  Chapter Twenty