He hoped it was, at least, because Zeus had probably already been alerted to an outside force in his realm. It wouldn’t take long for the king of the gods to zero in on that energy and locate Prometheus.
“You’d better be there,” Prometheus whispered beneath the starry sky.
He moved away from his shelter and into the tunnel. Cool air washed over his cheeks, sending a shiver down his spine. It was dark, but his Titan eyesight picked out every bump and ridge on the rock walls. He followed the tunnel around twists and curves until it opened to a vast room with a raised platform and a pedestal topped with a copper bowl. No sound echoed from the space. No movement to cut the silence. He climbed the steps and circled the bowl, recognizing it as a cauldron. Circe’s, he guessed.
He lifted his gaze and scanned the room. Two arched doorways opened off the space. Moving in that direction, he peeked into a bedchamber and another room that housed rows and rows of books, a small sitting area, and a basic kitchen.
This was where she lived. Where Zeus had trapped her for over a thousand years to conjure her spells under his bidding. But she wasn’t here now. His heart pounded hard as he rationalized where she could be.
Cerek had said she was confined to this mountain. That because of Zeus’s curse she couldn’t leave. She had to be here. He hadn’t seen any other cave openings when he’d wandered up the path. That didn’t mean they weren’t out there but—
His mind shot back to the moment he’d stepped into the tunnel and the burst of cool air that had washed over his face.
It had come from the left. There’d been another tunnel.
He rushed back to the opening, found the second tunnel and realized why he’d missed it. It curved at a right angle, leaving the appearance of nothing but rock. Moving around the corner, he followed the second tunnel down as it wound deep into the center of Mt. Olympus.
The air was colder down here. Musty. Water dripped along the rock walls, puddled over the ground. He placed a hand on the cool stones as he followed the path, scanning the tunnel for changes, for threats, for Zeus himself.
The tunnel widened to a central, circular space. Several doors made of metal bars lined the room. One was dark and empty, opening to another tunnel that led deeper into the bowels of the mountain. His gaze skipped back to the doors. Cell doors, he realized. The trickle of liquid running under one drew his attention. He stepped toward it. Looked down. Realized the liquid wasn’t water, but blood.
“Circe?” Panic tightened into a fist around his throat. He grasped the bars and pulled. The door swung open easily, creaking on its hinges.
A groan echoed from inside.
Prometheus’s gaze sharpened, and he spotted a shadow on the floor against the far wall. “Keia?”
The shadow shifted, and another groan echoed. Blood trickled through the rocks along the floor. In a terror-filled heartbeat, Prometheus knew it was her.
He rushed to her side, knelt, and gently turned her away from the wall where she lay curled. She cried out in pain. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to—”
Blood covered his hands in the dark. As she turned onto her back and whimpered, he saw the giant gash in her neck, still spilling blood.
“Hold still.” Heart racing, he placed a hand over the wound at her neck. “This may hurt, but I promise it will help.”
He closed his eyes, called on his gifts. As a Titan, he had the ability to heal. It was how he’d survived that giant eagle’s attack each day. He could transfer that ability to another if he focused, but this particular gift wasn’t always reliable, as he didn’t often use it anymore.
Who the hell was he kidding? He never used it because he isolated himself from others in that castle high in the Argolean mountains.
“Hold on,” he whispered, focusing harder. Warmth gathered in his palm, permeated her skin. A golden glow radiated from where he touched her, the power of regeneration fusing her skin back together. Sweat beaded his brow. His muscles grew taut and rigid. What should already be healed wasn’t. He could feel the cells binding beneath his fingers, but it was taking much too long. Something was slowing him down. Something—
“Adamant,” Circe rasped, as if reading his mind. He opened his eyes to focus on her pain-filled face. Blood matted her hair and stained her white dress. “This cell is lined...with adamant. He drags me in here to keep me from casting...a spell to stop him.”
His gaze shot up to the rocks. Adamant was the strongest ore in all the realms. It didn’t just block her spells, it was weakening his gift, keeping him from healing her.
A clicking sound echoed from beyond the open door. His gaze shot in that direction. Beneath his hand, Circe stiffened.
“It’s him,” she said in a shaky voice, one filled not just with fear but with terror. “He’s come back. He’s early. You have to leave. You have to go before—”
A low snarl sounded from the doorway, followed by a growl that was both man and beast at the same time. “The witch is my prize. Back away.”
Prometheus let go of Circe and slowly pushed to his feet. She reached out, trying to stop him, but she was so weak from the blood loss, her fingers grazed his arm and dropped away. Focusing his eyesight, Prometheus zeroed in on the monster only to realize it was human.
No, not totally human. Part of it reeked of death. It was a shade. A death shadow that preyed on blood. It had attacked her. Continued to attack her, Prometheus realized when he remembered the way she’d been abruptly drawn away from him several times.
“Leave her or there will be consequences,” Prometheus said to the shade. A promise, not a warning.
The shade moved into the room, its long nails clicking an ominous sound against the floor. “And who will provide them? You? Your powers are useless down here, god. Adamant doesn’t affect the dead, but it does the living.”
“Titos,” Circe called in a frantic voice.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not just any god. I’m a Titan.”
The shade’s eyes widened, then it snarled and lunged.
CHAPTER SIX
The shade knocked Prometheus back into the rocks. His head hit the wall with a crack. Near his feet, Circe shrieked.
The shade was strong from drinking the witch’s blood. Prometheus, on the other hand, was weakened thanks to the adamant in the walls around him. Grasping the shade at the shoulders, he managed to keep the beast from ripping into the flesh of his arms and shoved the monster back.
His Titan strength may be weakened, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t stronger than this piece of shit.
The shade hit the far wall, bounced off, growled, and charged again. Prometheus waited until it drew close, then captured it by the waist, whipped around as he lifted it off its feet, and slammed it to the ground.
The shade whimpered but struggled under Prometheus’s hold.
“The only way...to kill a shade,” Circe managed from the corner of the room, “is to pierce its heart.”
Pierce its heart. That clearly could only be done when it was in human form. Which meant Prometheus had to work fast before it used up Circe’s blood reserved and morphed back into a death shadow. Which it was doing quickly as it exerted its strength to fight.
Pressing his weight into the shade to hold him still, Prometheus scanned the room for anything he could use to stake the fucker. The room was empty except for a wooden chair in the opposite corner from where Circe sat.
Dragging the struggling shade with him, Prometheus shoved the shade against the wall with one hand, held it tight by the throat, and broke a leg free of the chair with the other.
The shade snapped and snarled as the rest of the chair fell into a pile of wood against the floor. “What do you think you’re going to do with that? You can’t kill me. I’m already dead.”
“You’re right. I can’t kill you. But I can send you to Hades once and for all for what you’ve done.” He jammed the chair leg straight through the shade’s heart.
The shade?
??s eyes went bug wide, then its entire body disintegrated into ash and fluttered to the floor.
The stake crashed against the ground. Coughing, Prometheus fanned the ash away from his face and quickly moved back to Circe’s side.
“Careful,” he said when she reached for his arm. “You’re still bleeding.” Placing his hand back over the wound in her neck, he focused his gift so the tissue could begin to heal.
“You’re not safe here,” she rasped. “You have to go.”
“Shh.” He wrapped his arm around her and held her while he let his gift work. “Don’t move too much just yet.”
She stopped trying to turn and sank into him. “How did you find me?”
“The Argonauts.” When her brow wrinkled, he added, “Cerek.”
“But how did you know who I was?”
“I finally used my superhuman brain.” Her frown deepened in such an adorable way, he chuckled. “Okay, it’s not so superhuman. I just put your clues together. Keia. Goddess pharmakeia. I remembered that was what the commoners used to call the witch Circe. And when I thought back to what you’d said about Zeus punishing you for helping another, I realized you were the witch who helped rescue Cerek from Zeus’s service.”
Her green eyes softened in the dark. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wanted to tell you who I was, but I couldn’t. There are rules.”
“I know.” He lifted his hand, checked the wound beneath. The bleeding had stopped. The wound was still fresh, but a layer of new skin was already beginning to form. “And I’m not upset. I understand why you couldn’t tell me.” His gaze drifted to her face. “Though you should have told me about that shade.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t put you in danger.”
“I’m a Titan, Circe. Even weakened by adamant, I can kick a shade’s ass.”
“I see that. But it’s not the shade I’m worried about.”
Zeus. She was talking about Zeus. “He can’t hurt us anymore.”
“Titos—”
“Come on.” He pulled her to her feet. “We need to get back up to the surface so we can get the hell out of this realm. There’s not enough adamant in these walls to immobilize me, but there is enough to prevent me from teleporting.”
She pushed a hand against his chest, her feet shuffling over the ground as he maneuvered her toward the door. “You don’t understand. It’s not the adamant keeping me here. It’s—”
“It’s her love of power,” Zeus said from the doorway.
Prometheus drew to a stop, his arm around Circe’s waist. Against him, Circe froze and whispered, “Oh gods.”
“Stay behind me,” Prometheus said in a low voice, pushing her back.
“There’s no need for that, Titan.” Zeus stepped into the room. “We’re all friends here, right, witch?”
Behind Zeus, five Sirens rushed in, bows drawn, arrows poised at Prometheus’s heart.
“Just so we’re clear,” Zeus said. “Those arrows are made from adamant. So if you decide to bolt, Titan, you won’t get far.”
Prometheus’s jaw tightened. His dream had become a reality, the alternate future he’d ignored. He was trapped. Again. Only this time it wasn’t just him. “Let the witch go. You used her as bait and it worked. She means nothing to you and we both know it.”
“Oh, she was bait,” Zeus answered, lacing his fingers together behind his back. “But willing bait.”
“Titos,” Circe whispered in a pained voice at his back.
“Go on.” Zeus lifted a hand toward the witch. “Ask her yourself. Ask her about our deal. Her freedom from this mountain in exchange for seducing you into giving her the water element.”
Shock rippled through Prometheus as he turned and stared into Circe’s green eyes. “Is that true?”
Guilt rushed over her flawless features. “Yes, at first. But that was before I knew you. You have to believe me. I changed my mind.”
The pain of betrayal lanced his chest, as swift and sharp as that eagle’s beak had ever been. He turned away from her.
“Never trust a female, Titan.” Zeus clucked his tongue. “I thought you would have picked up that tidbit over your long lifetime.”
Anger and betrayal and stupidity swam in Prometheus’s veins. “When would I have picked that up? When I was chained to that rock?”
Zeus grinned. “It was a nice rock. You miss it, don’t you?”
Prometheus’s vision turned red. An image flashed in his mind, his hands wrapping around Zeus’s throat, his arms ripping the god’s head from his body and flinging it at his precious Sirens. But he’d never do that no matter how much he wanted to. Because attacking Zeus would guarantee the witch would never be freed. And even though she’d betrayed him, he still didn’t want her to suffer the way he had. Wouldn’t wish that kind of torment on anyone.
Anyone but Zeus, that was.
“Well, this has all been fun, but it’s time to get on with things.” Zeus sighed. “Sirens, take him.”
“Wait.” Circe jerked in front of Prometheus. “Take me instead. He told me where the water element is. You don’t need him anymore. Take me.”
Prometheus’s gaze darted to the back of her head as the Sirens moved up behind him and tugged his arms behind his back, cuffing him with the adamant shackles that would severely limit his powers. He’d never told her where the water element was located. They’d never even discussed the water element.
“Did you really think this was about the water element?” Zeus lifted his brow in amusement. “He doesn’t even know where the thing is. He scattered those elements over the earth on purpose so he’d never be able to tell another god where they’re located. I know that.” He angled his chin Prometheus’s direction. “He knows that. You, witch, are the only one who was stupid enough to fall for that ruse.”
A gasp rushed out of Circe’s mouth. Zeus turned away, but she rushed after him. “I can get you what you want. I can use the chain. Access his god essence in the metal and look back into his past with my powers to see where he scattered the elements. You don’t need him. You have me.”
Zeus whipped back to her so fast she stumbled, then his hand closed around Circe’s injured throat like a vise, and in one swift move he lifted her off the floor. Her face turned red. Her eyes bulged as she struggled to pry his hands free to no avail. Prometheus’s muscles flexed and he shifted an inch forward, but the adamant cuffs held him in place. And the Sirens’ daggers suddenly pushing against his side kept him from trying. “I’ll always have you, witch. You think you’re getting out of this cave? You’re never doing anything but what I say.”
He shoved her back into the wall and released her. Gasping, she fell to the floor and lifted a hand to her injured throat.
“Bring him,” Zeus said to the Sirens, turning for the tunnel.
The Sirens pushed Prometheus forward. His gaze shot to Circe on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Before he could answer, Zeus barked, “And bring her, too. She can watch as my new eagle feasts on the Titan’s flesh.”
* * * *
Circe watched in horror as the Sirens shackled Prometheus vertically to a flat rock, his arms outstretched above his head, his feet together against the ground. They were somewhere in the human realm, though she didn’t know where. The landscape was dry and barren, the hills around them littered with rock outcroppings baking in the sun.
She tried again to move her arms, but her hands were cuffed together at her back with a length of adamant chain, preventing any kind of movement. She couldn’t conjure a spell without her hands. Couldn’t even contact Prometheus’s daughter in the Argolean realm and tell her where her father was trapped. Finally, she was free from that cave, with all the power in the world within her grasp, yet she was unable to access it and save the male who’d come to mean more to her than any other.
“You know,” Zeus said in a cheerful voic
e as the Sirens checked Prometheus’s chains one last time to make sure he couldn’t move. “When Circe and I hatched this plan to lure you out of hiding, Titan, I had no idea it was going to be quite so easy.” Brushing a lock of hair away from Circe’s cheek, Zeus smiled down at her almost sweetly.
Sickness brewed in Circe’s stomach at the lies he was telling. Lies Prometheus was believing.
“She really is a find, isn’t she?” Zeus went on. “As seductive as any Siren, but as cunning and manipulative as the gods. Any male would be lucky to have her on his side. And I will have her on my side.” His eyes darkened with a heat that made her skin crawl. “And on her back, and on her hands and knees, all too soon. Finally, witch, you’re going to submit to me the way you should have submitted long ago.”
“I never agreed to this.” Rage simmered along Circe’s nerve endings, but she didn’t pull away from Zeus’s touch. Knew she wouldn’t be able to even if she tried. “And I’ll never submit to you. Not willingly.”
“Oh, you will.” Zeus’s grin faded, and he dropped his hand. “Because I have your lover, and if you don’t do exactly what I want this time, I’ll make his torture that much worse. Do you think I’m clueless? I knew all about your plan to double cross me and have Prometheus rescue you. I even knew when you gave up that plan and decided to sacrifice yourself to that shade so selflessly in a lame attempt to spare his life. I’m the god of the heavens, witch. I know everything. I let you think you were in control. And do you know why?” His eyes narrowed on Circe as he pointed toward Prometheus. “Because his suffering is going to be that much more satisfying when that eagle’s ripping into his flesh and he’s thinking about all the ways I’m fucking the female who’s fallen in love with him.”
In love with him? Was she? Panic rushed through Circe’s chest but turned to a warm liquid feeling that gave her strength.
Yes, she was in love with him. Quickly, madly, deeply in love with a Titan.
Zeus turned back to Prometheus with a smug grin. Circe’s gaze followed and rested on the Titan, chained to the rock wall, and bile slid up her throat at what Zeus had planned. But Prometheus’s hazel eyes weren’t on Zeus. They were locked on her. And they no longer brimmed with betrayal. They swam in a sea of regret and sorrow and pain.