TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7)

  When she was gone, Cynna clenched her jaw and moved toward the door, muttering, “Clingy nymphs.”

  Nick turned and followed. “Where’s the other one?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Cynna obviously knew who he meant, but that answer wasn’t good enough for Nick. They moved out into the dimly lit corridor, and another moan echoed down the hall, causing the darkness inside to surge all over again.

  “Is she alive?” he asked.

  Cynna slid the key in another lock. “I don’t know.”

  “But you know what happened to both of them.”

  She turned the key. “Once they left me, their fates were out of my hands.”

  Nick braced a hand on the door above her head before she could pull it open. “But you know what happened to them,” he repeated.

  Cynna’s shoulders dropped. “Don’t make me do this now. If you do, we’ll never get to them all.”

  They couldn’t get to them all no matter what they did. And Nick needed to know the answer to his question before they moved on. “They weren’t willing participants, were they? That nymph was a prisoner, just like me. She was innocent.”

  Cynna’s stilled, but she didn’t remove her hand from the door handle or turn to look at him. “No one here is innocent. Not truly. But yes, everyone is a prisoner. Some are just required to do…more…than others.”

  Like her.

  His stomach tightened with the reality he’d been right—on both counts—and he dropped his hand and stepped back so she could open the door. He just wasn’t sure what it meant toward her reasons for freeing him or how that changed what he knew of her relationship with Zagreus.

  Straightening, she pulled on the handle. The metal clanged, then hinges squeaked. She moved into the cell. Hands damp, he lifted the flashlight and followed, shining the light over the back of the room. A female sat leaning against the wall, her dark hair falling to her waist, her pale blue eyes wide and unfocused.

  “We’re here to free you.” Not wanting to think about Cynna and Zagreus right now, Nick stepped past Cynna, wrapped a hand around the female’s thin arm, and hauled her to her feet.

  The female’s eyes grew even wider. “You can’t.”

  Cynna slid the key in the cuffs at the female’s wrists. “Follow the tunnel to the right. There’s a set of stairs—”

  “I know where the stairs are.” The female tugged her arm back and knocked the key free.

  “Dammit.” Cynna knelt to pick it up.

  “The guards will be here in minutes,” Nick said.

  “Then you’d best go before they arrive,” the female answered. She pulled her arm from his hand, stepped back, then sat against the wall once more. “I can’t leave.”

  She’d clearly been brainwashed. No one who was thinking clearly would choose this hell over freedom. “Listen, we—”

  “No, you listen, son.” She turned those pale blue eyes upward. Eyes filled with a wisdom that sent a familiar warning through Nick’s blood. “It’s safer for everyone if I remain.”

  Nick didn’t have a clue what she meant. He opened his mouth to ask, but she cut him off by saying, “You can do one thing for me, though.”

  “What?”

  “Find Epimetheus. Tell him… Tell him not to come after me. I know he’s been looking.”

  Holy shit. Nick’s stomach tightened. This was Pandora. The first human woman created by the gods. The keeper of all the evils of humanity. That darkness inside jerked with delight. He glanced around the cell for a jar or urn or box of some kind, but found nothing but cold, empty stone.

  “It’s not here,” Pandora whispered as if reading his mind. “It’s well hidden.”

  Voices and footsteps drifted from the hall. Cynna rushed to the door and peeked out, then muttered, “Skata.” She turned back to face the room. “The guards are coming.”

  “Go now,” Pandora said, looking up at Nick. “There is no other choice.”

  Nick hesitated. If she was the scourge of the world, he couldn’t leave her in Zagreus’s hands. And that dark part of himself, the part linked to Krónos, wanted her with him. Wanted the powers she could unleash.

  “You can’t control them,” Pandora said, reading his mind again. “No one can. Not even me. Zagreus has already tried everything to get me to tell him where it is, but I won’t. If you free me, however, I will be attracted to it, and he will follow. And if that happens, the world as you know it will cease to exist.”

  “Nick,” Cynna said, drawing a dagger from her back. “We have to go now.”

  Nick still hesitated. They were out of time, and they all knew it. And yet, he still struggled with the choice before him. This was power like nothing he’d ever know. This was his chance to wield it without giving in to his father. “I’ll send someone back for you.”

  “Don’t,” Pandora whispered as he stepped toward the door. “Humanity is safe so long as I remain here.”

  Possibly. Though the vile part of Nick wouldn’t believe that. And the honorable part—the part he struggled to bring to the forefront—knew no one deserved this kind of imprisonment. Not even her.

  Tearing his gaze from Pandora, he moved up behind Cynna and peered over her head into the corridor. “How many?”

  “Three, I think. They passed and turned down a tunnel to the right. We’re clear. But we don’t have time to free any others.”

  No, they didn’t. Not if they wanted to live. And Nick wanted to live. Now more than ever.

  He glanced back toward Pandora as Cynna drew the door open. “I’ll find your husband. I’ll tell him.”

  “He’s not my husband, Guardian.”

  Considering what Nick knew of the gods’ unions, he had no idea what she meant, but that one word—guardian—overrode his curiosity as he followed Cynna back into the dimly lit corridor. The female had obviously seen the ancient Greek text on his arms. But he wasn’t a guardian. And just the fact he’d toyed with the idea of taking her regardless of her warnings proved he didn’t deserve to be one either.

  They moved back down the corridor in silence. Cell doors on each side were once again closed, hiding the fact their prisoners were now gone. The only open door sat at the far end of the hall. The door that led to freedom.

  Cynna released a breath as they drew close. “Finally.”

  Yeah, finally. But Nick wasn’t able to share in her relief. Because he was suddenly wondering if there could ever be any kind of freedom for someone like him. Or if he was just trading one kind of prison for another.

  Cynna moved for the open door. Just as she reached the threshold, a satyr stepped in her path. One Nick recognized as in charge down here in the dungeons. One holding a blade as long as his arm.

  Adrenaline flooded Nick’s body. He reached around for the parazonium strapped to his back.

  “Going somewhere, Mistress?” the satyr growled. Behind him, two more satyrs moved into position. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cynna gasped and dropped back a step. Lykos’s eyes glowed red with fury as he moved close, malice twisting his face. She’d seen the satyr pissed but knew this was something altogether different. Hand shaking, she reached back for the weapon strapped to her back.

  “Oh, you’re not going to need that, Mistress.” Lykos arced out with his arm before Cynna could grasp her blade. The back of his hand connected with her cheek, knocking her back and down.

  A sharp shot of pain rushed across her face. She grunted and fell into Nick. Strong arms closed around her, breaking her fall. But he didn’t pull her up like she expected. Instead, he laid her on the ground, hissed, “Stay down,” then stepped over her.

  “You want to play now, human?” Lykos snarled. “Okay, we’ll play.”

  Cynna’s ears were ringing. She gave her head a swift shake and looked up. Nick was crouched down in a fighting stance, the blade held loosely in his hand, waiting for the attack. “Play is all I think you know how to do, satyr.”


  Nick swung out with the blade, slicing into Lykos’s arm. Blood welled, and the beast jerked back.

  The two satyrs behind Lykos growled and charged. But Lykos stopped them by lifting his arm and barking, “He’s mine.”

  Fury suffused Lykos’s face as he took a step to his right. “I’m going to enjoy slicing you into bits, human. And when I’m done, I’ll give that bitch everything she deserves.”

  Cynna braced her hands on the ground and scooted back, her gaze never leaving Lykos’s face. The satyr focused on Nick, but the two behind him were staring straight at her. Sizing her up. Waiting for her to join in the fight.

  She glanced toward the open door and the stairs that led up to the surface. If she made a run for it, they’d follow. She wouldn’t get far. Her gaze darted back to Nick, moving to his right as Lykos began to circle around him. She’d seen him hold his own against two, three, even four satyrs, but none of the ones Zagreus had tossed into the ring with Nick were Lykos. There was a reason he was Zagreus’s number two. Because he was a ruthless son of a bitch and the strongest satyr in this hellhole.

  She couldn’t run. No matter how much she wanted to get away. She hadn’t freed Nick so he could die here.

  Lykos charged. Nick ducked under the satyr’s arm and slammed his elbow into Lykos’s back. Lykos cried out and whipped around. Blade met blade. Grunts and the sounds of fists slamming bone resonated in the corridor. Cynna pushed to her feet, her hands inching up the cold stone wall. She glanced past Nick and Lykos, toward the two satyrs beyond. They were both still staring at her. And the one on the left was salivating.

  “Cynna, watch out!”

  Nick’s voice dragged Cynna’s gaze back to the fight.

  Nick slammed his fist into Lykos’s jaw, shoving the satyr into the rocks. He gripped the satyr’s wrist and smashed it against the wall, knocking the blade free from his gnarled fingers. “Behind you!”

  Cynna grasped the blade from her back and whipped around. Two more satyrs were barreling down on them. Bracing her feet against the uneven ground, she slashed out with her blade, catching the first across the chest just as he reached her.

  The satyr dropped back and howled. Growls echoed at her back. Followed by more footsteps, smacks, bone hitting bone and cracking against rock. Sweat slicked her skin as she kicked the first satyr away and stabbed at the second. Her blade sank deep into soft flesh, and he grunted, then fell back on his ass. She yanked her weapon free and ducked, just missing the blade of the first who’d lurched back to his feet and swung his blade like a major league slugger.

  Metal clanged against metal in the corridor as Cynna’s blade collided with the satyr’s. She ducked another blow and looked for Nick in the chaos. He was covered in sweat and blood, holding his own against all three now with both the blade and the mace he’d picked up in the armory, but if any more showed up, they were going to—

  The pounding of heavy footfalls sounded from the tunnels. Forget if. They were about to be overrun.

  Cynna twisted, ducked, and struck out with her blade, catching the satyr at her front in the neck. His eyes flew wide; he gasped and then dropped to the ground. Breathing heavily, she brushed the hair out of her eyes and turned, ready to grab Nick and get the fuck out of there. But before she could make a move, something sharp stabbed into her side, just under her ribs.

  She gasped. Jerked back. Her eyes flew wide. The satyr still on his ass, the one she’d caught in the chest, grinned up at her with an evil, twisted light flickering in his eyes.

  Son of a bitch...

  Pain, disbelief, and rage spiraled through Cynna. Pressing a hand against her side, she ground her teeth and swung out, slicing clean through the satyr’s throat. Blood gushed from his carotid artery, killing his victorious grin. He fell back, his head cracking hard against the rocks.

  Wincing, she turned toward Nick and leaned into the rocks, drawing a deep breath. A glance down confirmed she was bleeding. Heavily. Dropping her weapon, she tugged off her jacket and bit her lip to keep from crying out at the pain. After tying the jacket around her torso, she picked up her blade again.

  The footsteps grew louder. Voices ricocheted off the rocks. Holy Hades, they were out of time. “Nick!”

  Nick had taken down one satyr, but Lykos and the other were coming at him from different angles. Blade in one hand, the mace in the other, he kicked out at Lykos, twisted away from the second satyr’s blade, and swung out with the mace.

  Lykos ducked under Nick’s mace and twirled around behind him, trapping Nick between the two beasts. Nick whipped his blade toward the satyr on his other side, missed, and glanced over his shoulder at Lykos.

  Lykos growled and advanced. The other satyr followed suit. Nick swung out at the first satyr and sliced through his arm. Grunting, Cynna pushed away from the wall and stumbled forward. Sweat slicked her skin, dripped down into her eyes but Lykos’s back was angled her way. And she knew if she didn’t help now, Nick might not get out of this alive.

  Ignoring the pain in her side, she lunged forward, shoving her blade outward as hard as she could.

  Metal pierced flesh, skewering Lykos in the back. The satyr howled. But before Cynna could grasp his shoulder and shove the blade deeper, a voice she knew almost as well as her own flooded the tunnel.

  “Where is that shit-for-brains satyr?”

  Zagreus. That was Zagreus’s voice. Cynna whirled toward the sound, every inch of her body surging with adrenaline.

  Nick kicked the second satyr to the ground and pulled his blade free of the beast’s chest. He tried to see down the hall. Scowling, he muttered, “Fuck, we gotta go.”

  Lykos stumbled back into the wall, one hand covering the wound clear through to his belly, blood oozing from the spot to stain his torn shirt. His chest rose and fell with his uneven breaths as he glared Cynna’s way. “You won’t get far, bitch. He’ll find you.”

  Cynna’s vision turned red, and she gripped her blade to deliver the death blow, but Nick grabbed her by the sleeve. “There’s no time. Go.” He hauled her toward the open door and the steps that ran to freedom. “Fucking go.”

  Cynna struggled to pull free of his grip so she could finally finish this, once and for all, but Nick held her too tightly. She shot him an infuriated look back, then realized his sudden urgency.

  Zagreus stalked straight toward them. A firestorm of fury and vengeance and the promise of death rolled like thunder in his black as sin eyes.

  Flashes of what had happened in her room, what had propelled her to run, echoed in Cynna’s mind. The blood. Being unable to move. Zagreus’s voice.

  ‘“My blood flows in your veins now. You will never be free of me. Not until I have what I want...”

  Horror rocketed through her entire body, replacing every other thought and emotion and instinct.

  She scrambled for the stairs. Nick pulled her into the stairwell and slammed the door shut behind them. Grasping her arm, he tugged her with him as he moved up the steps, and this time, she didn’t fight him. “Don’t stop moving. Keep going. We’re almost free.”

  Free…

  The word was a ghost. A fantasy. A dream.

  A lie.

  Reality chilled every inch of her skin. She was never going to be free. Lykos had been right. She might escape these walls, but she would always be Zagreus’s prisoner. She’d made a deal with the devil, and one way or another, it would haunt her, forever.

  Wet palm fronds slapped Nick across the face. Swiping the rain out of his eyes, he drew a deep breath of humid air while he waited for Cynna to catch up, then paused to look around.

  They’d been on the move for well over an hour. Closer to two, he guessed. As soon as they’d come up those stairs from Zagreus’s lair, they’d found themselves shrouded in darkness with only a scattering of light from above to illuminate their way. Tall palms rose to the sky. Thick underbrush made it virtually impossible to move fast. He’d been captured in summer, which meant it had to be January now, but you’d never know
by their surroundings. Insects hummed in the darkness. Every now and then the brush rustled. And the sounds combined with the heat, the humidity, the tropical foliage… It all told him they were in some kind of jungle. Where, though, he wasn’t sure.

  He didn’t have a clue where the prisoners they’d released had gone. He’d heard voices as they’d wrestled their way through the jungle, but hadn’t seen a single soul. He also hadn’t heard any of Zagreus’s satyrs on their trail. A fact that set the scars on his back tingling with suspicion.

  Heavy breaths sounded at his back. He turned as Cynna stepped up to his side, lowered the blade in her hand to the ground, and leaned against a tree. “I’m slowing you down.” She braced her hand at her side and sucked in another breath. “You should go on without me.”

  Nick looked down at her hand, pressing into her left side under her ribs. A sprinkling of moonlight shone down, just enough to illuminate the thick redness coating her fingers. “You’re injured?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  He moved closer, pushed her hand away, and tugged the jacket from around her waist so he could see the torn fabric beneath.

  “I said it’s nothing.”

  He lifted the hem of her shirt. A two-inch, bloody gash cut across her side. “That’s not nothing.”

  Wincing, she pulled back. Warm, red blood pooled from the wound. “I’ll…be fine.”

  No, she wouldn’t be. Not if she didn’t get that tended. Conflicting emotions rippled through Nick. Yes, she’d overseen some of his worst torture in Zagreus’s caves, but she’d also freed him, something she didn’t have to do. And, clearly, she’d paid the price.

  He lowered her shirt. “Where are we?”

  Cynna cinched the coat tight around her waist once more, grimacing with the movement, then leaned back against the trunk of the tree. “The Yucatan. Belize.”

  Central America. Motherfucker. That didn’t give them a lot of options.

  Wisps of that odd blonde hair stuck to her temple and cheek. Her face was pale. From this angle, he could now see blood had soaked clear through her jacket. In another hour, she’d be too weak to walk, which meant putting more space between them and Zagreus was only going to get tougher.