TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7)

  “Good.” Callia looked toward Casey. “In the meantime, I could use your help.”

  “Name it.”

  “I need to check the ancient texts. For anything related to the Horae. If I can’t figure out what’s going on medically, then that means it has to be something genetic.”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  Callia nodded, sat in her chair, and flipped the book open.

  “Callia,” Casey said. “What about Zander?”

  Callia’s hand stilled on the page, and she exhaled a long breath. “I’ll tell him.”

  “He’s going to be thrilled.”

  “I know.” Callia shook her head and turned a page. “But this isn’t exactly something to celebrate. If we can’t stop Isadora from growing weaker, and she continues to decline and eventually dies—”

  “What?” Isadora’s head snapped up. Dies? No way. Now her sisters were getting way ahead of themselves. “I’m fine. A little tired but fine. This is complete paranoia at its—”

  “Oh, holy gods,” Casey breathed.

  The color drained from her cheeks, and she placed a protective hand over her belly. And in a flash, a whole new understanding dawned, bringing a wave of dizziness to Isadora’s head.

  Callia looked up. “Yeah. It means we will too. And Zander, because I’m his weakness. I already abandoned one child to the world alone. I won’t do it a second time. Whatever it takes, we’re going to figure this out. After everything we’ve been through, I refuse to accept that this is the end.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Dammit.” Nick ground his teeth together as the Chevy he’d snagged from the small village slowed and sputtered out. He cut the wheel to the right, jostling the vehicle over holes in the side of the narrow dirt road.

  The rig came to a stop. At his side, Cynna startled awake and lifted her head from the passenger window where she’d been leaning. “Wh-what happened?”

  “Ran out of gas.”

  She grimaced, pressed a hand against her side as she sat up straighter, and looked out the windshield with cloudy eyes. “Where are we?”

  Nick didn’t have a clue. It was still dark outside, probably around five a.m., he guessed from the position of the moon. They hadn’t passed a settlement for at least an hour, and the jungle rose on both sides of the one-lane road, encroaching in several spots like monstrous tentacles. If there was an actual airstrip out here, he’d eat his own damn shoes. It’d be just like Ari to fuck with him on this.

  He checked the coordinates on the cell phone he’d taken from that house and frowned. “It’s not far from here. We’re gonna have to walk the rest of the way.”

  The greenish glow from the dashboard illuminated her pale face and the way she winced. She leaned back against the seat, still pressing her hand to her side. “Maybe I should just stay here.”

  Dammit… He’d told himself he was getting her out of this jungle, and he meant it, whether she cooperated or not. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with her after, but something in his gut wouldn’t leave her behind for Zagreus to find and torture. Not after she’d risked her life to free him. Not when she might still be important.

  He climbed out of the truck, stalked around the hood, then pulled the passenger door open. Sliding his arm under her knees, he lifted her out of the truck. She bit back a groan, and he knew the movement had to cause her excruciating pain, but she didn’t protest. “It’s only about a mile away.”

  Survival skills. This female had them. After everything she’d been through, that made perfect sense. But one thought wouldn’t leave his head as he carried her into the jungle. One thing she’d told him when he’d been tending her wound, which he didn’t like. The bitter reality that she’d chosen to make a deal with Zagreus all for the sake of revenge.

  “Not all prisons have walls…”

  No, they didn’t. He knew that better than most. It was highly possible she hadn’t known what she was getting into and that her deal had become its own form of torture. But still…what kind of hatred must a person harbor to make a deal with the Prince of Darkness? What kind of anger had to drive them?

  The same kind of hatred you had for your mother. The same anger you feel right now for your father for cursing your life.

  An odd tingle took up space in his chest. He zeroed in on his senses, hoping something new would make him able to read Cynna’s mind so he could figure out what she wasn’t telling him, but that clearly wasn’t a gift he’d acquired. Because, no, he wasn’t that fucking lucky, now was he?

  The trees ended abruptly, and Nick stepped out into a wide, green field with one tiny shack a hundred yards away.

  “Wh-what is this?” Cynna asked.

  He thought she’d fallen asleep. She’d been silent during the entire trek, her muscles lax in his arms. “I’m not sure. I think it’s the airstrip.”

  The grass in the middle of the field was shorter than along the edges but still knee-high. There was no sign of life anywhere close. If this was the airstrip Ari had told him about, it was a primitive one and seldom used. Which meant the chief inhabitants of the area were probably drug runners and cartels.

  Fucking fantastic. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was humans.

  He set Cynna down twenty yards from the shack. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  She didn’t argue. Just lay down in the grass, shivered, and closed her eyes. And as he pushed to his feet and looked down at her, a whisper of worry rippled through him—worry he knew he shouldn’t be feeling but couldn’t shake.

  She’s not a person. She’s insurance.

  He turned away, repeating the words in his head. But the way she looked—vulnerable, broken, weak—flashed over and over in his mind, keeping him from thinking about anything but her.

  The shack was easy to break into. Inside he found a mower, machetes for cutting jungle foliage, shovels, work gloves, and a few odds-and-ends-type survival materials.

  He didn’t know how long they’d be out here waiting, so he grabbed what he thought they’d need, then headed back to Cynna. The area was still dark, and he checked the phone in his pocket to see if he’d gotten any messages, but the screen was blank.

  Damn, Ari.

  Irritation mounting, he covered Cynna with a blanket he’d grabbed from the shack. “Here, lift up.”

  She blinked several times and slowly lifted her head from the ground. But her face blanched from the simple movement. Telling himself it wasn’t his problem, he shoved another blanket under the side of her face, then went to work finding wood to build a fire.

  She lay back down and closed her eyes once more. “Thanks.”

  The word was softly spoken. Almost a whisper. And so damn strange coming from her, he didn’t know what to think. This whole situation was insane. As was the odd desire to sit with her again like he’d done in the jungle, to run his hand down her blonde hair and comfort the person who’d tortured him for the last six months.

  Shit. You’re clearly losing it, man.

  He exhaled a long breath and gathered an armful of wood. Prisoner. She was his prisoner now. And the sooner he remembered that fact, the better off he’d be.

  He came back, stacked the wood, then used the lighter he’d found in the shack to ignite the wood. The flames started slowly, then quickly licked their way up the twigs and branches.

  Nick sat back and rested his forearms on his knees as he stared into the fire. It wasn’t cold enough out here to need heat. He’d built it to keep animals away and to illuminate the area so Ari could find the airstrip. He hadn’t built it because Cynna was cold, dammit.

  Denial, dude. First sign you’re fucked.

  “Who is this friend we’re waiting for?”

  Cynna’s mumbled words dragged Nick from his messed-up thoughts, and he glanced to his left where she was lying at his side. With her eyes closed and the moonlight making her hair appear even more blonde, she looked almost like an angel. His chest constricted with unfamiliar emotions. “
Just a guy I’ve known for several years.”

  “A human?”

  “No.”

  “What is he?”

  Nick looked back at the fire, thinking of a way to describe Ari. “He used to be Argolean.”

  Her eyes slowly slid open. “Used to be? How do you ‘used to be’ something?”

  Nick tried not to look, but couldn’t stop himself from glancing sideways at her. At her pale features, the sweat dampening her brow, and the firelight dancing in her glassy eyes.

  Dammit. He didn’t feel things for other people. Not individuals, anyway. For his race…yes. And that had only started because helping the Misos thrive was a way to get back at the Argolean Council who’d shunned him as a child. But even with that singular goal, at his core he was a loner. And, knowing who his parents were, for good reason. So no way in hell should he be feeling anything for any female, especially the one beside him now.

  He clenched his jaw and stared into the fire. “His people think he’s dead. That’s how.”

  “Why would they think that?”

  “Because he wants it that way.”

  She was curious. But he wasn’t in the mood to give her more. Especially not when she was fucking with his head.

  The hum of a motor echoed in the darkness, and Nick’s senses kicked in. Glancing up, he spotted the plane, still three miles off in the inky sky. Relief washed through his veins like a vat of sweet wine. “There he is.”

  “Where?” Cynna looked up. “I don’t see anything.”

  Nick pushed to his feet. “You will.”

  Red lights blinked in the darkness. The hum of the engine grew louder. The single-engine Cessna made a large circle over the runway, then dropped in the sky, heading right for them.

  Cynna grimaced and pushed up to sitting. “He’s coming in sideways.”

  She was right. The wings of the small plane were wagging up and down. If that fucker was showing off and crashed the plane now…

  The left wheel touched down. Then the right. A roar sounded through the field as the brakes were applied. Finally, the plane slowed and turned, rumbling their direction.

  The engine cut off, and the propeller died. Inside the cockpit, the pilot pulled off a headset, popped the door open, and dropped to the ground with a raucous, rolling laugh. “Hot damn, that was fun.”

  Nick frowned as he crossed to greet Ari. “You sure do like to make an entrance.”

  Ari’s mismatched eyes—one a brilliant blue, the other a deep green—twinkled in the lights from the plane. He captured Nick’s forearm in a tight grip and grinned, his white teeth all but glowing in the darkness. “Thought you were dead, man. Everyone did. Gotta say, though, dead isn’t exactly a bad place to be. Like the hair, by the way.”

  Nick let go of Ari’s marked forearm and ran a hand over the thick blond hair on his skull. Normally, he kept it shaved—way easier to deal with—but in the months he’d been held captive, he hadn’t had the luxury. “Feels fucking weird.”

  Ari’s always assessing, ever-wild eyes narrowed and shot a look past Nick. He lifted his chin Cynna’s direction. “Who’s the female?”

  Reluctantly, Nick turned her way. He didn’t need Ari knowing just who she was or how she was involved, especially not when he was still trying to work it all out in his head. He might have called the guy for help, but that didn’t mean he trusted him. Not completely. Especially knowing Ari’s quirks. “Just someone who helped me escape.”

  Ari drew in a deep sniff. “Not a Siren. But she smells of nymph. And that makes her of high interest.”

  He pushed past Nick and headed right for her.

  Shit.

  Nick turned and caught up. Ari was as skilled a hunter and tracker as Nick, maybe more so since living in the wild these last few years. But his methods were more than questionable.

  Dressed in worn jeans, a short-sleeved gray shirt, and boots, Ari stopped in front of the fire, tucked his massive hands into his pockets, and tipped his dark head as he stared down at Cynna. The firelight seemed to dance over the puckered scars that covered the left side of his jaw, ran down his neck, and disappeared under the collar of his T-shirt. “She’s Argolean.”

  “Yeah.” Nick held his breath, wondering how the hell this was going to go down. Ari’s obsession with Sirens was well known, but his interest in nymphs was personal.

  “And you said she was one of Zagreus’s prisoners?”

  Crap. Ari was making connections. Suddenly Nick was wishing he’d left Cynna in the jungle after all. “Yeah.”

  Cynna pulled the blanket over her lap, but her dark eyes were still glassy as they darted from him to Ari and back again. Nick knew she was having trouble following the conversation. So was he, for that matter.

  “Does she have a name, or do you just call her bitch?”

  “Hey now,” Cynna finally said, her spine stiffening. “Who the hell do you think you—”

  “Cynna,” Nick cut in, wanting only to keep the peace right now. They needed Ari’s help. Not to piss the guy off. “Her name is Cynna.”

  “Cynna…” His mismatched eyes narrowed and held on her face. “I’ve heard of a female with the same name in Zagreus’s keep. Looks like you’ve caught yourself a live one.”

  Before Nick could ask what he’d heard, Ari pulled a jagged knife from the small of his back and lurched around the fire.

  He was big and muscular—almost as big as Nick—and Cynna recoiled as he drew close. His massive hands grasped Cynna by the shoulders and pinned her to the ground. Cynna yelped. Ari climbed over her.

  “Son of a bitch.” Nick sprinted around the fire. “Ari, godsdammit, let go of her.”

  Cynna screeched a bloodcurdling cry, and Nick’s adrenaline went sky-high. He grasped Ari by the shoulder but couldn’t pull the bastard off. Shifting around, he caught sight of what Ari was doing. His knees held her pinned to the ground while the knife in his hand sliced through the flesh of her forearm.

  Blood gushed from the wound. Ari dropped the knife and drove his fingers into her muscle. Cynna screamed and kicked out but couldn’t get away.

  “Motherfucker, Ari.” Nick grabbed the male’s shoulders and yanked him back. “I said to let go. She’s not a fucking threat.”

  Ari released Cynna and stumbled back, barely missing falling into the fire. In his bloody hands, he held up something small and metallic. “Not a threat? What the fuck do you call this?”

  Nick’s chest heaved. He focused on the small circular device in Ari’s bloodstained fingers. “Is that—”

  “A tracking device. Yeah.” Ari nodded toward Cynna. “You said she helped you escape. You sure she’s not setting a trap for you instead? They call her the Mistress, man. I’ve heard all about her in my travels. She’s Zagreus’s whore.”

  Cynna moaned and rolled to her side on the ground, clutching her bloody forearm in her hand.

  Chest rising and falling with his deep breaths, Nick looked down at her, fighting his first reaction to assume the worst. He tuned in to his senses. Searched his mind for what he knew as fact. And came up…completely fucking empty.

  Shit. What good were powers if he couldn’t access them? Think, dammit. She could have known. He’d sensed she wasn’t telling him the whole truth earlier when he’d asked why no one was following them. She could still be working with Zagreus, luring him into some kind of trap as Ari suggested. But the way she’d repeatedly told him to leave her behind, that panicked look in her eyes when she’d come down to his cell and freed him… Those weren’t things someone still working for Zagreus would do. Not if she knew she was being tracked and that staying with him would lead to his recapture.

  Nick snatched the tracker from Ari, dropped it on the ground, then crushed it under his boot. Anger coiled through him. Anger because he couldn’t get a solid read on Cynna. And because, thanks to him, she was now in even more pain. “I know who the hell she is. Why do you think I brought her with me?”

  He knelt beside her, reached for her should
er, and rolled her over. “Stay still.”

  “I didn’t know,” she whispered, still clutching her arm. “He came to my room after I left you. I…I couldn’t remember clearly, so I didn’t say anything. He was livid. He saw us.” She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, breathing through the pain. “When I awoke, I was covered in blood. I don’t know what happened. I just knew I had to get out of there. That if I stayed, he was going to kill me…us. He…he could have put that…thing…in my arm then. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

  “Shh.” Her words were hurried, rushing together, and filled with a sense of immediacy that set off a strange protective urge inside Nick. One he’d never felt before. “It’s okay.” He shot an irritated look over his shoulder toward Ari. “Get the hell over here and fix this.”

  Ari scowled but stalked their direction. “She’s lying. All females lie.”

  Cynna’s muscles contracted as he drew close, but Nick pressed his hands against her shoulders to hold her still. “Don’t move. He’s not going to cut you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Ari knelt on her other side and rested his bloody hands on his thighs. “You should just let her die, man. More humane.”

  “I’m not human.”

  Ari chuckled, the sound dark and slightly crazed. “That’d be too fucking easy, now wouldn’t it?”

  Nick watched as Ari held his hands over the wound on her arm. Cynna’s eyes grew wide, and she struggled beneath Nick’s grip, but Nick only held her tighter.

  “If you want to change your mind,” Ari said, “now’s the time to say so.”

  “Just do it,” Nick growled.

  Ari shook his head. “It’s your damn funeral, man.”

  He laid his palm over Cynna’s bleeding forearm. Her gaze followed, her eyes growing so wide the whites could be seen all around her dark irises. The skin beneath Ari’s palm began to glow, dimly at first, then growing in intensity until it was a beaming white light, making his skin look translucent and the edges of his hand shine red.

  Cynna’s eyes slammed shut. Her back bowed off the ground, and an ear-piercing scream ripped from her mouth. Nick held her tighter. Long seconds passed while Ari knit the wound back together, then the glow finally dimmed. When he lifted his hand, the wound was closed, but the skin all around it was red, inflamed, and sizzling.