Archways opened to a library, a sitting area, what looked like offices. With every step, her anxiety shot up, and she searched each room for any sign of the queen, hoping and praying she wouldn’t run into the female before she could escape. Fifteen minutes. She could give Nick fifteen minutes after everything she’d put him through.
They drew to a stop outside another open doorway, but this time Cynna couldn’t see past the Argonauts to get a look in the room. Voices resonated from the open doorway, though. A female’s and a male’s, both clearly in deep conversation.
“No,” the female said, “Lord Tiberius definitely sent spies. We’ve intercepted two couriers taking back detailed reports to the Council, outlining the layout of the settlement, the entrances and exits, even the Argonauts’ arrival and departure times. They’re looking for patterns. Waiting for the perfect time to hit.”
“You really think they’ll do that?” the male asked. “That would be brazen, even for them. Their political campaign hasn’t even kicked into high gear yet. They risk alienating a large section of the population with a preemptive strike against an unarmed group.”
“It’s a calculated risk,” another female said. “Eliminate them before they pose a risk. And don’t forget, the witches are aiding them, which, in the eyes of the Council, gives them justification for any kind of attack.”
“I guess,” the male said. “But I haven’t picked up on any of that yet, and I’ve been spending as much time with the Council as I can.”
“They’re not going to plan when you could overhear,” the first female said. “Why would they? They know where your allegiance lies, even if they did vote you in.”
“We’re going to need to up security around the settlement,” a third female said, this one’s voice softer than the others. “Even if it means pulling the Argonauts from the human realm, I want—”
Theron knocked on the doorjamb, and the voices inside died down. But that fire in Cynna was growing all over again as the first few Argonauts stepped into the room. Just the mention of the witches and the Council made the temperature of her blood feel as if it shot up ten degrees.
“My queen.” Theron bowed slightly as he stepped into the room. “There’s someone I think you’d like to see.”
Queen? Queen?
Cynna’s eyes flew wide, and her heart lurched into her throat, beating so hard she felt as if she were about to choke. She instinctively pulled back, but Nick gripped her hand tightly in his and tugged her with him into the room.
The floor was made of marble. The ceiling was decked out in dark wood beams, and tall, arching windows looked out at a view of the bay, but that was all Cynna could catch. Because suddenly she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop the panic stabbing into every inch of her skin like hot, sharp knives.
“Relax,” he said softly at her side. “Fifteen minutes. That’s it.”
No. She couldn’t stay fifteen minutes. She couldn’t even stay five. And forget about relaxing. She had to get the hell out of here, right fucking now.
Hand shaking, Cynna tried to pull away again, only to freeze when she heard the female voice from across the room exclaim, “Nick.”
Her gaze lifted. A slight, petite female with white-blonde hair rose from behind a desk that looked like it could swallow her whole, and stared wide-eyed at Nick. A female Cynna knew on first look.
Cynna’s heart rate shot up. Footsteps died down at her back as more people filed into the room. Standing on the far side of the desk was another male, as big as the Argonauts, and two females, one with long, golden blonde hair, and the other with shoulder-length auburn locks, looking from Nick to her and back again with veiled curiosity.
No one spoke. Silence settled over the tall room as everyone waited for… Hell, Cynna didn’t know what they were waiting for.
Long seconds passed. And then Isadora’s face brightened, and she moved quickly around the desk before coming to a stop directly in front of Nick.
She was smaller than Cynna realized, a full head shorter than her, pale where Cynna was dark and weak where Cynna was strong. But standing so close to the queen, every inferiority Cynna had ever felt came rushing back. And the moment the female threw her arms around Nick and hugged him tight, breaking his hold on Cynna’s hand, Cynna snapped right out of her trance. Her blood didn’t just hover at bubbling, it went into full-on boil.
“Nick,” the queen exclaimed. “Oh my gods. I can’t… I’m so…” She drew back but didn’t let go of him, and a wide smile broke across her face. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Still no one spoke. The tension remained as high as ever in the room. And though Cynna’s hands were just itching to grab the queen and tear her away from Nick, she held back. Her gaze shifted to Nick. And focused on the totally perplexed expression on his scarred face.
Isadora’s smile wobbled. And her gaze darted past Nick to the tall, dark Argonaut behind him. The one Cynna had quickly realized back at the colony was Nick’s brother.
“Demetrius.” She let go of Nick with one hand, reached around behind him, grabbed the dark-haired Argonaut’s forearm, and dragged him to her side. But, Cynna noticed, she still didn’t let go of Nick with her other hand. “I can’t believe it. How did you…? When—”
The auburn-haired female, the one who was standing near the queen’s desk, moved close and placed two fingers on Isadora’s wrist—the one connected to the hand still resting on Nick’s chest. She turned and looked past Cynna toward the door. “It’s stronger. Her pulse is definitely stronger.”
Nick’s gaze shifted that direction.
“I was afraid of that,” Maelea said. “The darkness in him is much greater than the last time I was at the colony.”
“What the hell is going on?” Nick asked, looking back at the auburn-haired woman, then glancing toward the queen, and finally the tall Argonaut. “You brought me all the way back here. Tell me what this is all about.”
“It’s about the soul mate curse,” the leader of the Argonauts said somewhere behind Cynna. “And how it’s affecting Isadora.”
Cynna nearly choked on her tongue. “Soul mate?” She looked from Nick to the queen and back again, her eyes growing wider. “She’s your soul mate?”
Holy hell. The queen of Argolea was his fucking soul mate?
Pressure pushed at every inch of her skin, making her lungs feel like they were about to explode. The Fates could not be that unfair. Life could not be that unfair. Of all the people in all the world for her to get involved with, it had to be the soul mate of the one person she hated with every fiber of her being?
She only just held back a pathetic laugh. If the situation weren’t so dire, she’d be rolling on the floor with laughter. But she couldn’t. Because this was her fucking fate.
Somewhere at the back of the room, someone chuckled. Followed by a whispered, “What’s so funny?” and an “I’ll tell you later.”
But Cynna couldn’t turn to see who’d spoken, because Nick’s attention finally shifted her way. And in his irritated amber gaze, she saw exactly what she’d expected. He’d forgotten she was even there. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Cynna’s heart—or what was left of it—felt like it shattered. Right there on the floor. She moved a step away and muttered, “Like hell we will.”
The queen finally lowered her hand from Nick’s chest and looked at her. “Who is this?”
Nick’s jaw clenched, and, oh yeah, he was pissed. Well, so was Cynna. So much so she wanted to slam her fist through a wall. Or someone’s face. Only she couldn’t seem to stop her damn hand from shaking.
“Cynna,” Nick said. “She was with me in Zagreus’s lair.”
“Cynna,” the guy near the desk whispered to the blonde at his side. “Isn’t that…?”
“Shh,” the blonde muttered, cutting him off.
The queen’s assessing gaze slid over Cynna, making the fine hairs along Cynna’s back stand to attention. But not even a flicker of
recognition passed through Isadora’s eyes.
Even though she was seething, even though she wanted to do nothing but run, Cynna breathed a little easier. The queen didn’t know who she was. She could get out of this if she kept her cool.
“She’s Argolean,” the queen said. “What was an Argolean female doing with Zagreus?”
Unfortunately, Cynna’s cool went right out the window with that question, and her temper raged back to the forefront. Oh no. They were not going through this again. She wasn’t about to sit back and let a single person—especially the queen of Argolea—make assumptions about her like she wasn’t even in the room.
She straightened her spine and opened her mouth to tell the queen just what she could do with her damn questions when the blonde who’d been standing near the desk stepped forward.
“I can see these guys were acting like cavemen again and didn’t even bother to give you time to get dressed before they dragged you here.” Cynna’s gaze snapped toward the blonde, who had a pleasant expression fixed across her pretty face. “How about you and I go find something for you to wear while they all gossip like schoolgirls?”
The fact Cynna was wearing nothing but Nick’s T-shirt hit her again, but she didn’t care. She didn’t need clothes to put these people in their places. She’d lived with Zagreus, for fuck’s sake. She could hold her own with the queen of Argolea and her stupid merry men. But before she could spout off as much, her brain kicked into gear, and she realized…this could be her way out of this nightmare.
She reined in her temper—even though it took every ounce of willpower she had—swallowed hard, and nodded once.
“Good,” the female said. “I’m Skyla. Come with me.”
Cynna took a step toward the door to follow the blonde, but Nick grasped her arm at the wrist before she could get too far away and drew her back. His amber gaze locked on hers, hard, steady, resolute. “Don’t go far. I’ll come find you in a few minutes. “
Just the fact he was finally looking at her sent that temper right back to bubbling. Two minutes ago, he’d forgotten she even existed.
She wrenched her arm from his grip. “Your fifteen minutes are up.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cynna tried to settle her raging temper as she turned to follow Skyla, only to realize there were more people in the room than she’d thought. Another woman had stepped in after her, one with fire-red hair who’d sidled up next to the guy in the back wearing gloves—the one she was pretty sure had been laughing. And two other males had also joined the fray, both clearly Argonauts and both as crazy handsome as the rest. Where the hell did they find these guys? Studs “R” Us?
Voices faded behind her as she followed Skyla back down the long corridor. When they reached the massive curved staircase, Skyla said, “We’re going up one level.”
Cynna took in every detail as they walked. The guards below in the foyer, the servants they passed, the posh surroundings and expensive furnishings. And every second she spent in this castle, surrounded by luxuries and more wealth than she could imagine, she remembered the small house she’d lived in with her parents before they’d died. The wood floor, the tiny bedrooms—one for them, and one for her—and the closet-size kitchen where she and her mother had prepared the meals. They hadn’t had much, but they’d been happy. Or so she’d thought. But how could anyone ever be content with that after being surrounded by all this?
“Here we are.” Skyla stopped in front of a large, arched door, turned the handle, and pushed with her hip.
Cynna followed her into the room, and once again, her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Racks and racks of clothing lined the walls. All different sizes, for all different genders and ages. Huge bins were lined up in rows in the middle, holding socks and shoes and undergarments.
Skyla moved toward a rack on the left and pawed through until she found a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved red T-shirt, then turned and handed them to Cynna. “These should fit. You’re about my size. Go ahead and grab some undergarments from the bins, and I’ll find you some boots. Don’t worry. Everything’s new.” She pointed toward a tall screen set up in front of the windows. “There’s a dressing area over there.”
Cynna grabbed what she needed from the bins and moved behind the screen. She tugged on the underwear, thankful that they fit, then reached for the jeans. “Must be nice to have a shopping mall in your own freakin’ house.”
“Yeah, it would be,” Skyla said from beyond the screen. “But these aren’t for the castle. They’re for a refugee camp outside the city.”
The queen actually cared about refugees? Cynna nearly scoffed as she buttoned the jeans and reached for the shirt.
“You know,” Skyla said, “I’ve heard of a female named Cynna who lives with Zagreus. She’s also known as the Mistress of Torture.”
Cynna’s arms froze, shirt over her head, and her pulse picked up speed. Swallowing hard, she pulled the garment on and tugged it down her hips. “What’s your point?”
“My point is simple. The others may assume you were just a prisoner, but I think we both know differently. I want to know what Zagreus’s right-hand female is doing with Nick.”
Cynna smoothed her hair back from her face, reminded herself to play it cool, and stepped out from behind the screen. “What are you, the queen’s personal spy?”
Skyla tipped her head. “Until recently, I spent a lot of time in the human realm dealing with Zagreus’s satyrs and the messes they created. The rest of the time I spent on Olympus, with Athena.”
Cynna’s gaze skipped over the blonde, and she realized what she’d missed earlier. The warrior stance, the calculating look in the female’s green eyes, and the coiled strength hidden beneath that attractive facade.
Skata. This changed things…quite a bit. While Cynna had no reservations about dueling with an Argonaut, she did not want to piss off Zeus. “You’re a Siren.”
“Was,” Skyla answered. “I recently left the order.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now answer my question. What the hell are you doing with Nick?”
She could lie, but at this point all Cynna wanted was out. And the fastest way to get out was to finish this conversation so she could split. “I helped him escape.”
“Why?”
“Because Zagreus was going to turn him over to Hades.”
“And you, what? Developed a conscience about that?”
Cynna’s temper inched up. “I didn’t want to see him in the hands of a god who could use his powers for evil against the whole world. So, yeah, I guess you could say I developed a conscience. I don’t think anyone wants that.”
“And Zagreus? He was just okay with you leaving?”
“No,” Cynna said, glancing over the racks of clothing, “I’m sure he was pretty pissed.” She looked back at the Siren. “I didn’t wait around to find out.”
Skyla studied her a long moment, and Cynna couldn’t tell if the female believed her or not, but she didn’t care anymore. For once she’d done the right thing and still she was being labeled a traitor.
“Look,” she said, working hard not to lose her cool with the Siren. “Not everything is as it seems. There are all kinds of prisons, and whether you want to believe it or not, I’m not the villain here.” Not anymore, at least.
Skyla’s jaw clenched. “What’s your relationship with Nick?”
This time Cynna couldn’t stop her stomach from pitching. Relationship? Did they even have a relationship? Captor-captive came to mind when she remembered their time together in Zagreus’s lair. Followed by lovers when her memories skipped to their hot, sweaty sex in the tunnels beneath the colony. But she dismissed both because neither were accurate pictures of what they were. The only thing that even remotely made sense was…
“Really fucked up,” Cynna finally answered.
Skyla stared at her, and as the seconds ticked by, Cynna’s anxiety inched up all over again.
Would the Siren try to imprison her? Was she going to take
her to the queen and tell her everything Cynna had just admitted? If that happened, she might never get out of this nightmare. Her gaze darted toward the windows that looked out over a courtyard, and that fight-or-flight response kicked in, only this time flight won out, big-time.
Skyla dropped her arms and pointed toward a pair of boots and a light jacket sitting on the ground near the screen. “Those are for you. Weather’s calling for snow, and I’m sure you don’t want to be caught in the cold. Let’s head back and see if they’re done gossiping.”
Relief pulsed through Cynna’s body. She reached for the boots and the jacket. “Um, is there a restroom somewhere I could use?”
That assessing look crossed Skyla’s features again, making Cynna think the Siren was on to her. But instead of calling her on it, the blonde pointed toward a door on the far side of the room. “Through there. Don’t be long.”
Cynna nodded. “I won’t.”
She closed the bathroom door and glanced around. It was mostly marble, as big as her whole house had been as a kid, and disgustingly fancy. But—thank the Fates—there was a window that looked out to the courtyard several stories below.
She quickly pulled on the boots and jacket, then flipped on the fan to drown out any noise. A silent prayer of thanks whipped through her when she found the window unlocked.
Pushing it up, she peered outside. There was no balcony. Nothing but a small ledge that ran the length of this wing. But that was all she needed. She climbed out, gripped the stone ledge above, and made her way down the side of the building.
And told herself she wasn’t ever looking back.
“This is freakin’ nuts.” Nick ran both hands through his hair and dropped them to his side, leveling a hard look at his brother.
Demetrius, leaning back against the desk in Isadora’s palatial office with a scowl on his hard face and his arms crossed over his massive chest, didn’t respond. In fact, since they’d arrived in Argolea, the guardian hadn’t said shit. Just stared at Nick like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to hug him or slam his fist into his face. Which only pissed Nick off even more. His brother wasn’t one for words, but the fact he wasn’t arguing against this asinine theory where his soul mate was concerned only kicked Nick’s anxiety up about the whole situation.