Not a Fate. His fate.
Or so something deep in his gut told him.
He wanted to find her, but good luck doing that right now in this state. Wherever Natasa had gone, he wasn’t following. And even if he could, he had a pretty strong hunch if he tried, Phin would haul his ass to Theron and tell the leader of the Argonauts that Titus had finally gone completely wacked.
Which probably wasn’t far off the mark.
His strength slowly returning, Titus eased back on his heels and braced his hands on his thighs.
Shit… Hearing voices was bad enough. He didn’t want the others to discover the true extent of his weakness. The fact they knew he didn’t like to be touched was more than he wanted to share. Argonauts couldn’t be weak. They were strong. They were warriors. They were heroes. Not fucked-up mental cases that could be dropped with a simple touch.
Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he swiped it away. Anxiety pushed at his chest for the second time that day, but this time not from missing something he shouldn’t be searching for, from fear of losing the only thing that truly mattered in his life. Serving with the Argonauts was the one thing keeping him sane. And it was high time he remembered that and stopped chasing a superhot wet dream that would only lead to more trouble he didn’t need.
“I’m fine.” Carefully, he rose to his feet, the lie coming easily to his lips—like always. But the disappointment lingered. And would, he knew, long after he’d gone back to his old, isolated life. “I picked up a thought from that servant who was causing a ruckus in the kitchen.”
“What kind of thought?” Phin’s brow wrinkled as he rose to his full height.
“A predatory one.”
When Phin continued to stare at him like he was hovering on the edge of ape-shit crazy, Titus frowned. “Theron told us to be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, right? With the Misos delegation visiting for the ceremony and the Council in the castle for the day, we need to stay alert. Nick still thinks the Council has a spy planted at the colony.”
Phin’s gaze raked his features, and Titus’s pulse picked up speed again. But whatever the guardian was thinking, this time he kept it carefully locked down. Which wasn’t exactly a good sign.
“Why’d you hit the floor like that?”
“I’ve been under the weather, dickhead.” Titus swiped at the sweat on his forehead again. “Why do you think I’ve been holed up in my room for days?”
“You should be better by now. Have you seen Callia lately?”
The last thing Titus needed was the queen’s personal healer worrying over him again. She was the only person who knew his secret, and he didn’t want to give her any reason not to keep her trap shut. “If I go running to Callia every time I have a little sniffle, Zander will get some crack idea we’re having an affair. And I don’t need Achilles’s I can’t be killed descendent on my ass, thank you very much.”
He didn’t give Phin time to answer, simply moved past the guardian. And this time made sure to intentionally brush his shoulder against Phin’s to kill whatever lingering doubt remained.
Thank the Fates for clothing and armor that prevents the transfer. “We need to stop dicking around and get out there. Weren’t you the one saying they were ready to start?”
Phin’s boots echoed in the corridor at Titus’s back. “You sure you’re up for it?”
No, he wasn’t up for hours of schmoozing with the Council and the colonists and celebrating Atalanta’s death with his guardian brothers. He wanted to find the redhead. But that was a dream he was going to have to let die. For good.
“Let’s just go get this over with.” He pushed the door to the kitchen open once more. “And stop looking at me like I’m a two-headed dragon about to charbroil you, you putz.”
Phineus didn’t laugh at Titus’s crappy joke. Instead, his unspoken thought reached Titus’s ears. A thought that, at least, took Titus’s mind off his own fucked-up issues.
“No, that would be the other way around, smartass.”
* * *
Perspiration slicked Natasa’s skin as she dropped with a soft thud onto the balcony of what she hoped was Maelea’s room.
Straightening, she brushed the unruly curls away from her face. She’d ditched the wig and servant’s uniform on an upper floor before climbing down the outside of the castle, thankful to be wearing the easy-moving black pants and fitted top again. The twenty-first century might overwhelm the sense with its abundance of technology, but she definitely liked the clothes.
She took a long, deep draw of late May air then let it out slowly. Yeah, okay, so it wasn’t exactly great timing to be doing this, when the castle was abuzz with activity, but she didn’t have much choice. She was running out of time, and Maelea was nearly her last hope. If the female couldn’t help her…
She lifted a hand to knock on the french doors, and her thoughts strayed to the Argonaut who’d almost caught her in the kitchen. Her hand paused in the air. Sweat slid down her spine. Her pulse thrummed again.
What was it about him that called to her? It was more than his good looks, more than his warrior status and even the strength she sensed within. There was something there, something a place deep inside her wanted to explore. Something that drew her toward him like a parched traveler to an oasis.
A frown pulled at her mouth. A parched traveler? The analogy had never been more appropriate. And she didn’t have time to waste thinking about it.
She tapped gently on the glass doors and squared her shoulders. Seconds ticked by in silence, seconds in which she held her breath and prayed this was it. Footsteps echoed across the floor. Then the doors pulled open wide, and an attractive female filled Natasa’s line of sight.
The female’s brow lowered. Natasa could all but see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to make the connection. Too bad she wouldn’t find it.
Natasa stepped into the room and closed the doors quickly at her back.
“Who are you?” The female moved away, the pale yellow gown with the wide neckline and A-lined skirt rustling with her frantic steps. “How did you get here?”
Her hair was dark, falling like black silk down her back, her features pale. She was roughly the same height as Natasa, but where Natasa was curves and muscle, she was thin and frail. And the commanding tone she tried to take fell completely flat.
Natasa’s gaze skipped past the female, and she scanned the room. She had the vague impression of plush furnishing, soaring ceilings, and a giant bed, but thankfully, they were alone.
Her focus homed in on the female she’d been searching for for the last month. “You are Maelea, correct? Daughter of Zeus and Persephone?”
Maelea took another step back, her dark eyes growing wider by the second. “Are you a Siren?” Her spine hit a chair in front of an elaborate stone fireplace. “Did my father send you?”
The Sirens were Zeus’s female warriors who did his dirty work and covered up the evidence. While Natasa could see how Maelea would assume the worst, the correlation burned a place deep inside. “No. And I’m not here to harm you either. I just want information.”
“Information,” Maelea said hesitantly, her fingers gripping the edge of the chair at her back, as if it could protect her in some way. “I have none.”
“I’m looking for Prometheus.”
“The Titan? Why?”
“Personal reasons.” And reasons Natasa wasn’t about to share with this female. “You’re Zeus’s daughter. Even if he didn’t tell you where he chained”—she pursed her lips, catching herself from giving too much away—“him, he might have told you something that will be of help to me.”
Maelea considered a moment. “My father and I are not exactly on speaking terms. If you’re otherworldy, and you know who I am, then you know that as well.”
Natasa did know that, but she’d hoped. Panic forced a fresh layer of perspiration all across her skin. “Think, Maelea. Any minute detail may be of use to me.”
“Why is it o
f such importance you find him now? Zeus imprisoned Prometheus millennia ago.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why now?”
Because she was running out of time. And because if she failed…
No, she wouldn’t think like that. Even if Prometheus didn’t know the consequences to what he’d created, she did. She lived it every day.
“Who else might know? Can you think of anyone your father could have confided in?”
“This is important to you.”
The words were a statement, not a question, and as Natasa’s gaze focused on Maelea’s dark-as-night eyes, she noticed that the female didn’t seem scared anymore, rather…intrigued. “More important than you could ever imagine.”
Maelea stepped away from the chair. Electricity crackled in the air. Legend said Zeus’s bastard daughter had the power to sense energy shifts on earth. Could she in Argolea as well? Did she know who Natasa really was? And would she alert the Argonauts—alert Titus—to her presence?
“I wish I could help you,” Maelea said, stopping a foot away, “but I can’t. I don’t know anything about Prometheus’s imprisonment. I’ve not had contact with anyone from Olympus except my father, and that was only days ago. And our conversation was brief, if that. There was no mention of Prometheus or where he’s bound.”
The air leaked out of Natasa’s lungs. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d been banking on Maelea knowing something—anything—that would help her until this very moment. Months she’d wasted trying to find the female, when what she should have been doing was chasing a different lead.
Dammit, she was back to square one, with no idea where to look next and only this blasted heat to keep her company. She swiped at the sweat on her brow.
No, that wasn’t true. She was back further than step one, because the end date was rushing up faster than even she’d anticipated.
“There are Titans in the human realm,” Maelea said softly. “Those who didn’t side with Krónos in the Titanomachy. Ones in hiding amongst humans. Have you tried them? Epimetheus, maybe? Prometheus’s brother? It’s possible he knows something.”
Natasa huffed. “I already spoke with him. He’s the one who suggested I find you. Epimetheus is a fool. Talking to him is as productive as talking to a wall.”
Maelea’s lips turned down. “Yes, I’ve heard that about him. But perhaps he knows more than he’s letting on. Is there a reason he doesn’t want you to find Prometheus?”
Oh yeah, there was. Because Epimetheus knew exactly what she was.
Her mind spun. And connections she hadn’t made before clicked into place. Natasa lifted her gaze back to Maelea. “Has Epimetheus ever sided with Zeus?”
Maelea’s brow wrinkled. “Not that I’m aware. But anything’s possible, I suppose. Why? What are you thinking?”
What was she thinking? She was suddenly thinking Epimetheus had sent her after Maelea, knowing she’d fail. The question was…why?
There was only one place to find out.
She turned for the door. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Wait—”
Maelea reached for her, but Natasa moved onto the veranda and closed the double doors before the female could stop her. She climbed over the railing and dropped down to the balcony below, landing with a soft thud on her boots. Then she waited, listening to see if anyone moved in the room beyond.
Nothing but silence met her ears. But from the balcony above, a male voice rang out. “Sotiria? They’re ready for us.”
“Gryphon,” Maelea breathed.
Gryphon… He was an Argonaut. Natasa had heard that name back at the half-breed colony. She knew she should get inside before Maelea sent someone to look for her, but her curiosity got the best of her, and she waited, wanting to know if Maelea knew more than she’d let on too.
Fabric rustled, followed by soft murmurs and the distinct sound of kissing. And as she listened, a low ache built in Natasa’s chest. When was the last time someone had hugged her? Kissed her? When was the last time she’d wanted someone’s touch like that?
Warmth spread up her chest as she thought back to those few moments with Titus at the colony. Moments she’d foolishly relived in her mind a hundred times since.
“What’s wrong?” Gryphon asked above.
“I’m fine,” Maelea answered. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…I had an interesting visitor.”
“Who?” The concern in the Argonaut’s voice jolted Natasa out of her melancholy and brought her focus back to the conversation above.
“I don’t really know. She wasn’t Argolean, but she was definitely otherworldy.”
“She?” Concern gave way to suspicion. “What did she want?”
“To know if I had information about where my father is holding Prometheus.”
Silence. Then, “Prometheus? Why?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Was she looking for the Orb?”
“It’s a possibility, considering Prometheus crafted the Orb, but no, I don’t think that was her goal. She didn’t mention anything about it and I had the sense whatever she wanted from him was much more personal. I don’t know why, but…”
“But what?”
Natasa held her breath.
“I sensed a very strong power within her. One not rooted completely in darkness but not bathed in light either. I can’t put my finger on what it was, but my senses tell me whatever it is, it’s on the verge of being released.”
Shit.
“Skata,” the Argonaut muttered. “That kind of power anywhere near the Orb is not a good thing.”
“I know,” Maelea whispered.
So the Orb really was in Argolea. That explained why Natasa felt different here than she had in the human realm. And why she had such an uncontrollable urge to stay.
“We need to share this with Theron and the others before we head downstairs to the celebration,” Gryphon said above. “Come on.”
The others.
The Argonauts. Including Titus.
Natasa’s pulse thumped faster. She pushed away from the wall and turned for the door she hoped was unlocked. Inside the room—another bedroom suite—she scanned the empty space, her mind already thinking ten steps ahead. To what she needed to do next. To the moment she was out of this castle and heading for the portal that would take her back to the human realm.
To where she would go after that.
Because, no matter what, she wasn’t giving up.
* * *
“You’re sure about this?” Theron asked.
Isadora stood beside Theron’s desk in what used to be her father’s office but was now the center for Argonaut business, arms crossed over her growing belly, listening to what Maelea and Gryphon had come to tell them.
The leader of the Argonauts looked less than thrilled with the news, and Isadora knew why. If this mysterious guest Maelea had encountered in the castle was the same female who’d shown up at the colony days ago, it meant things were heating up, not cooling down as they’d hoped.
Of course, the Fate had warned them after Atalanta’s death that they’d won the battle, not the war, and Isadora didn’t doubt for a minute that the gods were plotting a way into Argolea so they could get their hands on the Orb. She just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Especially not now, when she should be out on the balcony overlooking the city of Tiyrns, presenting Maelea to the Argolean people.
“I’m not certain of anything,” Maelea answered. “I can only tell you what I felt. There’s more power in her than I’ve sensed in a very long time, from any one person who wasn’t a god.”
Theron glanced toward Isadora. “What do you think?”
Isadora chewed her lip. He’d told her of his suspicions and why he’d advised this Natasa to leave the colony and never return. “It sounds like the same girl. But how did she get here?”
“A delegation of Misos came across with Nick,” Demetrius said from the couch behind Maelea. “Could she have come with them?”
The babe in Isadora?
??s belly kicked out at the sound of Demetrius’s voice, as if he too took comfort in the guardian’s presence, and Isadora looked past Maelea and Gryphon toward her mate. Two more months until their son would be born. And hopefully then the permanent worry she saw in Demetrius’s eyes would dim when he realized everything was going to be okay.
She smoothed a hand down her belly to ease both herself and the little one. “I guess she could have. She was at the Misos Colony long enough undetected. The question is, why risk coming all the way to Argolea? And why now? Nick’s downstairs. I think we should include him in this discussion.”
Demetrius pushed his big body off the couch. “I’ll find him.”
He reached for Isadora’s hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze before heading to the door. And Isadora released a breath of relief as he left. Demetrius’s public displays of affection came easier these days, but the fact he had willingly volunteered to seek out his twin, with whom he’d never had any relationship other than fierce animosity, was the best sign of all.
“Send Titus up here if you see him,” Theron said to Demetrius.
Demetrius nodded and left. When he was gone, Isadora turned her attention back to Theron. “Tell them what you told me.”
On a sigh, Theron rubbed his fingers against his forehead and leaned back in his chair. “When Titus found this female in your room at the colony, Maelea, she was holding a small book. More like a journal. Detailing the lineage of the gods.”
With a confused expression, Maelea glanced toward Gryphon at her side, then back to Theron. “If she was looking for me, that makes sense, since Zeus and Persephone are my parents.”
“Right,” Theron answered, dropping his hand. “But the pages marked in her little book weren’t yours. And they weren’t Prometheus’s.”
“What pages were marked?” Gryphon asked.
“The ones related to Zagreus. Hades’s son.”
Gryphon reached for Maelea’s hand, and Isadora’s own stomach tightened at the fear and hatred she saw flash in his eyes. All the Argonauts knew what a loose cannon Zagreus was. Hades had unleashed his son on the human realm years ago, and though he had a reputation for being as vile and twisted as his father, since he didn’t seem to focus on humans and he generally kept his little world of torture to himself, they left him alone. Going after Zagreus meant starting a war with Hades himself, but now it looked like that might be inevitable.