“Because you don’t pay attention to stories,” she chided. “You never have.”
“They’re not real.” He was dismissive, just as he’d always been. “I’m interested in truth.”
Petra folded her arms across her chest. “So, you’ve given up on prophecies?”
Damien inhaled sharply and she saw that he wanted to take a step back. His trepidation made her angry with him again. “Stories are as real as you and me,” she informed him. “Or do you prefer to think of every kind other than the Pyr as just stories?”
Damien grimaced, which she could have anticipated, then avoided the question, which was even less of a surprise. He bent to press the flat of his hand against his wound, as if he’d close it by sheer willpower. “I always hated snakes,” he muttered.
Petra refused to feel sorry for him.
At least, she refused to give any sign that she felt sorry for him.
“Then you should leave. This place is thick with them.”
He glanced up. “Why are there so many?”
“Darkness, the underworld, lost secrets and hidden desires. It’s all the business of snakes.”
He almost smiled and Petra was shocked by how alluring she found him. “And I’d know that from listening to stories.” His words were low, teasing, in the same tone he’d always used in bed. He looked up, a glint in his eyes, and if Petra could have blushed, she was sure she would have.
“Just because they’re stories doesn’t mean they don’t contain facts,” she said as she’d said a hundred times to him before. She was startled when Damien said the same words simultaneously. She loved the sound of his voice mixing with hers and was impatient with herself for being so easily seduced.
Maybe he had learned something.
But he’d left her once he’d discovered what she was.
“That’s how I know it,” she said, her voice harder than she’d intended. “But there are thousands of them here. Run now, while you can.”
Damien straightened, leaning closer to her. She could almost feel his gaze boring into her mind. “Is that what you think I did before? Run away?”
Petra held his gaze unflinchingly, letting him see that she did think that.
Damien raised a finger. “This time, I’m not leaving without my son.” He cast a glance back at Charon, who still waited. “Where is he? The ferryman won’t wait forever.”
His determination was familiar, as was the resolve in his eyes. Damien always achieved his goals and never expected any woman to deny him.
But his words were unwelcome. Just as Petra had feared, she’d only been useful to him. He only cared about his son. Anger burned hot in her chest and she enjoyed the fact that she could shock him in turn.
“Sadly for you, he and I are eternally together.” Petra stepped away from the pillar, revealing her figure to Damien.
His gaze fell to her round belly. “But you’re pregnant!”
Petra gave him a skeptical look. “You did have a part in that.”
“But...” He was at a complete loss for words, and Petra realized she’d never seen him so confused.
She wouldn’t feel compassion for him.
She’d savor the sight of his plan failing to come together.
“I was pregnant when you left,” she reminded him more gently than she knew he deserved. “Not quite this far along, but still visibly pregnant.”
He swallowed and frowned, his agitation clear. His reaction undermined her determination to despise him. “But you shouldn’t have been on the ferry while you were pregnant. You were going to go home after our son was born.”
“I changed my mind.” Petra waited, hoping for some sweet confession and knowing she shouldn’t believe it if it came.
“I thought...” His voice faded. Damien looked at her, then back at Charon. When he turned to face her, his expression was set. Petra knew he’d decided something, but wasn’t prepared for him to snatch her off her feet.
“What are you doing?” she cried. She struggled, as much against his grip as her own unwelcome reaction.
“I’m saving my son!” Damien lifted her in his arms with both care and firmness, then began to march back toward the waiting ferry. Charon watched, silent and still.
“Idiot!” Petra said as she twisted in his arms. “That’s impossible.”
“Doesn’t seem to be impossible. We’re doing it.”
“Your son’s as dead as I am. Neither one of us can leave.”
“Are you going to tell me to listen to stories?” Damien taunted. “How about Eurydice and Orpheus?”
“He looked back at her at the gates and lost her forever,” Petra snapped. “Although why you should feel any common ground with a man with no control over his desires, I can’t begin to guess.”
“You liked it once when I had no control over my desires.”
“That was before I was dead.”
Damien grunted as she squirmed, but still easily kept his hold on her. “What about Persephone?”
“She’s stuck here for a third of each year. That’s not an escape.” Petra knew he was hampered by his determination not to hurt her, but she had no such constraint.
“Hercules.”
“Please. Don’t compare yourself to epic heroes. They weren’t doomed to failure.”
Damien chuckled, surprising her. He looked like a daring renegade, the same one who had stolen her heart away. “The only way to know for sure is to try.”
“Not all the rules change just because you want them to.”
“You’re coming with me. We’ll argue about it later.”
“Because your son is in my womb, and you can’t take him without me?” Petra demanded. “Is that the only reason you’re taking me along? You thought you’d just come and get him, but leave me here, didn’t you?”
There was a beat of silence, which told Petra all she needed to know.
She was just as foolish as she’d been the first time she’d met Damien.
But that had just changed.
Chapter Two
Petra fought harder. Knowing the truth of his intentions meant she had no intention of going with Damien at all. “And what happens if we do get out of here?” she demanded. “What happens after our son is born? You’ll just abandon me again? I don’t think so!”
“He’s my son!” Damien protested.
“And mine!”
“But...”
Petra was so angry that she kicked Damien hard, right in the wound the hellhound had just given him. He roared in pain, stumbled, and his grip loosened enough for her to get her feet on the ground again.
Miserable, self-centered dragon!
Petra regained her balance quickly and kicked Damien harder, in exactly the same spot. He paled in pain as he fell to one knee, then she decked him. Damien swore as he fell back, even though Petra knew she hadn’t hurt him that much.
“You want your son? Then come and get him!” Petra spun and ran into the shadowy depths of the underworld. She was livid, but ran as fast as she could, wanting only to leave as much distance as possible between herself and the infuriating, sexy father of her child.
Oh, she hadn’t called Damien nearly enough names when he’d left her before. He was selfish, he was conceited, he was insensitive and indifferent to the desires of others, he was...
“Petra!” Damien roared from the gates.
She didn’t waste time looking back but kept running. Damien was taller, faster and he wasn’t nine months pregnant. He was also a dragon shape shifter. It was inevitable that he’d catch her, possibly also inevitable that he’d win his way, but she wanted to make him work as hard as possible for his victory.
Maybe she was getting even.
Or maybe she was the one who didn’t believe, now.
“No!” Damien bellowed suddenly. The dismay in his voice convinced Petra to look back. She laughed to see that Damien’s plan was falling apart before his eyes. Charon was calmly plying his pole to guide his ferry back across t
he river. He was already too far from the shore for Damien to jump and the River Acheron ran darkly between them. Damien stood on the bank and shook his fist at the departing boat.
“I paid you to wait!” he bellowed, but the ferryman continued on his way, deaf to Damien’s cries. Petra felt a twinge of sympathy when Damien’s shoulders sagged.
She knew her dragon would never accept defeat easily. He always mustered his resolve for another foray.
Which was why it had been so devastating when he’d left her forever.
Again, she expected the pale blue glow that announced his intention to shift, and again, she didn’t see it. Petra felt a whisper of concern.
Was something wrong?
Damien pivoted to glare into the underworld, his eyes blazing with fury. “This is your fault,” he said, flinging out his hands in frustration. “You could have just come along. You could have just cooperated, but every single thing has to be an argument.”
“You mean I could have trusted you. Again.” Petra spoke quietly, knowing Damien’s keen senses would allow him to hear her, even at such a distance. “Too bad your firestorm wasn’t with a stupid woman.”
Damien’s eyes flashed. He strode toward the gates, resolve giving him new power. Petra felt a thrill of anticipation. When they’d argued like this while alive, they’d made up with equal passion. She wondered whether he intended to win her agreement with a kiss and couldn’t wait for him to try. She stood her ground, telling herself that Damien’s kiss wouldn’t be half as marvelous as she remembered.
But she was going to find out.
As Damien approached the gates, Cerberus stirred, one head rousing to yawn.
Petra saw the dog sniff the air.
She heard it growl at Damien.
Damien growled back.
Petra turned to run, telling herself she didn’t want to see whatever happened next. She heard Damien swear, then the dog yelp. When she looked back, Damien had plunged under the gates of the underworld to pursue her and was closing fast. Cerberus stood on the other side, barking after Damien with all teeth bared.
The hellhound wouldn’t let anyone pass through the gates to return to the River Acheron and the world above. That was forbidden and the injunction even applied to Damien.
It was possible he didn’t realize as much, or that he was just focused on the moment, because Damien seemed untroubled. Petra knew he had no shortage of confidence. It took a brave man to walk into the underworld when he wasn’t dead, and a braver one to imagine he might be able to leave alive whenever he wished to do so.
Damien looked furious. His eyes were blazing and his muscles were pumping. He was all male and so gorgeous that Petra almost wished to be caught and kissed into submission.
Instead, she ran. Would she spend eternity trying to outrun Damien? The realm of the underworld was nearly endless. She could lead him across its vast wastelands for untold ages.
Except, of course, that Damien was mortal. Even he would fade without food and water. And if he consumed anything in this realm, he’d be trapped here as surely as if he were dead.
That bothered Petra more than she knew it should.
A glimmer of blue-green light crackled along the deadened ground, drawing up alongside her then racing ahead. Petra couldn’t make sense of it, but she didn’t have time to think about it. She spared a backward glance to find Damien closing fast, his expression murderous. She stumbled over something and looked forward again just as blue-green brilliance flared. It lit into an orb of light so bright that she had to close her eyes against it. It appeared so abruptly that she couldn’t keep from running straight into its glow.
Then her footsteps faltered to a halt as she stared in wonder.
Because Petra was abruptly surrounded by the past and filled with the ache of all they’d lost.
* * *
Trust Petra to be unpredictable and uncooperative.
Trust Petra to start an argument instead of helping them both to escape.
This quest should have been easy. Damien should have been able to fetch his son, return to the ferry and have Charon take him back to the side of the river that touched the land of the living. It should have been quick and relatively painless. He should have been heading back into the world he knew, his son safely with him, but nothing with Petra ever went as planned.
She’d always defied expectation—in fact, that had been one of the things Damien had once admired about her. She challenged him and surprised him, as no one else had ever done. She was fearless and defiant, and completely captivating. Their relationship had been fiery from the start, filled with arguments and passion, filled with battles of words that ended in ferocious lovemaking. He’d felt so alive with her, so embroiled in a constant battle of wits and challenges.
Challenge was the right word for Petra.
Look at their firestorm. He’d planned to fulfill it, conceive their son, and leave again. She’d been agreeable, even wanting to experience it. Instead, he’d stayed one day, then another, until he’d been with her for three months. It was only because he finally had left, to make a quick trip to Delphi, that he’d learned the truth about her and been able to leave for good.
The strange thing was that he knew he should be furious with her, but Damien felt invigorated. He was startled to realize how glad he’d been to feel that old flame leap to life between them. He’d missed Petra, even knowing how dangerous she was. Maybe that was part of the reason she intrigued him. Either way, he wasn’t nearly ready to step away from her again.
That should have worried him more than it did.
Damien had to wonder if she was the one who had ensured he couldn’t shift shape to fight Cerberus. It would have been like her to want him in her debt for something.
Maybe that was why she’d enchanted the hellhound, so Damien would owe her.
What did she want in exchange? It was a question that only Petra would be able to answer.
Except that she was running away from him.
Damien couldn’t believe that his son hadn’t been born before Petra had drowned, but the evidence was unmistakable. That made his mission more complicated, and he wondered if she’d planned it that way in advance. It seemed a bad time to acknowledge that he had no clear idea of her powers. Had she seen the future? Guessed where and how they’d meet again? He had a thousand questions, but Petra was clearly disinclined to explain herself. Why hadn’t she waited for their son to be born? It had been irresponsible for her to undertake such a journey so close to her time, and he felt angry with her for her choice.
An unwelcome voice in his thoughts reminded him of his own lack of responsibility, but that had been different. He couldn’t have stayed with Petra, not once he’d learned the truth about her.
Not once he’d known that she could kill him at any time.
He would have gone back for his son sooner, if he and his fellows hadn’t been cast across the centuries.
And now Charon had forgotten his bargain and had headed back to the far shore. Damien doubted there would be a refund or a credit on the extra fare he’d paid. Petra was running like the wind, running faster than he could have imagined a woman in her state would be able to run. It would have been simple to catch her if he’d been able to shift shape, but no amount of effort seemed able to rouse the dragon within. Damien pursued her, realizing as they moved deeper into this strange territory that the underworld wasn’t a place he wanted to explore alone—much less a place he wanted to remain.
But Petra had been trapped here. He felt a pang of sympathy for her.
In fact, the first sight of her, round with his son, had shaken him. She’d always been lovely and had always had lush curves. But pregnancy had ripened her in a way that made Damien remember very well all the pleasure they’d had creating that son. The strange blue-green light of the darkfire had flattered her in a way he hadn’t expected, drawing him closer, making him want to caress and seduce her all over again.
He saw the darkfire crack
le along the ground ahead of him, illuminating this dark and dreary realm. It flared up suddenly in front of Petra, almost like an explosion. He shouted a warning but she didn’t stop. Damien tried to run faster even as she stepped right into the brilliance and disappeared.
Damien cried her name in horror. He feared the worst, although when he thought about it, he couldn’t think of what would be worse for her than being dead. He passed into the light of the darkfire, feeling a shiver pass over his flesh at its cold touch.
And then, he was surrounded by the past.
Damien had just stepped into a tavern, taking shelter from the night along with Orion. The cool of a winter evening was at his back. Inside the tavern was a crowd of people, laughter and food.
And music.
The music had drawn them, turning their steps in this direction like a spell of enchantment. Now, surrounded by the glow of candlelight, Damien stood in silence and stared.
A gorgeous woman played the lyre in the middle of the tavern, to the obvious delight of the people listening. She evidently played a familiar song, for they all knew the words and sang along. A plump man who had to be the proprietor stood by the door to the kitchen, smiling with satisfaction.
Orion heaved a sigh of satisfaction. “Finally, a decent meal and some good company.”
“I’m not such bad company as that,” Damien retorted and Orion grinned.
“You could be the most beautiful woman in the world, and after a month in your company alone, I’d still be ready for a change.”
Damien laughed, unable to be insulted. “That’s the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said, gesturing to the musician. “It would take more than a month for me to tire of her companionship.”
Orion might have replied in kind, but as Damien gestured, a spark lit at the end of his finger. The brilliant orange light flared, arching across the room to land on the musician’s parted lips.
She gasped in wonder.
She considered him.
Then her eyes lit and she smiled.