Enslaved

  “I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it. And I’ll have you know I left it tied to a dock on the other side of the lake in pristine condition along with a note apologizing for the owner’s inconvenience. Then I stole a car.”

  His laughter echoed all through her torso, and she found herself smiling all over again. “My woman, the thief. No wonder Orpheus likes you.”

  Her pulse sped up at his words. My woman. She wasn’t his woman. Didn’t think she ever could be. But hearing him say it… It touched her in a way she hadn’t expected.

  He hugged her tighter as they sat in the sand looking out over the moonlit water. “Why aren’t you with someone? Why are you alone? Why hasn’t some male snatched you up already?”

  The questions caught her off guard. “You know why I’m alone.”

  “Because you’re hiding from Hades? You can hide with someone. You don’t have to hide alone.”

  “I haven’t always been alone. When I was younger—much younger—I didn’t particularly like being alone. But I learned early on that relationships with humans lead to nothing but heartbreak. Their lives only last a maximum of a hundred years, and mine…well, my existence is ageless, so long as I don’t do anything to draw attention and get myself killed.”

  “Were you ever in love?” he asked quietly.

  She thought back. Remembered the joy. And the pain. The heartbreak lingered longer than the love. Funny that now it was all she could really remember. “Three times. The first was a Spartan warrior. That was dumb. He died before we’d really even gotten to know each other. But he was kind and gentle, and back then I had delusions that a warrior could take on a god. I was wrong.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she went on. “The second was many years later. I was older, thought I was wiser and more prepared. He was a gladiator who’d won his freedom, and he was as sick of war and fighting as I was. We had a small house on the coast in Spain. He only lived to be about sixty. Died in his sleep.”

  Theodosius. That had been his name. His gentle face flashed in her mind. It had been so long ago, it was as if all the love and pain and heartbreak had happened to someone else.

  She drew in a breath. “And the last…well, it was over a thousand years later. He was a Spanish explorer. Let me sail with him. That’s how I ended up in the new world. Liked it so much I stayed. But he died of malaria.” Her heart pinched at the memory. “Since then… Well, since then, let’s just say it’s just been easier to keep to myself. Safer, too.”

  His arms tightened around her. “What about half-breeds? Their life spans are longer. As long as Argoleans. And there are Titans living in the human realm.”

  She nearly laughed. “Half-breeds? Are you serious? The ones at the colony looked at me like I’m a freak. No, someone who knows Hades’s fury definitely wouldn’t want to be with me. As for Titans…that would be like condemning myself to this realm forever. If Zeus ever found out I shacked up with a Titan, he’d make sure I never got to Olympus.”

  “I guess I can see your point. Still…you shouldn’t have to be alone.”

  Just the fact he cared touched her heart. “I’m used to being alone, Gryphon. I’ve been alone a long time. Love is nice, but it’s fleeting. I know for a fact it doesn’t last. Heartache and pain? They last. They’re the only things that endure.”

  He turned her hand over. Pushed her sleeve up and ran his fingers down the scars on the inside of her forearm. “And what about these?” he asked quietly. “Do these last?”

  She drew in a breath and held it. She knew he’d seen her scars, but part of her had hoped he wouldn’t bring it up. She knew now she’d been foolish to think that.

  “They…” Unease rippled through her. “No one hurt me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  He ran his fingers over the thin lines again, and she fought the urge to pull her arm back. “Then how did you get them?”

  “I…I went through a phase.”

  “A phase?”

  She cringed. “Yeah. A phase. It was stupid. But after Theodosius died—he was the gladiator—I wasn’t coping well. I can’t explain what it’s like to be ageless to you. To watch the ones you love die. To remain when they’re gone. I was alive, but I felt dead inside. And then one day I accidentally cut myself in the kitchen, and for the first time in months I felt something. It was pain, but even pain was better than feeling dead. And it was freeing.” She looked down at her feet in the sand, knew he’d never understand this. “So yeah, I went through a phase. Every time I felt dead inside, the pain reminded me I was still alive.”

  “So you still…are you still in that phase?”

  “No,” she said on a breath. “It was hundreds of years ago. Anytime I feel dead inside now, I just look at the scars and I remember. It’s enough. Learning to keep to myself helped tremendously, too. If you don’t put yourself out there, you can’t get hurt.” She tried to add some humor into her voice, because this was getting way too serious. “Plus I was never very good with a knife—as you know from seeing me wield a weapon. I was too afraid I was going to kill myself to do any real damage.”

  He didn’t chuckle. In fact, he was silent so long, she wondered if she’d creeped him out. Then he said, “When Zander lost Callia, it nearly killed him. He lost the will to live. I can’t imagine what that was like for you, not once, but three times.”

  Surprise registered. That he understood. And his reaction tightened her heart. “It was lonely.” And so very painful. So painful she didn’t want to repeat it if she didn’t have to. But something told her she was already on the road to love and might already be too far gone to stop it. She swallowed hard. Tried not to think of that. “But I adapted. Now I have these ugly scars to remind me about the price of love.”

  His fingertips brushed her scars again, and warmth curled through her skin under his touch, shot straight to her heart. “They’re not ugly. Nothing about you is ugly. And not all love has to be painful.”

  Her chest pinched down tight. Gods, if he kept up the sympathy and understanding, she’d fall head over heels in love with him before the moon set.

  Water lapped at the shore as they sat in silence. She didn’t know what to say. And then a thought occurred. One she knew she probably shouldn’t ask but suddenly needed to know. “Have you ever been in love?”

  He was silent so long, she knew the answer had to be yes. Knew he was likely thinking of some other female right now. And the knowledge of that…it depressed her.

  “No,” he finally said. “Never before.”

  Her pulse picked up speed. And if it was possible for her heart to skip, it did. She tried not to read too much into his words. Knew it would only lead her to more pain and heartache down the line, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  Never before.

  She had been in love. She hadn’t lied. But it had never been like this. Never as fast. Never as all-consuming. Never as deep. And now she knew why. Because none of the humans she’d loved had been Gryphon. None had understood her the way he did. None could.

  Her heart beat hard against her ribs. Would she stay with him if she could? Would she sacrifice Olympus for him? She didn’t know. She only knew that, right now, she wanted him. Wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone else, ever before.

  He pressed his lips to her neck, then to her ear. And shivers of delight rushed over her skin wherever he touched. “I’m getting cold out here,” he whispered.

  “You are?”

  “Mm-hmm. Was wondering if maybe you’d like to take me inside and warm me up. I saw a claw-foot tub in your bathroom.”

  Relief and desire rushed through her. He still wanted her. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, offering more of her neck. “You did, huh?”

  “Big enough for two, I’m almost certain.”

  Heat spread between her legs when he nip
ped at her earlobe. “It’s only ever held one before.”

  His hands slid up her rib cage to cup her breasts. And shards of arousal ricocheted through her veins at the intimate touch. She tipped her head to the side and glanced over her shoulder so she could see his tantalizing mouth.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he said with a wicked turn of his lips. “Because I don’t want to think about anyone else doing to you what I’m about to do to you in that tub.”

  Fire exploded in her veins.

  Neither did she. She just wanted to think about him. She wrapped her hand around the back of his head and dragged his mouth toward hers.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Titus waited for traffic to clear on the small Coeur d’Alene street, then crossed the road and ducked into the Internet café. The few humans scattered throughout the space cast curious expressions his way, but he ignored them and moved toward Skyla and Orpheus at a table in the back.

  They both looked up from the computer they were using. “Well?” Skyla asked.

  Titus pulled up a chair at the Siren’s side and looked past her to Orpheus, whose thoughts screamed, What the hell are you waiting for? “Got it. It’s an Idaho license plate.”

  He recited the numbers for Skyla, who quickly typed them into the search engine for the Idaho Division of Motor Vehicles, which she’d hacked into. After tracking the truck Gryphon had stolen in Montana here to Coeur d’Alene, they’d run into a wall. Titus had spent all morning hanging out around the police station, trying to pick up any tidbits about the stolen vehicle, and had finally struck gold.

  “The truck was found abandoned on a side road near the water. A sailboat was missing. Cops found it all the way across the lake.”

  “Are we sure it was them?” Orpheus asked.

  Titus looked around the café, then lowered his voice. “There was no damage to the inside of the boat, but cops found a bloody towel onboard. Blood of an ‘unknown origin.’ Matched bloody rags they found in the truck. It was all the talk—and thoughts—at the station.”

  “That’s Gryphon,” Orpheus breathed.

  Titus agreed. And no damage meant it couldn’t be daemon blood. Argonaut blood, while partly human, contained unidentified alleles, and couldn’t easily be tracked.

  “Here it is,” Skyla said. “Black, 2010 Nissan Pathfinder.”

  “It was stolen from the marina where the boat ended up,” Titus told them while Skyla jotted the info on a piece of paper. “And get this. There was a note left on board. Apologizing for borrowing the vessel.”

  “Oh, that’s so Maelea,” Skyla said as she looked up. “Which is good,” she added, glancing toward Orpheus. “It means she’s still alive.”

  “For now,” Orpheus said with a frown.

  Titus rubbed his forehead. “This would be a helluva lot easier if Gryphon were wearing his damn Argos medallion. We could track that.” He gestured toward the computer screen. “We’ve got the make and model but no fucking clue which way they’re headed.”

  Skyla leaned back, crossed her arms, and stared at the computer screen. “I say we focus on Maelea. If she’s still alive—which she is,” she added, glancing toward Orpheus again—“then my guess is, Gryphon’s likely keeping her alive for a reason. She lived in the Seattle area for over a hundred years, right? Orpheus, you saw that huge house she had. The woman has money. Hell, she’s been alive for three thousand years, she’s probably got money coming out her ears. It’s highly likely she’s got more residences than just that one.”

  “You’re thinking Gryphon might have forced her to take him to one of her other properties?” Orpheus asked.

  “I’m thinking he needs a place to regroup. To figure out what to do next. He can’t do that when they’re on the run. They’re moving west. Toward where Maelea used to live. It’s worth checking, isn’t it?”

  Thoughts of the redhead who’d been snooping in Maelea’s room at the colony pinged around in Titus’s brain, but this time the thoughts weren’t personal. Or so he told himself.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed.

  “What’s the story?” Theron said as soon as he answered the call.

  “The redhead,” Titus said, looking at Orpheus and Skyla, who were watching him with curious eyes. “She was looking for Maelea. I need to talk to her. She might be able to help us figure out where Gryphon is taking Maelea.”

  “I let her go.”

  Disbelief and panic rushed through Titus before he could stop it. “You what?”

  “She wasn’t here for Maelea,” Theron said matter-of-factly. “She was here for something else. Something we don’t need or want to get involved with. Where are you? What’s the line on Gryphon?”

  Titus’s vision swam. Theron had let the female go. The first person ever whose thoughts he couldn’t hear. Though he knew she was someone he was better off leaving alone, he couldn’t stop the panic rushing through him.

  Where would she go? How will I find her? Why the hell did Theron let her go?

  “Titus?” Theron said in his ear. “Where are you?”

  His mind snapped back to the present. “Um…Idaho.”

  “You’ve got a lead on Gryphon?”

  “Yeah, we think so. Maybe.” Holy hell. What was he going to do about the redhead?

  “Is Maelea still with him?”

  He needed to pull his head out of his ass. He needed to focus on the here and now. He swiped a hand across his forehead. “It seems that way.”

  “Tell me where you are and I’ll have Nick send men your way to help you search. There’s been a rash of daemon activity in the area, and the rest of the Argonauts are dealing with that.”

  No way. Titus didn’t want Nick’s men in on their search. Not ever, if he could help it. Nick was still out for blood, after what Gryphon had done. “I’ll call when we know more.”

  “Titu—”

  He clicked off the phone and shoved it into his pocket before Theron could tell him what the hell to do.

  “Who’s this redhead?” Skyla asked.

  “A female who showed up at the colony looking for Maelea. Said she was a friend.”

  “Maelea doesn’t have any friends,” Orpheus pointed out, his brow drawn low.

  “Yeah, that was my thought,” Titus told him. “But she wanted to find her. For whatever reason. I didn’t get much out of her except that Maelea has property both in Seattle and up on Vancouver Island.”

  Excitement flared in Skyla’s green eyes. “Where on Vancouver Island?”

  “I don’t know,” Titus answered.

  Skyla turned to the computer and pulled up a new search screen. “This might be our first break.”

  Titus wasn’t so sure. Vancouver Island was a big place, and the redhead—Natasa—could just have been fucking with him to get him to back off.

  The redhead…shit. He had to stop thinking of her. She was not his priority now. Gryphon was.

  Or so he told himself.

  Pushing aside thoughts of her that would only get him into trouble, he looked toward the computer screen. And prayed they found Gryphon before the jackass did something they couldn’t undo. “Let’s hope you’re right, Siren. Because if you’re wrong, the time we waste looking could just mean Maelea’s life.”

  ***

  Atalanta paced the length of her hall. Outside, snow swirled and spit against the side of her ancient fortress, but she barely cared. The cold lived inside her. It was the only thing of comfort to her these days.

  “This should not take so fucking long! I’m losing my patience with all of you.”

  The archdaemon at the front of the pack—Stolas—bowed. “My queen, we will find him.”

  “When?” she asked, stalking down the three steps to glare into his hideous eyes. “He’s killed all the daemons you’v
e sent after him.”

  “He’ll make a mistake.”

  She ground her teeth, fought the urge to yank the sword from his scabbard and decapitate the bastard. Killing him wouldn’t help her find her doulas. If she didn’t get Gryphon soon, they’d run out of time to find the Orb before the six months Krónos had given her was up.

  “Send more daemons.” She grasped the sides of her long, red robe and climbed back up to her throne, refusing to believe even for a second that she wouldn’t succeed. She would not go back to the Underworld. Not to be his slave. She was a god. And she was destined to command all. “Gather hybrids to join in the search.”

  “My queen,” Stolas said, “the hybrids are unpredictable.”

  She turned to glare at him. “Then make them predictable. I will have your head if you fail me here, Stolas.” Fear filled his eyes. She averted her gaze and looked out over the ten daemons behind him. “I will have all your heads.”

  “My queen,” a daemon to the back of the pack said. “There is one avenue we have not investigated.”

  Atalanta’s eyes narrowed. “Who said that? Come forward.”

  The pack parted, and a daemon dressed in a long black trench coat moved to stand next to Stolas. One whose body and eyes looked…vaguely familiar.

  “What is your name?” Atalanta asked. Where had she seen him before? And who had he been in the human realm before trading his soul for a second shot at life in the Fields of Asphodel?

  “Naberus, my queen.”

  Naberus…the name meant nothing to her. But then, daemons rarely took on names that resembled those they’d used as humans.

  She didn’t miss the glare Stolas sent the newcomer. Or the smug expression Naberus shot back. He was challenging the archdaemon, and they both knew it. Something very few daemons even thought about, let alone attempted.

  “Tell me what you know,” Atalanta said, shaking off the strange feeling that she knew this daemon from somewhere. “Or I’ll have your head now.”

  “My queen,” Naberus said, “the Argonaut travels with a female.”