“But you need me if you’re—”
“I need you alive. I need to know you’re safe. If Atalanta has any idea what you mean to me, she’ll use you against me. She’ll hurt you, and I can’t—won’t—let that happen.”
Worry filled her eyes. “But—”
“This is not about you not being strong, sotiria. You’re the strongest woman I know. The bravest too, to face down not only me, but daemons and hellhounds and, skata, my brother.” He tried to smile, knew from her worried expression it didn’t help. “This is about knowing that when I’m finally free, I have you to come back to.”
“But how will you be able to focus without me there to block the darkness?”
“Look in my eyes, Maelea. They’re clear. For the first time in months. I’m not going to lose that when I’m gone. Not if I know I’ve got you to come back to. If I’m going to find Atalanta, I have to let the darkness pull me toward her.” He brushed his thumb across her smooth cheek. “But I’m not afraid of it anymore. I know I can fight it now. Thanks to you.”
She stared at his T-shirt, her expression so filled with worry and dread, he let go of her hand, threaded his fingers in her hair, stepped close, and tipped her face up to his. “I’m coming back. I promise you that. This is real. This is everything to me. Now that I know what I have to live for, I’m not about to lose it.”
Her eyes slid closed. And when he brushed his lips over hers, she gripped his elbows and kissed him back, telling him with her mouth what he already knew in his heart.
She was his. For better or worse, for however long they had together. She was his alone.
He wrapped his arms around her, held her tight. Her hands slid up his back. Her fingers gripped his shoulder blades as she turned her head against his chest and he rested his cheek on her hair.
“Will you wait for me?” he asked.
“That depends,” she said with a hitch to her voice. “How long do you plan to be gone?”
He smiled and hugged her closer because he recognized the teasing in her words. And the heartache. “As short as possible.”
She pushed back again. “How will you get to her? She has daemons all around her. What will you—?”
He placed his fingers over her lips. “Don’t think about it. I don’t want you to worry.”
“But—”
“I know how she thinks. I spent three months with her. I’ll find a way.”
Her gaze raked his face. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Only feeling. She hated this. She was scared. She didn’t want him to go.
“I’m coming back, Maelea. I promise. My heart beats because of you. It will always find its way back to you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. She pulled him close again, held on tight. So tight, he felt her everywhere. And as the waves washed against their feet, he knew no matter what happened, this was the best moment of his life. He was loved. Not because of his title. Not because of what he could do. Even in spite of everything he’d done in the Underworld. He was loved simply for who he was.
“Come inside and help me gather my things?”
She eased out of his arms when he let go, swiped at her cheeks. “You go ahead. I need a minute.”
She was hurting. He knew he’d sprung this on her without warning. He could give her a few minutes. He kissed her cheek, knowing he was going to remember that jasmine scent of hers wherever he went. That just the memory would give him strength. “Don’t be long.”
The weight of what lay ahead hung heavy on his shoulders, but for the first time in months—ever, really—his heart felt light. Alive. As if it had wings. It felt…right.
The screen slapped behind him when he stepped into the house. He wiped the sand from his feet on the rug, then crossed to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. As he headed up the stairs, he tried to remember where he’d put the sword he’d picked up in that cave. He’d have to get new weapons, knew Maelea would have money for him to buy more. Calculated—
His feet stilled halfway up the steps when he realized the therillium hadn’t been glowing orange under the heat lamp the way it had the whole time they’d been here.
He headed back into the kitchen, set his cup on the counter, wound around the island to look at the ore. The heat lamp was still on, but the ore definitely wasn’t glowing. It was nothing but a hard, solid, greenish-black glob. It wasn’t even glowing green, as it had been in the water of that underground river.
Tendrils of unease rushed over his spine, and his pulse picked up speed. Carefully, he touched it. The rock was cold and hard, and not an inkling of energy or power radiated from its surface.
A growl echoed from outside.
His head darted up. And his heart lurched into his throat just before Maelea screamed.
Chapter Nineteen
Gryphon grabbed a butcher knife from the block on the counter and tore the screen door open.
Maelea was climbing up on an outcropping of rock to the left of the bay in an attempt to escape. Across the sand, five snarling hellhounds were advancing on her.
Gryphon screamed to get their attention. Waved his arms above his head, tore off the deck, and raced toward the water to put himself between them and Maelea.
They had to have been waiting for the therillium to lose its power. He was so stupid. Stupid to think she would be safe here alone. That Hades wouldn’t continue to track her. That no one had noticed he’d taken that therillium in the first place.
He charged the closest beast, already at the rocks, ready to lurch toward Maelea with snapping jaws. Sand and water flicked up from Gryphon’s feet. He hurled himself at the beast. They rolled across the sand, a tumble of arms and legs and teeth. Gryphon scrambled to his feet before the beast could pin him down and arced out with the knife in his hand. He caught the beast across the foreleg. It howled and dropped back. Then snapped its massive jaws and charged.
Maelea screamed again. Gryphon looked over just as she reached the top of the five-foot-high boulder. She twisted around, threw mussel shells and pebbles, whatever she could find, at another hound trying to reach her.
He stabbed out with his knife again. Blood dripped down the snarling hound’s neck. Behind him, growls echoed as the other three advanced on Maelea. Then the ground shook beneath his feet, just as it had in the colony’s caves, just as it had in that motel room. Only he didn’t know where it was coming from or if it could help.
There were too many, he realized. His only hope was to use his gift and freeze them so she could get away.
He arced out, caught the hound at the jugular. Blood squirted all over him and the ground. The beast stilled, made no sound, then dropped to the sand. He looked for Maelea. Three hellhounds jumped and snarled and snapped at the base of her rock. The fourth was headed straight for him with glowing red eyes.
He centered himself. The ground shook harder. His eyes fell closed as he drew on his gift. But Maelea’s scream jolted him out of focus.
His eyes shot open. Maelea’s arms swung out for balance, but her footing slipped on the rocks. And then she was falling.
No!
Panic and bone-chilling fear rocketed through him. He pushed his muscles forward, sprinted through the water toward her. A hound slammed into him from the side. They rolled through the shallow surf. The knife went flying. The hound pinned him to the ground and closed his jaws over his shoulder.
Pain spiraled through his body, and he roared. A blinding red ignited behind his eyes. He jabbed at the beast’s face, couldn’t seem to get the thing to let go.
Maelea. He had to get to Maelea…
He shoved up hard with his knee. Clawed out with as much force as he could. A whir sounded close. Then another. The beast let go and howled. Then dropped to his side next to Gryphon in the surf.
Chest heaving, Gryphon push
ed himself up. Two arrows stuck out of the side of the dead hellhound. His gaze shifted out over the beach, to Titus and Skyla killing what was left of the hellhounds. Then to the water, where Orpheus was hauling a soaking wet and bloody Maelea to her feet in the waist-high surf.
She sputtered, coughed, held on to Orpheus as he lifted her into his arms and walked toward the beach.
She was alive. Relief poured through Gryphon like a tidal wave. He pushed to his feet. Needed to touch her. To hold her. Blood gushed from his shoulder. A wave of dizziness dropped him back on his ass. Water sprayed around him.
“Shit,” Skyla said. “Orpheus! He’s hurt. And, uh, boys? Look up there.”
Gryphon looked toward the cliff Skyla was pointing to. The cliff was covered in seething, glowing green-eyed daemons.
Holy fuck, they’d been found by everyone.
“We need to get them both back to Argolea,” Skyla said. “Like now.”
Argolea? No. Gryphon tried to push up again. A wave crashed into him, jostling his body against the sand. “Maelea—”
“I’m all for that,” Titus said, stalking Gryphon’s way at a fast pace. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know,” Orpheus said somewhere close. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before those daemons figure out how to get down that cliff.”
“Relax, Gryphon,” Skyla said at his side, kneeling beside him. “We’ll get you home.”
He didn’t want to go home. He just wanted Maelea. He struggled to see past Skyla, but Titus stepped in his way. Then looked down at him and shook his head with a you’re such a dumbshit expression.
Before Gryphon could ask where they’d come from or what the hell was going on, Titus brought his fingers together and opened the portal. A burst of light blinded Gryphon’s eyes. And then he was flying.
***
“I’m fine,” Maelea said for the hundredth time. “I’m not hurt. Stop fussing over me.”
She tried to get up, but Callia pushed on her shoulder, keeping her prone against the bed. “You hit your head and have a concussion. You’re not going anywhere just yet, missy. Relax. You’re safe here.”
Maelea wasn’t worried about being safe. She was worried about Gryphon.
She hadn’t seen him since they were brought to the castle in Argolea. The Argonauts had whisked him off somewhere as soon as they came through the portal, and every time she asked what was going on, she’d been told not to worry.
Not worry? That wasn’t possible. She knew the Argonauts hadn’t been happy with Gryphon before he kidnapped her. Likely were even less thrilled with him now. She needed to find them. To set things right. She’d seen the anger in Orpheus’s eyes when he hauled her out of the water. Had seen the way he cut Gryphon a bitter glare, as if her falling in the water and hitting her head was his fault. He couldn’t be more wrong. It was her own stupid fault. She knew now there was some sort of hidden power in her, one she’d called on out there on that rock. One that vibrated from her into the ground and caused it to shake. And it was that power that had knocked her off her own feet and tossed her into the waves.
All of them couldn’t be more wrong about Gryphon. She had to get to him. She had to make them understand…
She pushed up again. “If you’ll just let me—”
The door whooshed open, and Skyla stuck her blond head inside the room. “Is it okay for me to be here?”
Skyla. Relief pinged through Maelea’s chest. Yes, Skyla would help her.
Callia glanced toward the door. “Actually, you have good timing. I need to go check on Gryphon. Can you stay with Maelea?”
“Sure.”
Callia looked back at Maelea. “You, stay put.”
Maelea’s nerves bounced in her stomach as Callia left. When she and Skyla were alone, she focused on the Siren’s green eyes. “Tell me how he is.”
“He’ll live. Getting patched up. I’m a little surprised at your concern, though.”
“He didn’t do anything to me.”
“That’s not what it looked like when we got there. It looked like you were trying to get away from him and those hellhounds showed up.”
Maelea blew out a breath of frustration. “That’s not what was happening at all. I was looking out at the water, trying to get my head on straight when those hellhounds appeared. Gryphon was in the house packing to leave. He wasn’t anywhere near me. And even if he had been near me, I wouldn’t have been trying to get away from him.”
Confusion crossed Skyla’s face as she eased down on the side of Maelea’s bed. “Maybe you’d better tell me just what happened while you were with Gryphon these last few weeks. Because when Orpheus saw you with him in the caves beneath the colony, just before the floor broke open, getting away from him was the only thing you—or we—wanted.”
Maelea swiped both hands over her still damp hair as her pulse picked up speed. How could she explain what had happened? She couldn’t. All she could do was try to convince Skyla he wasn’t the monster the rest of the Argonauts were undoubtedly sure he’d become.
She fought back the rush of emotions. But wasn’t strong enough to stop the tears that stung her eyes. “You want to know what happened?” When Skyla nodded, she said, “I realized how special he is. And I fell in love with him. That’s what happened.”
***
The voice was back.
Which meant Maelea wasn’t close.
Gryphon ground his teeth as he sat on the bed in nothing but wet jeans while the med tech wrapped his shoulder, fighting to hold back his temper.
“What the hell were you thinking, Gryphon?” Theron roared at him. “Do you have any idea what kind of fucking mess you’ve made for the rest of us to clean up? Hellhounds. Skata. Not to mention the line of dead daemons you left in your wake. You’re damn lucky Titus and Orpheus came through after you. Not that it fucking matters, since the Council’s already caught wind of this disaster.”
Gryphon cut a look at Orpheus near the door. His brother’s arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes as hard and cold as Gryphon had ever seen them.
Oh yeah, his brother was pissed at him. And with good reason.
He looked toward Titus, leaning against the wall behind Theron, a toothpick sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Luckily, the Argonaut had healed from his wounds. Which was about the only good news right now. Even so, a burst of remorse trickled through Gryphon’s veins.
“Nick’s ready to have you skewered,” Theron went on, pinning him with a look. “He’s banned you from the colony.” His black eyes narrowed. “Are you listening to any fucking thing I’m saying?”
No, actually, Gryphon wasn’t. All he could think about was Maelea. “Where is she?”
“Safe from you, finally,” Theron said with dead calm.
Gryphon’s heart cinched down tight. And panic slid through his veins. “You have to let her stay. She can’t go back to the colony. She won’t stay there, and Hades is hunting her.”
“Why the hell would you care?” Theron asked. “You fucking kidnapped her.”
His pulse pounded hard in his chest. Yeah, he had, but he’d also found something in her he’d never expected to find anywhere else. Something he now knew he couldn’t live without.
“Well?” Theron asked.
Before Gryphon could answer, the door opened and Cerek stuck his head in the room. “Um, Theron. Sorry, man. I need you for a minute. We have a…situation downstairs.”
“What kind of situation?” Theron asked.
“A Council situation.”
“This is all I need,” Theron muttered. He looked to Gryphon. “You. Stay put. We’re not done.”
As he left, Gryphon couldn’t help but worry that the Council had found out Maelea was in their realm. They’d never allow that. Not the daughter of Persephone and Zeus.
His stomach tightened.
Titus pushed away from the wall. “O? Can I see you outside in the hall for a minute?”
Gryphon’s wariness kicked in as he watched the two leave. Now what the hell was going on? As the med tech continued to bandage his shoulder, he tried to listen to what was happening beyond the door. Couldn’t hear anything but that voice echoing in his head. It was there, but not strong, which meant Maelea had to be somewhere in the castle. If she were outside the castle walls, the voice would be a blaring roar in his ears.
The door pushed open again, but instead of his kin, Callia stepped into the room. “I’ll finish that for you,” she said to the tech.
The female nodded, then slipped out of the room without a word.
Callia glanced at the bandage job, then pressed her fingers all around the outside of the wounds on his shoulder, using her healing gift to feel for problems. “It’s not as deep as it could have been. You were lucky.”
“How is she?” he asked, knowing Callia had to have seen Maelea. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s fine,” Callia answered as she continued to wrap his shoulder. “She has a slight concussion from hitting her head. Nothing more. Skyla’s with her now.”
Skyla. Gryphon’s eyes slid closed, and he drew in a breath, let it out slowly. Just hearing from someone that Maelea was okay eased the pressure on his chest.
“She seems quite worried about you,” Callia said.
The space around his heart warmed. “I—I need to see her.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good id—”
The door pushed open, but instead of Theron and the others, Orpheus came back into the room alone. The anger was gone from his eyes. In its place was shock and…confusion.