Tempted

  “Of course,” Hades said, leaning toward her, “I may be willing to make a trade. If you’d rather keep your soul instead, that is.”

  “A t-trade?”

  His hollow eyes sparked. “Your soul for the diamond in your fist.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “You…you’d give me my soul back? Just that easy?”

  “Of course that easy. A deal is, after all, a deal.”

  Hope flared and a future, a real future, beckoned. But even before warmth spread up her torso, the flames of life grew cold and dark.

  She couldn’t give him the element. Apophis had the Orb, but it was only a matter of time before Hades figured that out and took it back. Judging from the little power play he’d put on here minutes ago, taking the Orb back would be a snap. And if Persephone found the other three elements before the month was up…then the world as they knew it would be destroyed.

  “It’s a simple choice, little queen. Your soul. Yours once more to do with as you please. And I will be nothing but a memory.”

  “Isadora!” Demetrius’s voice echoed from somewhere close again. A banging sound followed. Her eyes strayed to the dark ceiling of the temple, covered in gold-plated tiles.

  Hades’s gaze followed. “I’m getting really tired of his interference. If it weren’t for that damn soul mate curse, I’d have lured you out days ago.”

  Soul mate curse? Her brows snapped together. “Lured me out? I don’t—”

  “Understand? Yeah,” Hades said with growing impatience. “I remember that phrase well.” He pushed to stand. “Now, little queen, I’ve had enough chitchat for one day. The element. And I’ll be on my way.”

  Isadora’s head felt like it might just explode. But one thing was clear. She was all that stood between Hades and the end of the world.

  She pushed up to her feet, wobbled but caught herself. Her legs ached, her side was sore, and she was covered in dust. But she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders just the same. “No.”

  “What did you say to me?”

  Her heart raced, her limbs trembled. He was at least seven feet tall and next to him she looked and felt like a child, but she held her ground. “I said no. I’ll not give it to you. Not freely, at least.”

  His eyes went from coal black to bloodred, and before she could even gasp, his entire head exploded in a ball of flames. The face of a fire demon shot out from the blazing inferno. “Who are you to challenge me?”

  The roar of his voice lifted the hair away from her face as if a great wind had swept through the temple. She gripped the diamond tighter and knew even if it meant losing her life and her soul for all eternity, this was worth taking a stand for.

  From somewhere deep inside she pulled up every ounce of courage she had left. “I said go back to hell. You can’t have it! Not now. Not ever!”

  His roar was deafening. She slammed her hands over her ears to block the sound. Flames shot out from every part of his body, the heat so intense it singed the hair on her arms and legs. What was left of him swirled so fast, a giant vortex opened up in the middle of the room. Electricity crackled and popped, and then in an explosion that shook the temple, he vanished, leaving behind nothing but swirling dust and debris followed by bone-chilling silence.

  No way that just happened…

  Isadora’s heart thundered against her ribs. He was gone. Just that fast. Her eyes darted right and left, searching, waiting for him to poof into reality again and backhand her into eternity.

  “Very good, Princess.”

  She whipped toward the altar, but this time the voice was female, not male. And even before the face registered, somewhere inside she knew the being staring back at her was a Fate.

  A Fate. Oh, gods. She tried to remember what each one was responsible for. Clotho spun the thread of life. Lachesis measured the thread with her rod. And…what was the name of the last one? Atropos, that was it. Atropos cut the thread when one’s time was up.

  Isadora’s heart lurched into her throat. Please, please don’t let this be Atropos. There was still so much she needed to do with this life. So much she’d been afraid to try before, but now…

  The Fate, dressed in a thin white robe, floated across the ground and stopped a foot from Isadora. She was petite, smaller than Isadora, yet Isadora sensed she was stronger and wiser than any god.

  The Fate smiled, the wrinkled skin around her eyes crinkling. “That was quite a show you put on.”

  Isadora stood rooted in place with the diamond clenched tightly in her hand, staring at the Fate, wondering how the hell this day could get any weirder.

  From somewhere below, Hades roared, “Mine!”

  The Fate glared down toward the floor. “Oh, go play with your three-headed dog, you bully.”

  He let out another ear-piercing roar, then silence descended once more.

  The Fate winked at Isadora. “We don’t have much time. I sense a temper tantrum coming on. He never learned to play well with others, you know.” The humor faded from her voice when she said, “Fear not, dear one, I have not come to snip the thread of your life. If anything, I’ve come to—”

  “You’re not Atropos.” A breath of relief swept through Isadora.

  The Fate frowned. “I don’t know why those from your world keep mistaking me for that old hag. I’m clearly more attractive than the messenger of death.”

  Isadora stared wide-eyed as the Fate chuckled to herself over her own private joke. She wasn’t sure what to say…what to do, for that matter. This meeting was beyond anything she could imagine.

  “Oh, bah. Take my word for it. Atropos needs a face-lift or two.” The Fate squared her shoulders. “Now, before our time is up, I’ll get on with the purpose of my visit. You grow weaker by the day, as do your sisters. But fear not, for the strength you all seek is at hand.”

  “But the Orb of Krónos,” Isadora cut in, remembering the medallion around Gryphon’s—Apophis’s—neck. “We lost it.”

  The Fate waved off her protest. “Where does your strength come from, dear one? Not from some magickal orb. It comes from that which is hidden deep inside each of you. Use that for the good of mankind and you won’t be lost.”

  Isadora had no idea what that meant. “I don’t understand. Why are you helping me? How—?”

  “There are powers at work here no one expects you to understand. And I help you because you, unlike some others I know, are wise enough to listen. But ask yourself this: why wouldn’t I help you, Hora? The Fates want balance in this world and the next as much as you do. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. I’m simply encouraging you to remain steadfast. There are rules in this world, rules not even I can break. But know this, you were right in that you are all linked to the Titan Themis through your father’s bloodline. Hold steady to that, and you and your sisters will find the answers you seek. The bonds the three of you share cannot be broken. Not by any god. Not by any spell. Not even by Hera’s curse.”

  Hera’s curse.

  The ground trembled and Isadora’s gaze shot to the floor again.

  “I suggest you hurry.” The Fate pointed toward the entrance. “Hades has a nasty temper. And you, clever girl, have succeeded in aggravating him greatly. Normally I would take much amusement in that, but not at the expense of your safety.”

  Isadora’s head spun as she tried to make sense of everything the Fate had said. She took three steps toward the door then whipped back. “Wait. The witches in Thrace Castle…they cast some kind of spell over me. Is that…is that why I’ve been drawn to Demetrius?”

  “I cannot answer your questions.” The Fate tipped her head. “But ponder this: what does your heart tell you?”

  Isadora searched her feelings. No. No, what she felt for Demetrius had come from the very center of her. No spell could make her feel the depth of emotion she’d felt the last few days.

  “I knew you were wiser than most believed,” the Fate said with a smile, drawing Isadora’s attention again. “The attrac
tion spell those witches cast was wrenched from your body when Apophis decided to punish you.”

  So her reaction to Demetrius really was her own. Isadora breathed a bit easier, though why she wasn’t quite sure. But then another thought occurred. “Hades said something about the soul mate curse. He didn’t mean…?”

  The Fate lifted her salt-and-pepper eyebrows.

  Isadora’s throat grew thick. She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, let alone was about to say it. “He couldn’t possibly have meant Demetrius is my soul mate, could he?”

  “Argoleans, even those of the royal family, do not have soul mates. You know this.”

  No, they didn’t. Only the Argonauts had soul mates. And thanks to Hera, they were intended to be a curse, not a blessing.

  The disappointment was swift and consuming. As swift as a blade to the chest. And completely unexpected. Did she even want to be his soul mate? That was just—

  “You choose whom you want to choose,” the Fate went on. “But for Demetrius…there is only one he cannot deny.”

  Isadora’s eyes slowly lifted. And she thought back to her night with Demetrius. To the struggle he waged between what he seemed to want but wasn’t sure he deserved. To every time he’d rescued her and made sure she was safe. Even when she hadn’t wanted him to.

  Her. She was the one he couldn’t deny.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Then that means—”

  “It means exactly what it is. And that causes Hades much grief because he can’t infiltrate the subconscious of a hero’s soul mate. Not when her hero guards over her.”

  Her hero. Her heart burst in her chest at the thought. That’s exactly what he’d been doing this last week, wasn’t it? Guarding her? She’d had dreams this week of Hades—horrible dreams, like always—but they hadn’t lingered as they normally did. And in the mornings there’d been no residual effect. That was because of Demetrius, she now realized. Because he’d kept her safe, slept next to her, made sure the Lord of the Underworld stayed away, even if he hadn’t known he’d been doing it. Though she didn’t understand why he kept trying to push her away with his cruel words, she knew now he would never be able to. Not completely.

  Love blossomed in her soul. The kind she’d always hoped for but never expected. And as her mind swirled with the possibilities, she thought of her mother. And the cost of love.

  She looked back to the Fate and knew this was her one chance to know the truth. Even though the Fate probably wouldn’t answer, she had to ask. “Did she know? My mother? About my father’s indiscretions? Is that why she left?”

  Sympathy crossed the Fate’s face and she glanced to the ground, pursing her lips as if choosing her words carefully. “Your mother loved your father deeply. And she was a good queen. A good wife to him. But your father…what does he love above all else, dear one?”

  “His kingdom.” The words left Isadora’s mouth on a whisper, without a question in her mind.

  The Fate’s sad eyes lifted to Isadora’s. “He still does.”

  He did. Isadora knew that better than anyone.

  Sacrifice. Her father was always preaching about the responsibility of the monarchy and the level of sacrifice it took to rule. She’d never believed him before, but now…? Did it matter if she was Demetrius’s soul mate? If he didn’t want to bind himself to her because she was of the royal line, then she couldn’t force him.

  She looked down at her hand, opened her fist so the diamond sparkled up at her. She wasn’t good at dealing with emotions. Her parents hadn’t exactly taught her about never-ending love or what a good binding should be. She knew now that she did care about Demetrius, deeply, even with his dark moods and endless secrets and the way he kept himself closed off for reasons that didn’t seem to make sense, but she couldn’t walk away from her destiny either. She and her sisters…they were important. They were needed now more than ever. The face-off moments ago with Hades had reinforced just how important her position in this war really was.

  The ground’s trembling increased in intensity and the Fate began to fade. “Look within yourself for the balance you seek, dear one. I promise all your questions will be answered there.”

  Isadora didn’t know what that meant, but the shaking walls jolted her out of her reverie. Rock and marble cracked, broke free to tumble down in a horrendous crash. Shielding her head with her hands, she ran out the entrance and down the three marble steps, sprinting across the dark cavern for the tunnel. From somewhere above she heard Demetrius’s frantic voice calling to her, but the explosion of rock and granite at her back drowned out all other sound.

  She reached the tunnel, darted through the long domed corridor, and spotted the stairs that led up to the surface. Rocks and debris tore into the flesh of her feet. She pumped her arms, gripped the diamond tight in her fist, and ignored the burn in her lungs, in her legs, as she ran harder. She wasn’t going to die here. She had a purpose now, even if it wasn’t the one she’d always wanted. Light shone down from the surface, a golden glow that urged her on.

  Yes. I’m going to make it.

  A thunderous clap echoed from above. She reached the first step and looked up just as the ceiling collapsed.

  Chapter 19

  “Isadora!” The force of the explosion shattered the invisible force field holding Demetrius back. He stumbled forward, caught his balance, and immediately began lifting pieces of debris out of the way.

  Please, gods. He hurled rocks right and left. “Isadora!”

  No sound met his ears. No answer. Great fissures had opened up in the earth, tearing through the grassy hillside, showcasing the mighty stones and pillars that had been hidden below. Jagged edges of rocks and marble ripped through the flesh of his hands as he dug deeper.

  “Isadora!”

  Sweat slid down his face, dripped onto his chest. The heat of the sun scorched his back as he kept moving massive pieces of stone, one at a time, searching. He’d heard her talking to Lachesis, damn it. Had heard every word they said. She’d been running for the exit when the ground collapsed. She couldn’t be far from the steps that used to be right where he stood now.

  Where is she?

  Time seemed to drag on. Five minutes? Twenty? An hour? He wasn’t sure how much time passed. All he knew was that she was here. Somewhere close, she was here.

  Breathing heavily, his muscles sore from exertion, he stopped digging, wiped his forearm over his brow. A renewed sense of panic gnawed at his belly. Why couldn’t he find her? Why couldn’t he—

  His spells. He could lift the rocks away with witchcraft. But which spell? His brain ran blank. He looked down at the amount of debris around him. A spell of this magnitude would drain him not only of physical strength but of mental strength as well. And if he was wrong, if he wasn’t strong enough to cast it, he’d waste precious time he could use searching for Isadora with his bare hands.

  Indecision warred as he raked his hands through his hair, grabbed on to the strands, and pulled until pain shot across his scalp.

  You’re not weak, Guardian, contrary to what you think. What you fear most may just have the power to save you. But only if you let it.

  Lachesis’s words from that night on the cliff—the night he’d taken that first step toward Isadora—ran back through his mind. Where they settled in. He took a deep breath. Then another.

  Okay, focus. You can do this.

  Closing his eyes, he held out his hands and regulated his breaths as words, phrases, chants tumbled through his mind. Spells he hadn’t uttered in years but once had been as natural as drawing air. One grew stronger in his thoughts, like a beacon dragging him forward, casting shadows and darkness over all the rest.

  His lips moved. Words spilled from his mouth. Rock scraped rock as he chanted in the warm, moist air and drew on the power of his ancestors.

  His muscles bore the weight of the rocks. He gritted his teeth, lifted, and directed them away from the rubble with the sweep of his hands. One by one he
moved broken pieces of marble and granite until his arms and legs screamed in protest. Until he could see the first few steps beneath the rubble.

  Sweat poured down his temples. Fatigue settled in as time slipped away. But he fought against both. He had to find her. He wouldn’t give up. He readied himself to start again, only to stop short when his ears registered the slightest sound.

  A whisper. A squeak. Coming from somewhere in the rubble. A rasp. A voice?

  He dropped to the ground, placed his palms on the warm rocks beneath him, and turned his head to listen closer.

  There. He heard it again. It sounded like…

  “Isadora?”

  The squeak echoed again. So faint he barely heard it. His pulse picking up speed, he cleared away a handful of rocks until his progress was stopped by a large slab of marble that was as long as a car and too heavy to move by sheer force. “Isadora?”

  “Here,” a small voice called. “I’m here. Down…here.”

  Relief flowed through his veins, as sweet as wine. “Hold on, kardia. I’m going to get you out. Keep talking to me so I know where to dig.”

  She did. Mumbling words he couldn’t hear but which vibrated all the way into his chest and gave him the extra strength he needed. Closing his eyes, he focused again, letting the chant flow from his lips at lightning speed while he moved debris away from her voice.

  “I’m here.”

  His eyes opened at the sound of her voice, clearer now, and he realized enough material had been moved to open a dark hole into the rubble. He rushed to the right of the great marble slab and fell to his knees. Inside the hole, covered in a layer of thin white dust, she looked up at him, blinking into the bright light.

  Holy gods. Thank you.

  He pulled her out of the hole as carefully as he could, but with a frantic need to make sure she was in one piece. Once she cleared the lip, her weight shifted into his and he stumbled backward, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered as he tucked her head under his chin and moved away from the debris.