Enraptured

Chapter 12

Kalispell, Montana, was the closest city to the accident. Rescue personnel loaded survivors into helicopters and airlifted them away from the wreckage. It took several hours, but by morning Orpheus eventually found himself in a town he didn’t recognize, with two females who were both shooting daggers his way anytime he caught their gazes.

Maelea, he got. The female hated him with a passion. She wasn’t happy about being with him—anywhere—and even though he and Skyla had succeeded in killing those hounds, Maelea didn’t seem reassured he could keep her safe. And her constant distrust as to where he was taking her grated on his last nerve.

And then there was the Siren. He glanced out the window of the car-rental office to the lot beyond, where Skyla and Maelea waited. The Siren had been hot as fire when he’d kissed her after dragging her from the wreckage of that avalanche. Then cool as ice since they’d killed the hounds. He couldn’t follow her mood swings. Didn’t know what the hell he’d done to piss her off this time. All he knew was he still wanted her. Common sense told him to be rid of her, but something in his chest said he wasn’t done with her yet.

“Focus, dumbass,” he muttered, turning back to sign the paperwork for the car.

The sales clerk looked up with a perturbed expression. “Excuse me?”

Great. Caught talking to himself. Fucking fabulous.

Since he frequented the human realm whenever the hell he wanted, he kept cash reserves here. Was familiar with how things worked. Even had a number of false identities, so he could skate through society when he needed. Pulling them off usually wasn’t a big deal. Unless he wasn’t paying attention. Like now.

He tried for a smile that came out more as a sneer. “Nothing. Is that it?”

The clerk folded the papers, slipped them in an envelope. “Yes. They’re bringing the car around now.”

“Perfect.”

Orpheus pushed the glass door open and crossed the frigid parking lot toward the females. The morning sun beat down on the piles of snow still littering the pavement, but as the temperature was near freezing, it did shit to warm anything up. Maelea still wore the coat they’d bought for her in Everett, had her arms folded across her stomach, her gaze directed to the pavement. Skyla, dressed in those stripper Siren boots, fitted black pants, and a jacket that all but swallowed her whole, stood at Maelea’s side, gnawing on the inside of her lip and glaring in his direction.

Such love. From both of them. They were obviously more than thankful he’d saved their lives. Why the hell hadn’t he just let them both die? There had to be an easier way to find that rat bastard Apophis. He didn’t need this grief.

He was all but ready to announce that when Skyla glanced from him to Maelea and back again. The look in her eyes was not one of anger or hatred, but jealousy.

The ground tilted beneath his feet. He felt the parking lot shift and twirl. And then he was standing in a room, large columns rising to a ceiling he couldn’t see, gold and marble and richly colored drapes and rugs filling the space. A woman was next to him, sitting in a chair, looking at a book. Her long red hair was pulled up on the sides and clipped at her crown, while the rest of the heavy mass fell down her back. She laughed, looked up, and smiled.

Pretty. She was pretty with that red hair and those shimmering green eyes. But he didn’t recognize her.

He leaned over her, pointed to something in the book. The woman placed her hand on his forearm and laughed again.

From his right, a sound echoed. Skyla stepped into the room wearing a long white gauzy dress tied at the waist with a gold sash. She looked from him to the woman, then back again. And before he could say anything, she disappeared the way she’d come in.

He wasn’t sure what the hell he was seeing. He was there, but he wasn’t. Watching it as if it were a movie, but seeing through the eyes of an actor. He felt himself floating through the corridor, following Skyla. She turned when she reached the wide front marble terrace. More columns lined the front of the building and down the twenty or so steps, a city lay beyond, tall mountains to the right and left, and water—an ocean of blue—as far as the eye could see.

“Skyla!”

She whipped around, shot him a scathing look. The same look she’d just sent him in the parking lot. The same look he’d gotten used to seeing this whole last day. “I thought you weren’t going to marry her.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what is she doing here?”

“Visiting. Her father sent her.”

“Visiting.” She all but vibrated with rage. And hurt. And jealousy. A jealousy that for reasons he couldn’t explain rocked him to his knees. “Fine. Then go to her.”

She turned, rushed down three steps before he grasped her by the arm and whipped her back to face him. “I don’t want her. I want you.”

“Why? She’s a princess. She’s exactly what they want you to have. All I am is—”

“Mine.” Her heat was intoxicating. Her body like a thirst he could never quench. He wanted to shake some sense into her. Hated that she’d think he’d want anyone but her. Didn’t she have eyes? “You’re mine, Siren. Just mine. Understand?”

“Orpheus?”

The steps, the view, the palace beneath his feet faded like a thinning mist. Orpheus blinked once, twice, shook his head to clear the fog. When focus came back he found himself in the parking lot, looking into the same gemlike eyes, only these weren’t soft and desire-filled as they’d been on those steps when he’d taken her into his arms. These were wary and confused and more than a little intimidating.

“What’s with you?” Skyla asked. “I’m the one that was nearly toasted. Twice. And you look like you have PTSD. See anything wrong with this picture?”

He had no idea what she was mumbling about. He heard her words but they didn’t register. He turned to Maelea for help, only the look she sent him said he was on his own. And from the way they were both staring at him as if he’d grown a third eye, he knew he’d just had another of those weird-ass visions.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck. He rubbed both hands over his face. Tried like hell to settle the pounding of his heart. Didn’t even come close. What was happening to him?

“Orpheus?” Skyla said again. “Are you tripping on drugs or what?”

He wished.

He pressed his fingers into his temples until pain shot through his skull. “Just tired. I’m fine.”

Only he wasn’t. Even he knew he wasn’t fine. He was way the fuck freaked-out. Because that didn’t seem like a vision to him. There were emotions in there. Emotions still pinging around in his chest like a billiard ball bouncing off bumpers.

That had felt…like a memory.

Which was not fucking possible.

An engine purred, then the attendant pulled the SUV up, stopping at Orpheus’s left. Thankful for the distraction he reached for the keys, but Skyla was right there, taking them before he could.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

“Driving. No way I’m getting in a moving vehicle with you when you’re lapsing into la-la land every few minutes.”

“I’m not—”

“Climb in,” she said to Maelea.

Maelea eyed them both as if they were certifiable but opened the back door of the Tahoe and slid inside the car without a word. Skyla sent Orpheus a superior smirk.

“You don’t even know where we’re going.”

“So you’ll tell me. Now, are you coming along or not? I can just as easily leave your ass here as I can rescue you.”

It was what he’d said to her in the parking lot back in Seattle after they’d gotten Maelea away from those hounds. But the memory of that vision—the emotions—rolled through his chest again before he could be impressed that she remembered, tipped him off balance in a way he’d never been before.

Who was she to him? And why couldn’t he figure it out?

“Look, daemon. I know it chaps your ass to be saddled by a female, but deal with it.” She climbed into the SUV. Slammed the door. Shot him a hurry up already look through the windshield.

And in the cool morning breeze, he knew he could be an ass or try to lighten the mood. They still had several hours before they reached the colony. Regardless of what was happening in his fucked-up head, he really didn’t want to spend those hours dodging her daggers.

He climbed into the passenger seat. Latched his seat belt. As she put the vehicle in drive and pulled out of the lot, he rested his elbow on the windowsill. “For the record, Siren, I like being saddled. Reverse cowgirl is my favorite. When you’re ready to ride, you just let me know.”

She snorted and flipped on the radio. Loud.

He chuckled all the way to Whitefish, Montana.

Skyla didn’t know what to expect when they reached their destination. In her head she’d pictured little cabins. Maybe a small lodge. A dozen or so people. Tepees probably wouldn’t even have surprised her, considering Orpheus had described the inhabitants here as refugees. But when Orpheus told her to pull off the pothole-riddled one-lane dirt road she doubted a car had driven over in years and park inside a cave, she started to wonder what the hell was up.

He was being cryptically quiet. Had been since they’d passed Whitefish and that irritating laughter had died down. After giving her directions, he’d lapsed into silence and they’d driven the remaining three hours deep into the wilderness without another word. Several times she’d glanced into the rearview mirror to make sure Maelea was still there. Thankfully—or unthankfully—the female was. Though Skyla wasn’t thrilled with the way Orpheus treated her, the girl was growing more defiant by the minute, something Skyla sort of liked. At least she was showing some spunk now, whereas before she’d seemed more like a mouse. Skyla had very little use for females who passively let others tell them what to do.

Isn’t that what you’ve let the gods do all these years?

She shook off the thought. She was not Maelea. Not by a long shot. And why was she even comparing herself to the girl when it was Orpheus she should be concerned with?

He’d had another one of those weird zoning-out spells in that parking lot in Kalispell. She’d seen him do that now three times. Was that somehow related to his daemon? Was that why he couldn’t shift? Part of her was still irritated he hadn’t shifted back there in the woods when they’d been hunting those daemons and she’d nearly been lunch. Another part—a part she was trying hard to ignore—was glad. There was something sexy about him in his Argolean form kicking ass. Really freakin’ animalistic sexy.

She tamped down the desire stirring in her core as she climbed out of the vehicle, tugged on her jacket again. The car doors closing echoed around her in the dark space. She’d driven deep enough into the cave where the vehicle wasn’t visible from the road anymore.

Orpheus pulled out the flashlight he’d bought in Whitefish and flipped it on. A steady beam of light lit up the darkness and the cave walls around them.

“Are you sure about this, daemon?”

“Just keep up,” he answered.

Skyla didn’t really have any other choice. She nudged Maelea in front of her and the two followed Orpheus and the light deep into the cave.

They walked nearly twenty minutes. Shivers racked Skyla’s body. Every now and then her boot would slip and she’d twist her ankle on the uneven rocks. From up ahead she heard a noise.

She grasped Maelea by the arm to stop her. The light kept moving. Unease rippled through Skyla as the cave grew dark and a voice she couldn’t make out echoed ahead.

“What is it?” Maelea whispered.

“I don’t know.” Skyla pulled the dagger from her back. “Stay behind me.”

She stepped in front of Maelea. Stilled. No sound echoed from the direction Orpheus had gone. For a moment she thought of calling out to him. And then a light cut through the inky darkness, followed by the clomp of boots. Skyla lifted a hand to block the glare.

“This isn’t a pit stop, ladies,” Orpheus said in an irritated tone. “We’re almost there.”

Relief rushed through Skyla’s veins. She sheathed her dagger, nudged Maelea forward.

Orpheus nodded toward the bend in the tunnel behind him, his flashlight pointed up to illuminate the darkness. “There’s a sentry right around the corner. He’ll take us the rest of the way in.”

He stepped aside to let Maelea pass, but when Skyla reached him he moved back until he partially blocked the tunnel.

She had to turn sideways to get by. Her chest brushed his in the process and warmth spread from his body into hers at the contact, followed by a zing of déjà vu she remembered from the night he’d pinned her to the wall of that apartment in Washington. Her feet stumbled, her cheeks heated at the memory. And the desire she’d worked so hard to forget flared hot all over again.

“Scared you lost me, Siren?”

His voice was as soft as a husky whisper, and his gray eyes, dark in the low light of the cave, simmered with mischief. A mischief that tugged at her and drew her in.

“No,” she lied. “Afraid you lost me, daemon?”

“I was. In that avalanche.”

Her stomach tightened at the emotion she heard in his voice. A hot, needy, wanting sound she’d not heard in thousands of years.

He disappeared into the darkness again before she could think of something to say. And alone, her chest squeezed so tight it hurt to draw air.

Daemon. Traitor. Hero.

The words revolved in her head. She tried to ignore the last one, reminded herself the first two were all that mattered. But those words were drifting out of her reach. Moving away from what she associated with him. And the last echoed loudly in the space left behind.

Her head felt heavy by the time she pulled it together and reached him, a good twenty feet ahead in the tunnel. As he’d said, a sentry waited for them, a man dressed all in black with dark hair and a menacing look, standing in the center of what appeared to be a rock-walled room with tunnels jutting off in different directions. Though he carried a lantern that illuminated their location, Skyla’s Siren senses kicked into high gear. Guns were anchored to both his hips and a knife with a series of jagged teeth was strapped to his thigh. She’d stayed alive all these years by paying attention, and she easily recognized the threat in the man’s eyes as he caught sight of her.

She reached back for her dagger, but Orpheus grabbed her fingers and tugged her close before she grasped it. “Thought you got lost back there. You ready or what?”

She shot him a back off look he didn’t heed. Tried to pull her hand away. Couldn’t wrench it from his grasp.

The sentry gave her another once-over, then motioned with his hand as he turned and headed down a tunnel to their right. “This way.”

Orpheus leaned close to her ear. “Don’t piss them off.”

She didn’t miss his deadly serious tone or the I’m not kidding look in his eyes when he eased back. And her unease at where he was taking them shot up another notch.

Their guide didn’t speak much, and his pace was quicker than theirs. But after a series of turns through a maze of tunnels Skyla was sure she’d never remember, they eventually reached a door at least ten feet high made of solid steel.

The sentry flipped up a piece of what looked like rock on the wall but obviously wasn’t. Underneath, a keypad was backlit by a green glow. He typed in a code, then the door slid open to reveal a room with stone walls, a concrete floor, lockers and cabinets along one whole side, and a man as big as Orpheus standing in the center of the vast space, his hands on his hips, his amber eyes less than thrilled that they’d arrived.

“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you,” the man said.

Orpheus tugged Maelea into the room. Her eyes were wide with fear but she let Orpheus pull her along, didn’t even flinch at the contact. And that irritation that he so obviously cared about Maelea’s safety reared its ugly head all over again in Skyla’s chest.

“It’s nice to see a familiar face,” Orpheus said.

“Uh-huh.” The man turned skeptical amber eyes toward Maelea, then to Skyla. After a long beat of silence that amped Skyla’s already tightly strung nerves, he pushed a button on the wall near an elevator. “From the looks of the three of you, I’m guessing you’ll be needing food and clothes and somewhere to rest.”

“That would be good,” Orpheus said. “We appreciate it.”

The elevator opened with a ping. The man held out his hand, waited while Maelea and Skyla stepped into the car, then followed Orpheus in. He punched a button on the panel, turned, and crossed his arms over his massive chest, locking his stare on Skyla.

He knew who she was. She could see it in those eyes. Only this guy wasn’t just a man. He was something more. He was bigger than Orpheus and that was saying a lot. His blond hair was cropped short and he wore large gauges in his earlobes. And dressed all in black with those guns at his hips, the fingerless gloves, and that long scar down the left side of his face, he screamed threat in every way imaginable.

“Nick,” Orpheus said into the low hum from the elevator, “this is Skyla and Maelea. Ladies, this is Nick Blades, leader of the Misos colony.”

Nick didn’t answer. Didn’t even spare Maelea a glance. And as tension filled the car like a helium balloon inflating, Skyla realized this was one of the few half-breed colonies scattered across the globe. Argolean-human survivors of Atalanta’s war who’d taken refuge together. It was well known on Olympus that Argoleans placed no value on the Misos mixed-breed bloodline and that their past king refused to grant them protection because of societal discrimination. Since Zeus refused to get involved in anything Argolean related, he left them alone as well. Obviously, from the look of bitter contempt in this guy’s eyes, he knew that and thought less of Zeus than he did of the new Argolean queen.

Which meant he thought even less of her.

Her anxiety amped and the weight of the bow in her boot reminded her she needed to be careful.

The elevator door opened. A wall of arched windows looked out over a view that seemed to come straight off a postcard. Blue-green water in every direction, snow-capped mountains surrounding a lake. Even an eagle swooping through the air to catch a fish, then sailing high once more.

Maelea’s eyes grew wide but still she didn’t speak. Skyla turned a slow circle and took in the two-story stone room with its high peaked ceiling, intricate iron chandeliers, multicolored throw rugs, and fancy Russian furnishings.

She’d have bet her throwing stars they were in a castle. But a castle out here? In the middle of a lake? In the center of nowhere? It made no sense.

Footsteps echoed behind them and Skyla turned just as an attractive woman with a slight limp stepped down from the staircase that curved up and to the left.

“This is Helene,” Nick said. “She’ll take you someplace where you can freshen up and relax. Orpheus and I have things to discuss.”

Skyla knew those “things” meant her. “I won’t—”

Orpheus leaned toward her, his hot breath and low voice millimeters from her ear. “Go with Maelea. She’s liable to jump out a window if we aren’t there to stop her.”

When he eased back, Skyla saw the spark of mischief in his eyes, but the tight line of his jaw belied the carefree attitude. And the fact he’d obviously picked up on Nick’s animosity toward her nixed her jealousy and made her that much more determined to stay.

She opened her mouth to tell him just how little she cared about what Maelea did or didn’t do when he mouthed the word please. And just that fast her resistance wavered. As if he had some magical control over her.

“I’ll come find you both when I’m done down here,” Orpheus said.

She felt she shouldn’t go. But she couldn’t seem to say no. She found herself nodding as she stepped away from him.

The female, Helene, smiled and held a hand out to the stairs. “You both look tired. Come. This way.”

Skyla gripped the intricately carved mahogany banister and looked down at Orpheus as she followed Helene and Maelea. The heat of his stare burned into her soul, and as she climbed the stairs she remembered that day at Perseus’s castle when she’d gone to tell Cynurus she’d thought it over and she was ready to leave the Sirens for him.

He’d been with that Arcadian princess, the one his parents had wanted him to marry. She’d walked in on them doing nothing more dastardly than looking over a book together, but Skyla had been devastated, as devastated as if he’d been kissing the woman right in front of her. Never before had she realized the difference in their social status until she saw him with the sort of woman he should be with. He was heir to an entire kingdom and she was nothing…nothing more than an assassin. No royal blood, nothing to offer him except embarrassment when his family found out who and what she was. She wasn’t even a commoner. She was lower than that. She was someone who did Zeus’s dirty work, who killed and schemed and who had only met him because Zeus had targeted him as a nuisance to be dealt with.

Her heart squeezed tight as memories, emotions she’d long buried, came back tenfold. He wasn’t the same man he’d been then but there were similarities, and she was starting to see the things she’d loved about Cynurus in Orpheus. His worry over Maelea, his compassion for humans, though she was sure he’d never cop to it. And then there were the moments when he looked at her the way he was doing now. As if he wanted her the way he had then. As if she was the only female for miles and he was a man who’d been denied far too long.

She had to pull her gaze away, to break the connection before it sucked her under. Head spinning, she realized Helene and Maelea were gone. A quick shot of unease filtered through her before she heard their voices from the stairs above. She picked up her pace and reached them on the next level, where they were walking down a wide corridor lit every few yards or so with ornate sconces on the red-papered walls. Large arched doorways led into rooms she couldn’t see. Beneath her feet, a lush blue rug with tiny white flowers ran down the middle of the hall.

“What is this place?” Skyla asked, interrupting something Helene was telling Maelea.

Helene’s limp was more obvious as she glanced over her shoulder. “The castle was built by a Russian grand duke who sought exile in the United States in the late 1800s. He had it built for his wife, who was Romanian. Unfortunately, they were both killed before they could reach the States, as were their families. Since his wife was also a Misos, the castle fell into the hands of the Russian Misos colony. It sat empty for more than a hundred years. For whatever reason, no one from that colony wanted to relocate here. When our colony in Oregon was destroyed by Atalanta’s daemons, Nick found out this was available, and here we are.”

She stopped in front of a door, turned the knob, and pushed the heavy mahogany mass open so Maelea and Skyla could enter the room.

It was a suite, not a room, with high arching windows, again looking down to the water, and a four-poster bed so big there were steps to climb into it. A fireplace ran along the left wall, a formal couch and high-backed side chairs placed in front of it. And beyond, a doorway Skyla guessed led to a bathroom.

This one room was as big as Skyla’s entire living space back on Olympus. A room clearly made for a princess, not a mere commoner. Definitely not an assassin.

Helene flipped on the lights, illuminating the jewel colors in the furnishings and the thick velvet comforter on the bed. “We were lucky they’d furnished most of the place. Though I have to admit sometimes it can be a little creepy.”

Skyla turned a slow circle and noticed the dainty wallpaper, the heavy curtains, the intricate touches like fancy curved iron grates over the vents and rich cherry hardwood floors.

“The bathroom’s through here.” Helene pushed open a door on the far side of the room. “The suite across the hall is just like this one. You’re welcome to it,” she added for Skyla. “I’ll have the cook send up some food for you both.”

She moved past Skyla to the door. Skyla turned to look after her. “How is it no one’s found this place?”

“Our sentries are good, that’s how. Get some rest. I’m sure Orpheus will be up to see you when he and Nick are done speaking.”

Orpheus.

As the door closed, that space in Skyla’s chest tightened again and the word hero echoed even louder.

How did this female—Helene—know Orpheus? The way she said his name indicated a familiarity. A friendship. She’d sensed the same connection between Orpheus and Nick earlier.

Daemon hybrids didn’t have friends. They were loners. And they didn’t care about others. They didn’t protect them or rescue them from avalanches or worry about what they thought or felt. A lump formed in her throat, a big one that told her everything she knew about the world around her was being shot to hell the longer she spent with him.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

Skyla had nearly forgotten she wasn’t alone. She looked toward Maelea standing near the windows, an I hate this place more than I hate you look on her face.

“Go ahead,” Skyla said, ignoring the look, too frazzled to deal with it right now. “I’ll be here.”

“Of course you will be,” Maelea muttered as she disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

A tiny part of Skyla felt for the girl. She’d lost her home, her anonymity, and Nick obviously wasn’t happy Orpheus had brought her here to the colony, but at least she was alive. If she’d stayed at her house in Seattle, she’d be dead now.

Dead.

The word echoed in Skyla’s mind as she moved to the windows, looked out at the blue-green lake around her quickly fading in the dusk of evening. For so long Cynurus had been dead to her, but he was alive. In Orpheus. Alive and so very close.

Water lapped at the rocky shore. A flock of birds soared far off in the distance. From this view, there was no way to get to the island unless you had a boat or helicopter. And that was good, because it meant surprise was thwarted by the water, the jagged mountains surrounding this lake, and the mass of caves they’d come through to get here. They were safe for the time being. But not safe from the memories bombarding her from all sides. The ones of Cynurus that were mixing with what she’d learned of Orpheus the last few days and the emotions toward him that had nothing to do with the past and everything do with the present.

What if Athena was wrong? What if Orpheus wasn’t the monster they all wanted her to believe he was? What if he was after something that had nothing to do with the Orb? Questions revolved in her mind, but the biggest one—the one that wouldn’t leave her alone and made her heart beat faster—sounded loudest.

What if he really was a hero after all?