Entwined

Chapter Twenty

Callia’s heart felt like it might sprout wings and fly right out of her skin. As Zander lowered his head to her chest and drew in deep, shattering breaths, she thought it just might.

Her body still trembled from the most delicious orgasm; her mind raced with the things he’d told her. In her heart she wanted to believe that even after everything that had happened between them, they might have a future to look forward to.

“Zander,” Callia said gently, running her hands through his hair. “We have to get up.”

“We will,” he mumbled against her neck. “When I can move again.”

Warmth trickled through her when she thought of the reason his body wasn’t working. When she remembered what they’d done. How it had felt. How she wanted to do it all over again. Her muscles instinctively tightened around that glorious part of him still buried deep inside her, and he groaned in response.

“That’s one way to get me moving again.”

She smiled because yeah, sex had never been a problem for them. But even she knew this time it wasn’t just about sex. It was more. She felt it, even if she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

Her smile faded. The real world and their multitude of problems beckoned.

The truth closed in around her, splintering the fantasy she’d been building. Their son was still missing. They’d wasted precious time here, making love, when they should have been searching for him. And to top it off, Isadora—Callia’s half-sister and Zander’s fiancée—was downstairs right this minute, probably wondering what the hell was going on in this very room.

She pushed gently against his shoulders. “I have to get up, Zander. I need to take a shower.”

Slowly, he moved up onto his hands. When he lifted his head, his eyes were sleepy, his hair mussed. And though it made no sense, something about him looked…different. Calmer. More at peace than she’d ever seen him. “Trying to wash me off already?”

She stared at him, tried to pinpoint what it was that had changed in the last few minutes, but couldn’t. They’d made love numerous times before, and yeah, sex relaxed him. But not like this. This was…something else.

When his brow furrowed, she gave herself a mental shake, refocused and slipped out from beneath him. “No, I’m just remembering why I came to the human realm in the first place.”

He rolled to his side to watch her, perched his elbow on the bed and his head on his hand. “How did you get here, anyway?”

She turned a slow circle as she lifted her camisole straps back into place. “I came with Casey and Isadora.”

“All three of you are here? How?”

“We came through a secret portal Isadora knew about.”

“Where?”

“In the mountains.”

His lips turned down. “There are witches in those mountains.”

She caught the disapproval in his voice but somehow knew he wasn’t going to lecture her about her actions. Which didn’t fit. Because Zander always told everyone what he wanted them to do.

Weird.

She glanced around, again wondered what had changed in him and why, but was distracted when she spotted her clothes. She stooped to pick them up. “The others are probably wondering where we are. I don’t think it would be a good idea to go back downstairs smelling like sex after they knew I was coming up to tear into you. And I especially don’t want to smell like your sex in front of Isadora.”

She spotted the bathroom and headed that way. “I’ll be quick,” she said over her shoulder.

She closed the bathroom door and took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking, her nerves a hot coil beneath her skin. Quickly she flipped on the shower, stripped the camisole over her head and stepped beneath the hot spray.

The heat immediately relaxed her. She closed her eyes, tipped her head back so the water hit at her chest. Tried not to let her brain wander, but even she knew it was inevitable. The pain at what her father had revealed stole her breath. She ducked her face under the water. The memory morphed into her conversation with Casey and Isadora, then coming here to find Zander, and her taking out all her anger and frustration over everything on him.

She wasn’t going to do this again. Wasn’t going to fall into the same mistakes she’d made before. He’d loved her? Did it even matter anymore? The only thing that mattered now was finding their son. The rest of it—her heart pinched—the rest was not important.

Cool air washed over her, and too late she realized the shower door had opened and closed while she’d been caught in her musings. She whipped around to see Zander moving under the spray toward her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I decided your shower was a good idea.”

Panic pushed at her chest. She stepped backward in an attempt to get away, but he seemed to eat up all the space in the small stall. “Okay, then wait outside. I’ll be done in a minute.”

Amusement crossed his handsome face. “Why are you all of a sudden shy? I’ve seen you naked before, thea.”

“I’m not shy,” she said, stepping back again. Her spine hit the tile wall. “I just like my privacy, that’s all. I said I’d be done in a minute. Then the shower’s all yours.”

“I like sharing with you.” He reached for her arm.

She rolled her shoulder to avoid his grasp. “Zander, please.” That panic clawed its way up her throat. She shifted her back more solidly against the wall. “Just wait outside.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

His fingers moved to her upper arm. “Callia, turn around.”

She dug her heels in. Stared at his broad chest and the water running down his tanned skin in rivulets. “No.”

He tugged on her am, and even though she knew it was useless, she resisted. He pulled her around easily, though, until her back was plastered to his front and his arms were around her, locking her in. “That’s better, isn’t it?” he whispered in her ear.

No. Water sprayed onto her chest and shoulders again. She closed her eyes. Wanted so badly just to forget the last ten years ever existed. But she couldn’t. “Zander, please—”

“I saw the scars when you were injured,” he said softly. “You don’t have to be afraid for me to see them.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

She squeezed her eyes, wished she could have avoided this conversation altogether. “They’re…they’re not something I like people to see. They’re ugly.”

He dropped his lips to her shoulder. Kissed her gently. “Nothing about you could ever be ugly.” As he lifted his head, he loosed his grasp, eased back, and she knew by the way her skin tingled that he was looking at her scars. Even though they’d faded to nothing more than thin white lines, she still felt them. Every day. And she knew what they looked like. “When I think about what they did to you—”

“They didn’t do anything I didn’t ask for. It was my choice.”

His silence confirmed what she knew he was feeling. And okay, yeah. This was why she didn’t want to be having this conversation. That pain she lived with every day, the pain she pushed down so she could get by, came thundering back.

“I—No one forced me, Zander.” This, at least, she wanted to make sure he understood. “I volunteered for the cleansing ritual.”

“Why?” he asked in a shocked voice.

It made so much more sense in her head than it ever would in words. “Because it seemed like the right thing to do. Because—I thought—I owed my father for risking his position to take care of me. Because…” She shrugged, looked down at the strong arms still wrapped around her. “I wanted to forget.”

He was silent so long, she thought he hadn’t heard her. Then he dropped his forehead against the side of her head and whispered, “Thea.”

Thea. The word twisted the knife in her heart. Why couldn’t she let him go? After all this time? Even now, when she was smart enough to know they had absolutely no future together and that this—them—was destructive, why wasn’t she letting him go like she should?

“This,” he said, letting go of her waist with one arm and drawing his hand to her back. “This is mine now.” He laid his palm over her scars, and warmth gathered beneath his skin, spreading into hers as he spoke. “I can’t make you forget, but I can take away the burden. It’s mine, thea. Not yours.”

His heat warmed the coldest space inside her, but she shook her head. “You don’t understand. I didn’t want to forget what happened, Zander. I wanted to forget you. I wanted to forget how I felt about you.”

Silence fell between them. Tension turned the air thick.

“Is this your way of telling me you finally did?” he whispered.

“No. I didn’t. I never have. That’s the problem. It didn’t work.” Tears—hot tears she’d tried to keep back—burned her eyes. “Pain isn’t freeing. It’s just one more reminder of what you’ve lost. And now all I have are these ugly scars. That’s what I’ll have when this is all over. Whether we find our son or not. After you bind yourself to—”

She closed her mouth when she realized how bitter she sounded. Wished like hell she’d just kept her mouth shut. Or kept her camisole firmly in place.

He turned her in his arms until the water hit at her spine and his fingers ran through her wet hair, tipping her face up to his. “Thea, open your eyes.”

She did, and saw all the same emotions she felt reflected back in his eyes. His silver eyes, no longer stormy and gray but shimmering and surrounded by a halo of clear blue.

“Zander, your eyes…”

“I’m not binding myself to Isadora. When this is over you’ll have me. I’m yours, for as long as you want me. Even if you don’t want me anymore, I’m still yours. I only volunteered to marry Isadora because I thought I’d lost you. If I’d known there was a chance we would end up here, do you think I would have made that agreement?”

He took her hand before she could answer, placed it over his chest until she felt the rhythmic thump of his heart beneath her palm. Then he took her other hand and placed it over her own heart. “Do you feel that?” he asked. “We’re linked together, you and me. This goes deeper than the fact that I love you. It’s more than just you being my soul mate. This is about us and the reason I’ve never been able to let go of you either.” He moved in closer, and warmth closed around her as she felt her heart beating in time with his. “There’s more, thea. No matter what happens today, tomorrow, there’s more ahead for us. You are my life. This story doesn’t end here. Not unless we let it.”

His words touched her more than his earlier admission that he’d once loved her. Tears spilled out over her eyelashes, tracked down her cheeks before she could stop them. Gently, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. Once. Twice. As softly as if he were touching the most fragile glass. “Thea,” he whispered against her mouth. “Don’t let this end here.”

Oh, gods. She’d always been powerless against him. He was right; the connection he spoke of was deeper than even she understood. And she was so tired of fighting it. Of fighting this. Them. What she’d always wanted.

Her lips moved under his as she kissed him back. And even though a small voice in the back of her head warned this was wrong, that eventually she’d get hurt again, that things never worked out for her, she couldn’t help herself. She twined her arms around his neck, tipped her head, rose on her toes as she tasted him and he tugged her close so they were locked tight together, chest to hip. He groaned into her mouth, changed the angle of the kiss, nudged her back toward the shower wall. Water sprayed up around them as his hand ran down her backside to draw her closer still.

“Thea. I can’t get enough of you.”

She couldn’t get enough of him either. She rose up, kissed his nose, his cheek, his mouth all over again. And though she knew the others were downstairs, that they were probably talking strategy, that she and Zander needed to be there, right now she just needed him.

She lifted her leg, slid her thigh up his to hook around his hip so he could settle between her legs. “Zander…”

The low growl in his throat told her he needed the same thing. He nipped at her earlobe as he pushed his hips playfully against hers. “Thea…”

The door to the bathroom opened with a slap of wood against wall. Zander stiffened, dropped her leg and moved his body in front of hers so whoever came through couldn’t see her.

“Shit, Z. There you are.”

Callia recognized Titus’s voice even though she couldn’t see around Zander’s broad shoulders.

“Get the hell out of here, Titus,” Zander growled.

“Oh, crap.” Shoes squeaked on the tile floor, and then Titus’s voice came out muffled, as if he’d turned away. “I didn’t expect you to be so, ah, dirty that you’d need more than one shower.” Humor filled Titus’s voice. “Hey, Callia.”

Zander’s scowl deepened as he looked down at her, and for some reason, the absurdity of the situation lightened Callia’s mood. “Hey, Titus.”

Zander rolled his eyes. “Okay, you’ve had your fun, Titus. Now get the fuck out.”

Callia studied Zander, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Though he was clearly irritated with Titus’s interruption, there was no heat behind the words. And that temper that seemed to come and go with him was nowhere to be seen.

She focused on his newly silver irises.

“I will,” Titus said, sobering. “But I thought you both might want to know. Nick’s scouts brought in a human. A trucker they found up in the northern country. Daemon attack. He’s badly injured, but he’s mumbling something about a boy who helped him get away. One he picked up hitchhiking in British Columbia.”

Callia’s smile faded, and a strange sense of foreboding raced through her chest. She knew Zander felt it as well, by the way his expression hardened.

Zander turned to look through the frosted glass toward Titus, careful to keep his body between hers and Titus’s. And when he did, Callia spotted the scars on his upper back. Thin, faded white lines. Ones she was sure hadn’t been there when she’d operated on him. Ones that were eerily familiar.

Wait a minute. What the heck is going on here?

“How old?” Zander asked.

“About ten.”

Titus’s answer was all she heard. Callia’s eyes darted from the scars on Zander’s back to his face when he turned. It couldn’t be…

“And Z,” Titus added, “get ready for this. The guy…the human? He says the kid had markings on his arms. Markings that look just like ours.”

Urgency pushed at Zander as he and Callia headed down the long corridor. After Titus left, they’d quickly dressed. Callia hadn’t spoken, but her nerves showed on her face, and he felt her anxiety all the way to his bones.

His boots echoed as they descended the stairs to the main level and turned to the back stairs that ran down to the medical clinic deep beneath the lodge itself. As the colony was built into large caverns hidden deep in the Cascade Mountains, the air was cool. Candles every ten feet lit the space to save power, and the rock absorbed all sound, making it seem deserted.

At the bottom of the stairs, Callia turned left toward the conference rooms where Nick plotted war strategy with his soldiers, but Zander tugged on her hand, still tucked tightly into his. “They’re this way.”

“How do you know? I left them down here.”

“Because the medical facility is this direction.”

Her expression was easy to read. The crease between her eyebrows said she didn’t understand how he would know that. And when her face softened, he knew she’d figured out he’d been here when she was injured. And that he hadn’t left her side.

Which was weird because she’d been a closed book the whole time they were together. He’d never known what she was thinking. What she was feeling. But now she was finally letting him in.

“I think,” she said softly, “I never thanked you for saving my life.”

He moved forward to brush the hair back from her face and press a kiss to her forehead. “I will make this right, thea.” He tipped her chin with his finger. “No matter what happens, believe that.”

Resolve settled in her eyes. She breathed deep. Nodded.

He squeezed her hand and led her to the medical rooms. Mumbled voices echoed their way as they turned a corner. Ahead a doorway to the left was open, fluorescent light spilling into the dark corridor. Theron’s broad shoulders filled the space just inside the door.

The leader of the Argonauts turned when he heard their footsteps. “Z.” His questioning dark eyes flicked briefly to Callia as Zander pulled her into the room after him, but Zander didn’t let go of her hand. “We were just about to send a search party out for you.”

“Where is he?” Zander asked, ignoring Theron’s sarcasm. He looked toward another open door on the right wall. The sounds of machinery whirring and beeping met his ears.

“In the other room,” Titus said. “The colony’s healer is with him.”

“I want to see him,” Callia said. “Maybe I can help.”

Zander glanced her way, then back at Titus. “Is he conscious?”

Theron nodded. “He was earlier.”

Callia let go of Zander’s hand and headed across the room. Zander followed through a doorway that led into a high-tech hospital room.

Wires and tubes ran from the man’s arms to machines behind his bed. An oxygen mask covered his face, and bandages were wrapped around just about every exposed piece of skin on his body. Judging from the amount of damage, the guy was lucky to be alive.

Callia moved closer to the bed. Nick stood on one side looking down at the human while Lena checked the machines on the other side.

“How’s he doing?”

Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “How would you be doing after being someone’s lunch?”

Lena flicked Nick a withering look. Then glanced at Callia. “He’s stable. For now. But I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to talk to him. He just dropped off, and the drugs have hit him hard. Even if he could talk, nothing he has to say would be any help to you now.”

Frustration washed over Callia’s features. “What did he say happened? What about the boy?”

Pity crept into Nick’s amber eyes. “He picked the kid up somewhere in British Columbia. They parked it at a truck stop just over the summit of Mount Hood.” He glanced Zander’s way. “There’s a small Misos settlement there, so we patrol the region. Somehow it looks like they walked in on an attack.”

“What happened to the boy?” Callia asked. “Was the boy with him?”

The panic in her voice clawed at Zander. He stepped up behind her, placed his hands on her upper arms.

“From what my soldiers got out of him,” Nick said, “the kid told him the monsters were there for him.”

Callia turned and shot Zander a look, and in her eyes he saw the same thing he felt. Fear. Urgency. The last threads of hope. Except he had a dark feeling he knew where this was going.

“So he got away,” Callia said, twisting back to Nick. “The boy got free?”

“No,” Zander answered before Nick could, his heart dropping. The feeling that Nick was more closely linked to the Argonauts than anyone understood washed through Zander as he read the truth on the scarred half-breed’s face.

“You can’t know for sure,” Callia protested. “It’s possible he escaped while the daemons went after this man.”

“No,” Zander said again, hating to hurt her more but needing—now—to be honest with her. “If it was him, Callia, if it was our son, he wouldn’t have run. He wouldn’t have left this human vulnerable.”

She glared up at him. “How do you know? He’s just a boy. He’s just—”

“He’s an Argonaut. It’s bred into him.” Zander glanced toward Theron and Titus, who had followed them into the room. Toward the doorway where Gryphon, Phineus and Cerek had gathered to see what was going on. And he thought of his own SOB father. To the way he himself had been as a child. To how he’d been raised. Trained. To that instinct he’d never been able to get away from.

“We were all more advanced than the average youngling. You can teach an Argonaut to be a warrior. You can beat out his emotions, take away his dreams and train him to be a killer. And if this was our son, if he was really with Ata-lanta, then I’m guessing that’s exactly what she did. But she wouldn’t have been able to alter his instinct. It’s as much a part of him as his hair and eyes and skin. If he somehow got free from her, if he was with this human when the daemons attacked, he’d have fought. And he would have protected.”

Tears gathered in Callia’s eyes. She turned and looked at the human lying motionless on the bed. And the grief radiating from her filled Zander’s head and heart and soul.

No one spoke as she looked around the room, as if in a daze. The only sounds were the beeps and whirs of the machines. Slowly she eased out of Zander’s grip, moved across the floor and stopped at a chair where a small jacket was tossed over an arm.

“Is this…was this his?”

“The human was holding that when they brought him in,” Lena said softly. “Whatever personal items we took off him are there.”

Callia lifted the jacket to her face, drew in a deep breath. The jacket was ripped and shredded, covered in blood and grime and streaked with green, but she didn’t seem to care. She closed her eyes, lowered it and clutched it to her chest. And that was all Zander could take. Because his heart was breaking too. Minutes ago they’d been so hopeful, and now…

He moved around the bed, turned her so he could cradle her against his chest while she cried. Whispered voices sounded behind him but he didn’t care what the others were saying. Sobs racked her body as he pulled her close, the jacket pressed between them. He didn’t even have the strength to pray this wasn’t exactly what he thought. Because he knew. Some sixth sense inside him said this coat belonged to his son. And his son had somehow saved this human.

“Thea…”

Tear tracks stained her cheeks as she lifted her head. She opened her mouth to say something, moved the jacket between them. Then froze. Slowly, her brow furrowed.

“What?” he asked.

She pulled her hand from inside the coat. The fluorescent lights above reflected off a circular silver disk in her hand that looked tarnished from time and weather. A heavy chain attached to one side slipped through her fingers. Four empty chambers composed most of the body, but in the center was a small circle stamped with the seal of the Titans.

“Holy Hera,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened. “That looks like—”

“The Orb of Krónos,” Theron said in wonder from across the room.

Zander and Callia both glanced toward Theron, who was staring at the disk with wide eyes himself. Next to him, Casey and Isadora both stood silently, also transfixed by the medallion in Callia’s hand.

Zander hadn’t heard either of the females step into the room, but as he took in Isadora’s new appearance—the short hair, the new clothes, the questions on her face as her gaze bounced between him and Callia—guilt snaked through him. He needed to talk to the princess, explain to her what had happened. Tell her he couldn’t go through with the binding ceremony after all. And just where that would leave the monarchy, he wasn’t sure. But if this—he glanced back at the disk in Callia’s hand—if this was what he thought it was, then even that didn’t much matter right now.

“Okay,” Casey said cautiously. “You’re all looking at that thing like it’s the Antichrist. Could someone please fill in this clueless Misos?”

Theron pulled Casey to his side, shaken out of his trance by her voice. “Krónos was the father of Zeus, Hades and Poseidon. A Titan. The Titans were—”

“The ruling deities before the Olympian gods took over,” Casey finished for him. “Yeah, I know my mythology. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s just another myth,” Nick said.

Theron shot the half-breed a look. “Myths are usually rooted in reality. And this—don’t you think, warrior?—proves the point.”

Nick frowned, shifted his legs wider in a defensive stance. Sensing the tension in the room, Zander said to Casey, “According to the legend, when Krónos realized Zeus and his brothers were going to overthrow them, he created the orb.” He nodded toward the disk. “He poured into it the Chthonic powers, those of this world, and the four classic elements—air, water, fire, earth. Before the last battle of the Titanomachy, the war between the Titans and Olympians, he gave the orb to Prometheus for safe keeping. And he instructed him to use it only if the situation turned dire.”

Casey’s eyebrows pulled together. “But Prometheus was a Titan, wasn’t he?”

“He was,” Isadora said, speaking up. “But he didn’t participate in the war, and he and a few others weren’t condemned to Tartarus with the other Titans. When the war was over, Zeus had the losing Titans locked in the lower levels of Tartarus where they would be tortured for all eternity.”

“And Prometheus didn’t use the orb to unlock them,” Casey guessed.

“No,” Theron said to her. “Prometheus was a champion for humankind. He didn’t want to see any of the gods with the orb. He scattered the four elements over the earth, and according to the legend, he hid the empty orb someplace where Zeus and his brothers could never find it.”

“Something of great value,” Callia muttered, looking at the disk in her hand. “He hid it in the Aegis Mountains. In Argolea.”

Zander glanced at the disk in her hand. Even he could feel the raw power radiating from the ancient metal. If their son had had this when he faced the daemons, it was possible he would have had the strength to escape after all.

His eyes lifted to Callia’s. And he saw then that she was suddenly clinging to the same hope.

“Okay, you lost me there,” Casey said, letting go of Theron and moving to stand in front of Callia. “Why would Prometheus hide it?”

“Because, according to the legend,” Isadora explained, “the person who wears the orb with the elements intact not only has the power to release the Titans from Tartarus, but he has the power to control this world as well.”

Realization dawned over Casey’s face. “She’s using it to get around the prophecy.” She looked at Isadora, then at Zander. “Is that what you’re telling me? If Atalanta has this orb, and the four elements inside, she has the power to control the human realm?”

“Yeah,” Zander said. “And the human realm is the one realm the gods haven’t been able to control. The skies, the Underworld, the seas…those are theirs. But the human realm has forever been off limits. As long as she has the orb, she’s immortal again, and more powerful than any of them. And if anyone challenges her”—he glanced at his guardian kinsmen, standing near Theron on the other side of the room, all tense because they knew just what this little thing could do—“she can unleash the Titans, which would then start a war like no one’s ever seen before.”

“Oh, God,” Casey whispered, looking down at the orb. “So I guess it’s a good thing she doesn’t have it, huh? But I still don’t understand how it got from Argolea to your son.” She looked up and around, questions in her eyes.

Isadora focused on the orb. “It had to have been smuggled out. Someone must have found it.” Her jaw clenched. “Orpheus.”

“That little piece of shit,” Nick muttered from across the room.

“It doesn’t matter how it got out,” Theron said. “If the boy had it, he must have gotten it from Atalanta.”

“He stole it,” Callia said softly, looking up at Zander. “That’s why he was with this human. That’s why the daemons were hunting him.”

Yeah, he’d figured that out as well. And that’s why they would kill him as soon as they found him. If they hadn’t already.

“Hold on.” Isadora’s voice drew Zander’s attention. “There’s a catch. Atalanta can’t wield the orb on her own.”

“Why not?” Casey asked.

“Because in her god form she’s considered an Olympian, not a Titan. In order for any Olympian—even one of the Twelve—to wield it, they have to have a key. They have to have something from both the human world and their realm. They have to have—”

“They have to have someone who is half god, half human, perfectly balanced,” Casey finished for her, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Isadora said softly, realization dawning in her eyes as she glanced at her half-sisters. “Now it makes sense, the markings we share. The Horae were all about balance and timing and order. Casey and I, as the Chosen, are that perfect half-god, half-human, but we’re not balanced without you, Callia.”

“So she needs one of us to wield the orb,” Callia whispered.

“Yes,” Isadora breathed. “Or one of our offspring. And since Casey and I don’t have young yet…”

Callia reached up and touched the marking on the back of her neck. “She came after mine.”

Isadora nodded. “Atalanta didn’t steal your son because his father was an Argonaut. She stole him because she knew what you were before any of us did. Because our father, the king, is somehow linked to Themis, the Titan who spawned the Horae, and we are too. And she needs one of us”—she glanced at each of her sisters—“or one of our offspring to help her get what she really wants.”

Callia’s eyes darted to Zander. “Then she won’t kill him.”

“Wait,” Zander said, sensing her excitement but not wanting to get their hopes up again. “If what Isadora said is true, if you three really are the modern-day Horae, Hours, whatever, and she needs you to wield the orb, then why didn’t she just take you that day? And how did she even find you both in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” Callia said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how she found us, but she wouldn’t have taken me, because a child is easier to manipulate than a thirty-year-old Argolean who’s dedicated her life to the monarchy. She’d have known I never would have helped her. I’d have chosen death first.”

“And maybe she didn’t have the orb at the time,” Casey added. When they all looked her way, she said, “Ten years ago Atalanta was still immortal. She was still in Tartarus, building her army, right? You’ve all said she’s a schemer, that she’s constantly searching for ways to exact her revenge. If that’s the case, then it makes sense she’d have backup plans. In case the prophecy did come to pass.” She looked at Isadora. “In case we found each other and she was rendered mortal after all. She’d have been planning other ways to get exactly what she wants.”

“Which is revenge,” Theron said from across the room. His jaw hardened. “The females need to go back to Argolea. Now.”

“What?” The sisters all turned to look his way.

“Theron…,” Casey started.

“I won’t go back, Zander.” Callia turned. “I have a right to be here.”

She did. But Theron was right too. If Atalanta had lost his son, then she’d have no qualms about taking one or all of the sisters while she figured out a way to get the orb back. It wasn’t safe for any of them to be in the human realm.

“The females have a point, hero,” Nick said from where he stood near the bed.

Theron glared at the half-breed leader. “Stuff it, Nick. This doesn’t concern you.”

Nick’s jaw twitched. “Actually, it does, smart-ass. Probably more than the rest of you, because my people fucking live here, while you all hide off in never-never land.” He looked toward Callia, Isadora and Casey. “You ladies can stay at the colony for as long as you want. You have safe haven here.”

“Sonofabitch,” Theron growled. “Nick—”

Nick glanced at Isadora. “There’s more to the legend, isn’t there? Tell them the rest of it.”

Isadora’s eyes darted sideways. And in her irritated expression it was clear she didn’t like Nick. Or the fact he was telling her what to do. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But she did. Even Zander could see that.

They didn’t have time for this bickering. Zander turned his full attention on Nick. “Can you get me to the truck stop where your soldiers found the human?”

“Chopper will be the fastest way to get there,” Nick said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “We’ve got one at the airstrip, just outside Silver Hills. I can radio ahead and have it fired up.”

“Good.” Plans materialized in Zander’s mind. From the corner of his eye he saw Callia’s exasperated expression, felt her frustration. But he ignored it. He was heading into attack mode, and this time it wasn’t just duty, it was personal.

“One question,” Nick asked. “What the hell can one Argonaut do against a horde of daemons?”

“He’s not just one,” Theron announced. “If Atalanta’s got one of our own, we’re all going.”

“And me,” Callia said.

Zander didn’t look over. “No.”

“I—”

“Not this time, thea.” Adrenaline pulsing with the prospect of what lay ahead, he focused on Nick. “We’ll need maps of the terrain. Fresh weapons. And your best guess where you think she could be hiding out with my son.”

“Done. But you’re gonna need more than that, hero. Something tells me you’re gonna need the favor of the fucking gods.”