Bound

Chapter Three

The sands of time were sifting through the hourglass faster than he liked. And every second he had to sit here waiting for this melding of the minds to begin, the more he had to fight the urge to rip someone’s fucking toenails out one by one.

Hades tapped his fingers on the armrest of the uncomfortable chair and stared across the gilded room toward his brother Zeus, whose head was currently tipped to the side as he shared hushed words with one of his bow and arrow-wielding, Barbie doll Sirens. At the moment, he’d like to rip Zeus’s toenails out just to hear the fucker scream. What the bloody hell were they whispering about? And where in all hellfire was Poseidon?

Probably off fucking a sea nymph, knowing the son of a bitch. And most likely, not his wife. A frown turned Hades’s lips as his thoughts strayed to his own wife. He couldn’t help but wonder where she was right this minute. And with whom.

He hadn’t seen Persephone in weeks. As per his agreement with her father, she spent half the year on Olympus and half with him in the Underworld. The few times she’d escaped to meet him in the human world during their latest separation weren’t enough. He needed to see her again soon. Not simply because he wanted to string her up and ravage that sinful body, but because he needed to keep a close eye on her. His wife was as twisted and manipulative as he. And she wanted the Orb of Krónos just much as he did—maybe more.

The heavy door to the right pushed open, and Poseidon, the sea god, strolled into the massive room as if he owned the joint.

Day like all days…

The Siren straightened and stepped back, but a look passed between her and Zeus before she left the room. A look that said the King of Gods was up to something.

Zeus flashed his thousand-watt smile, the one Hades wanted to rip from his face. “Adelfos, I was about to send my Sirens to search for you.”

Bullshit.

“No reason to worry about me,” Poseidon answered, crossing the floor, his long legs eating up the space, his blond surfer hair blowing around his face as he moved. “Got tied up with business. Humans are always causing trouble, dumping crap and chemicals in my waters. Not to mention the creatures that need to be regulated, the storms that have to be redirected. Overseeing the world’s oceans isn’t as easy as, say—“he turned his blinding blue gaze Hades’s way—“simply sorting souls.”

Venom built in Hades’s veins. The same raging fury he always felt when he was face-to-face with his pissant brothers. His condescending, kiss-my-ass brothers who’d taken the best parts of the earth and tossed him what was left: the fucking Underworld.

He tamped down the resentment, knowing he needed to stay focused so he could get this meet-and-greet over and move on to more important matters.

“Perhaps, brother,” he said, glancing at his long fingers against the mahogany armrest, “humans wouldn’t shit in your home if you took your dick out of those sea nymphs long enough to pay attention to what they’re doing.”

Poseidon’s blue eyes turned icy, and a vein pulsed in his temple. “Why you little piece of—”

“Boys, boys, boys.” Zeus sighed. “I didn’t call you both here so you could get into a pissing match. We have a serious matter to discuss.”

The King of the Gods waited until both Poseidon and Hades redirected their attention his way. “The queen of Argolea has the Orb of Krónos and two of the four elements she needs to release our father from Tartarus. I don’t have to tell you what that kind of power, in the hands of someone so inexperienced and simple, would do to the balance of the world.”

It’d fuck you over good.

Hades kept the thought to himself while Poseidon dropped into the chair to his right. Though Hades didn’t want to see the Orb controlled by an Argolean, the thought of the Little Queen pulling one over on his good-for-nothing brothers made him want to smile.

“We need to get to the other two elements before they do,” Zeus went on. “It’s time we put aside history and our petty differences and unite our powers.”

What the fuck? Hades’s gaze narrowed on Zeus. The King of the Gods never did anything unless it directly benefited him alone. Hades wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the look that passed between that Siren and Zeus.

“Even if we find the last two elements,” Poseidon said, “how do you plan to get the Orb? You just said the Argoleans already have it.”

Zeus pushed out of his chair and crossed to the wide window that looked out over Olympus, a frown line forming between his brows. The Orb of Krónos was their father’s get-out-of-jail-free card. During the Titanomachy, the war between the Olympians and the Titans, their father, Krónos, had ordered Prometheus to craft the Orb in the event he was captured. Prometheus, a Titan himself, had used the power of the four classic elements and created a disk-shaped object that held the strength to release Krónos from his prison. But Prometheus had never used it. Not after the Olympians had won and they’d locked their father in the pits of Tartarus. Not even after all these thousands of years.

No, Prometheus had always had a soft spot for humans and was afraid of what Krónos would do to the world in retaliation. So instead of handing the Orb over to the Olympians for safekeeping, the bastard had scattered the elements over the earth then hidden the Orb in Argolea—the one realm the Olympian gods couldn’t cross into.

Hades had to admire the smart play. Though Zeus had created the realm of Argolea for his son Heracles and his descendants, he’d blocked the Olympians from entry, mostly to keep the Argonauts safe from Hera’s vengeance. But he’d also done it as an act of good faith—so his son and all Argoleans could rule themselves. But now that detail had backfired big-time on the King of the Gods. Hades agreed that the power of the Orb couldn’t be trusted in the hands of any Olympian, least of all his power-hungry brothers. But in another lucky turn of events—Hades wasn’t considered an Olympian, and the realm of Argolea wasn’t closed to him.

“There are ways,” Zeus said, staring out at the view. “Ways we can discuss later.” He turned from the window to face them, and whatever worry was previously etched into his features cleared. “What we need to focus on are the two remaining elements.”

Double bullshit. “What would you have us do, oh great King of the Gods?”

Zeus turned his dark gaze Hades’s way, and his cold stare clearly conveyed his displeasure over Hades’s mockery. “I would have you focus your hellhounds and underlings on finding the water element before it’s lost for good, adelfos.”

“And what of fire?”

“Leave that to Poseidon. He and I have already discussed…options.”

A smug look crossed Poseidon’s face. The two were in league together. That realization only infuriated Hades more. Though it shouldn’t have surprised him. “Isn’t fire more my expertise?”

“Not this time.”

Yeah, they were definitely up to something. Hades looked from face to face. “Assuming we do find the last two elements, why then, dear brother, do we need you?”

“Because with our resources pooled, we’ll be able find the elements faster together than we ever could alone.”

There was something more, though. Hades felt it in the pit of his stomach. Some trump card Zeus was holding back.

A self-righteous smile spread across Zeus’s face, almost as if the bastard had read his mind. “And because I hold Prometheus.”

“That’s not exactly a surprise,” Hades countered. “Prometheus has been chained, what…? Over three thousand years? And after all that torture, the Titan has yet to tell you where he hid the elements. What makes you think he’ll cooperate now?”

“I don’t need him to cooperate,” Zeus said. “I just need his daughter to cooperate.”

His daughter…

A chill spread down Hades’s spine. He’d heard rumors of a child, but after all this time with no sign or mention of her, he’d thought she was mere myth. Prophecy said Prometheus’s child would lead to the downfall of the Olympian king—yet another reason Zeus had imprisoned Prometheus, so he could never procreate. But if what Zeus said was true, if Prometheus did have a daughter somewhere, and if Hades could find her first, it meant this whole game could be over much sooner than even Hades had planned. And it meant not only could Hades take control of the human realm like he wanted, but he could grind Zeus to dust in the process and claim Olympus for himself.

Excitement reverberated through his veins. Now, more than ever, it was imperative he get to Persephone and their son, Zagreus, before anyone else.

Careful not to show enthusiasm, Hades tipped his head and worked to keep the bite in his words when he said, “And where, oh great and glorious Grand Pooh-Bah, are you going to look for this mystery daughter?”

“That,” Zeus said, leaning back against the windowsill, “is my worry, not yours. You just focus on finding the water element.”

They were sending him on a wild-goose chase. Hades could feel it. He didn’t know why, but he was certain they were plotting to use Prometheus’s daughter for something cataclysmic.

Hades wasn’t about to let them win.

“Are you in or out, adelfos?” Zeus’s eyes sharpened. “Think carefully, because the choice you make now could change your life for good.”

Hades didn’t need to think twice. He already knew exactly what he wanted. And whose back he was going to stab to get it.

One side of his mouth curled into a vicious smile. “I’m already there, brother mine.”

She was back. He hadn’t imagined her after all.

“Skata…” Titus pushed his muscles into gear and climbed faster. He couldn’t lose her now. He reached for the top of the wall. A loud, cracking sound echoed through the courtyard.

Oh…fuck.

Fucktastic. Where the hell had that come from? As if he weren’t in enough shit already?

His gaze darted to the right. She—Natasa—was tying off the other end to the parapet. When she finished with the knot, she glanced his way, winked, then took off at a run.

Bloody hell...

Titus’s nerves hummed as he moved past doors and scanned offices on the second floor of the castle. The guardians had been dispatched to do a thorough yet quiet search of the premises. With the Council milling around downstairs and all of Argolea in the streets outside, this was not the time to have a spy sent by the Prince of Darkness fucking around.

Shit, he had not seen that one coming. He pushed open a door, glanced around the empty meeting room, and moved on. She worked for Zagreus? How had he missed that? He passed through a sitting area and into a small kitchen, also empty. Perching his hands on his hips, he turned a slow circle and took in the room.

Zagreus… It explained a lot, though. Like why she was searching for Maelea, why she was asking questions about Prometheus, why she was able to block his ability to read her mind, why, even, Maelea had sensed some great power within her. Dark power, obviously. A frown turned his lips as he eyed the table and chairs in the middle of the kitchen. But it didn’t explain why he could touch her and not feel anything.

Movement outside the window over the sink caught his attention. He whipped that way just as something landed with a thud on the veranda.

A body pushed to full height, and his adrenaline surged. Fire-red hair blew in the breeze, and eyes—sparkling, emerald-green eyes—peered his way through the glass.

It was her. Natasa. Alive in front of him as if he’d conjured her.

Titus lurched into the sitting area and raced for the french doors that led to the balcony. Chants from the crowd growing impatient on the other side of the castle walls filled the air. The fresh scents of sea and salt wafted around him. His pulse raced while he scanned the empty balcony.

Where the hell…?

A thud echoed up to his ears. Followed by a voice, shouting, “Hey? Where did you come from?”

He rushed to the railing and looked down. A gardener holding pruning shears in his hand stood between rows of roses, staring after a redhead who was halfway across the courtyard. A redhead racing straight for the trellises covered in purple-flowered vines that climbed the castle wall.

Holy Hades, who was this female?

“Stop her!” he hollered, already tossing his legs over the railing and dropping to the ground. Normally, since they were in Argolea, he could flash wherever the hell he needed to go. But he still wasn’t back to one-hundred percent after his recent injuries. And flashing was one of those things you needed to be in tip-top shape to perform.

She slowed and looked back. And then their gazes met. Fire flashed in the depths of her eyes. Fire and determination and a come-and-get-me challenge no man could resist.

“Signal the guards,” he yelled at the gardener. “And alert the queen.”

He didn’t have time to contact Theron and the others. If he let this female out of his sight, he had a strong hunch he’d never see her again.

And aside from the fact she was working for the enemy, had infiltrated their realm, and had somehow gotten past the castle’s security, something in his gut told him he had to see her again. Needed to…for reasons even he didn’t totally understand.

She was already at the top of the trellis—at least thirty feet up in the air—by the time he reached the base, moving as smoothly as a seasoned cat burglar. She pulled herself up to the wall walk, turned and looked down. Grasping the trellis in his hands, Titus paused his hasty climb. The wind blew silky curls back from her face, and sunlight highlighted her creamy features. But it was the victory that flashed in her eyes that did him in. A victory that turned one side of her lips up in the sexiest smile and caused his heart to skip a beat with both awe and arousal.

“Wait—”

A dog barked. Voices echoed at his back. She jerked her head up to look toward the castle, and her smile faded. Those eyes grew hard and focused. Before he could reach her, she took off at a run across the castle wall.

Every muscle in his body froze.

Another crack.

He slapped the palm of his left hand against the wall walk and managed to hurl his right forearm over the edge. The trellis gave beneath his feet. Wood splintered and fractured. The entire section pulled from the wall and slammed to the ground.

Sweat slicked his skin. Muscles in his arms burned as he held his weight on the edge of the wall. He might be part hero, but he didn’t have Theron’s superhuman strength. And though he knew if he fell it likely wouldn’t kill him, it would definitely shatter his legs, sidelining him for he didn’t know how long. More time in a freaking hospital bed was not his idea of a good time.

A scream echoed. From his peripheral vision, he saw an eagle, diving straight for him.

He ground his teeth, grunted, and pulled himself up. The eagle swooped low, screeched with a shrill that echoed off the inside of his skull, almost nailed him in the head then took off for the sky at the last second. Titus’s fingers slipped. His legs swung out away from the wall. The weight of his body jerked on his arms.

Something soft brushed against his hand. He looked up to see the end of a rope resting near his fingers.

He grasped the rope and pulled himself up. Chest heaving, he threw his leg over the ledge and climbed to his knees. He dragged air into his lungs then cursed the injury that had left him weak.

His gaze strayed down the walk in the direction Natasa had run. She stood at the corner where two walls intersected, another rope in her hand, looking back at him as if…checking to make sure he’d made it.

His breath caught. Slowly, one side of her kiss-me lips curled. And as his gaze zeroed in on only her, his blood flowed fast and hot. This time not from fear of falling to his death, but from excitement. Pure, unadulterated, sexual excitement.

No way was he done with her. Not by a long shot. No matter what Theron and the others said. Before this was over, she was going to be his.

Good gods…

Natasa swiped at her forehead, brushing aside the perspiration. She should have left well enough alone and let him fall to his death. Why hadn’t she? And why in Hades did the man—no, nix that…hero—put the human term “Greek god” to shame?

Disgusted, she let her feet drop to the ground, released the rope and headed for the crowd in the streets outside the main gates. She didn’t bother to see if he followed. Didn’t trust herself. If it weren’t for that stupid bird screaming like a banshee, she might not have looked back to begin with.

Keep telling yourself that, missy.

Her mind drifted to the sight of Titus pulling himself up on the wall walk. Muscular, sexy, panting to catch his breath. Her skin heated, and that internal temperature gauge she worked to control jumped another degree. She hoped he had the sense to check the rope before descending that wall after her. No way it would hold his weight. It had barely held hers.

Why do I freaking care?

More frustrated with herself than ever, she clenched her jaw and wove between Argoleans anxious for words from their queen. The crowd was thicker than she’d anticipated. They’d gathered in the mall in front of the main gates of the castle. She pushed and maneuvered her way through bodies. Her boot slipped on the cobblestone street and she nearly went down but caught herself at the last moment by grabbing on to a woman’s arm.

“What…?”

“Excuse me,” Natasa said, righting herself.

The woman jerked her arm back, frowned, and shook her head, then turned her attention back toward the castle.

Friendly. Another reason to get the hell out of here.

Natasa pushed through the crowd again. Finally, she reached the far edge. Drawing a deep breath of fresh air, she stepped up onto a sidewalk and scanned the marble buildings around her, then glanced back toward the crowd. A fountain rose up in the middle, one she hadn’t noticed before. One made of shiny marble with jets of water shooting out into a circular pool. In the center, a giant of a man slayed a great minotaur, and around him, smaller but no less impressive, six other statues of men, each holding a different weapon, looked on in awe.

The Argonauts, Natasa realized. A memorial to the great heroes who had settled this realm. As she looked to the six below Heracles, she couldn’t help but wonder which statue was Titus’s forefather, Odysseus.

“Over there,” a shrill voice echoed, cutting through Natasa’s thoughts. “She went that way.”

Natasa’s attention jerked away from the statue, and she looked back at the crowd. Then froze when she saw the woman she’d bumped into pointing her direction. And beside her, the Argonaut who’d just been on Natasa’s mind.

Shit. Shit!

She sprinted for the Gatehouse, the ancient building that housed the portal she’d used earlier to cross into Argolea. Caught wondering. Caught daydreaming. Dammit all to hell, the last thing she needed was to be caught by a man who was already a bigger distraction than she’d ever anticipated.

“Natasa, stop!”

Her pulse kicked up. The skin on her neck and spine prickled all over again. And heat flooded her veins. A heat she didn’t have time for right now.

Brilliantly colored flags attached to light posts waved in the air above. More voices echoed at her back. More than just Titus’s. Her boots hit the steps of the Gatehouse, and she skipped stairs to reach the top fast. Once inside, she paused to orient herself.

A guard moved out from behind a long counter, his armor flashing in the light of the setting sun. “Hey, you. Stop right there.”

Her gaze landed on the door straight ahead. She pushed her muscles forward.

“I said stop!”

He stepped into her path. He was twice her size and probably well-trained in hand-to-hand combat. But she had determination on her side.

“You’re not going anywhere, young lady.”

Young? She wanted to laugh but didn’t have time. “Move out of my way.”

“Or what?” the guard asked, looking smug and arrogant.

She skidded to a stop, pulled one of the two silver daggers she kept sheathed at her lower back, and braced her feet. “Or I will cut you.”

A low chuckle echoed from his chest. One that sent Natasa’s temper boiling. She arced out with the blade, not to kill him, just to injure him enough so he’d get the hell out of her way. His arm swung out before she saw him move, and the dagger went sailing across the room to land with a clank against the black marble floor.

“I said stop,” he muttered in a low voice.

Footsteps pounded at her back. Voices echoed from the steps out front. The guard edged forward.

Natasa’s panic and anger peaked.

“And I said move!” She shoved both hands against his chest.

Power raced down her arms. Smoke rose up around her. The guard shrieked. His head hit the marble with a crack, then his body slid to the floor. Whimpering, he curled in on himself, but not before Natasa saw the holes in the front of his armor. Holes the size of her palms. Smoking. The skin beneath singed and black.

Wide-eyed, Natasa turned her hands over and looked at her palms, which were also smoking. How the hell…?

“Holy Hades,” someone muttered.

She whipped around. Three men stood in the doorway. Three Argonauts. And at the front of the trio was Titus.

“Natasa,” he said slowly, taking a step forward. “Stop.”

She held her hands up in warning. Moved back. One step. Two. Stumbled through the doorway, unsure what she’d just done.

“You there!” Another voice rang out at her back. “Halt!”

She swiveled to find two more guards, each dressed in the same shiny armor as the first but holding spears, one standing on each side of the portal.

“Natasa,” Titus said calmly at her back. Too calmly. And way too close. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

Her pulse roared. Her adrenaline surged. She didn’t know what to believe. Nothing like that had ever happened before. Nothing…

Her gaze jumped from one guard to the other. They didn’t look nonthreatening from where she was standing.

She wouldn’t go back to being imprisoned. Not now. Not when she was so close to her goal. Her focus homed in on the portal, the stone arch shining like a beacon—her beacon to freedom. She stepped forward.

Both guards lowered their spears.

“Don’t—” Titus yelled.

Natasa didn’t wait for their response. She charged. The guard on the right thrust his spear out. She missed being skewered by a mere inch and grasped it with her palm. Heat radiated from her skin, and flames flared. The spear broke in two and turned to ash in her palm. Gasping, the guard yanked his arm back.

But the other thrust out his spear before she could deflect it. The tip grazed her side and tore her shirt. She sucked in a breath. Only, instead of shoving deep into her flesh as she expected, the guard sailed backward.

“Titus!”

She wasn’t sure who yelled, but she whipped around to find Titus at her side. The guard and his spear lay sprawled across the floor.

“Stop running,” Titus said, reaching out for her. “Let me help you.”

Her chest heaved. She looked to the hand he offered. Then to the other two Argonauts behind him, moving slowly closer. And on both sides, the guards watching in shock.

He’d saved her life. Not knowing who and what she was. Even after she’d broken into his castle and burned that guard. And now he was offering help.

No one had ever offered to help her. Her pulse roared in her ears. No one could. At least not without demanding something in return.

“You can’t help me.” She lurched for the portal.

“Natasa! Son of a fucking bitch!”

Her body went flying. Air whooshed past her face, and the world swirled as she entered the portal. But something grasped her ankle just before she entered. Something warm and solid and tight.