Enraptured

Chapter 15

Hades was in a piss-poor mood. His hellhounds had failed. Scouts had found them in the mountains of Montana with Siren arrows through their hearts.

Orpheus, the Siren, and that stain, Maelea, were nowhere to be found. Not even a trace of them remained.

He tapped his long fingers against the intricate armrest of his blackened throne and waited for Orcus to bring him news. Yeah, he’d lost track of Maelea, but that didn’t mean he was out of options. He was the Lord of the Underworld because he anticipated his enemy’s next move. And he was rarely wrong.

If Atalanta was plotting something in Sin City with his father, Krónos, and the soul of the Argonaut Gryphon, it meant her escape plan was imminent. And if she promised Krónos enough, his lying shit-for-a-father would tell her exactly where the Orb could be found. Even though Krónos was locked in Tartarus, he was connected to that damn thing. He knew its every movement in the human realm.

Hades ran a hand over his chin. Once Atalanta got out, what would she need? Her army of daemons had disbanded when she was sent to the Fields of Asphodel. They now roamed the earth in secret, causing havoc, but they were no longer organized thanks to the Argonauts. She couldn’t rely on them. She’d need her slave’s help locating the Orb. And a soul needed a body, to be of any use in the human realm. He stroked the patch of hair on his chin. The Argonaut Gryphon’s body was still alive, wasn’t it? Possessed by that warlock, Apophis.

Apophis…

Hades’s mind skipped back to his last confrontation with the warlock. In Demeter’s temple on the island of Pandora. The warlock had been trying to take the earth element from Isadora. Hades had intervened, wanting the element for himself. Thinking back, he realized there had been something different about Apophis that day. Not just the warlock’s newly acquired—and improved—body, but a strength the aging warlock shouldn’t have possessed in the human realm, even in the young Argonaut’s skin.

“Motherfucker.” Hades pushed out of his chair. The warlock had the Orb. He’d had it the whole time. And Hades had been so intent on getting the stupid element from the little queen, he hadn’t even noticed.

He turned a slow circle. Pictured his precious wife. Persephone would have known, of course. During the month she’d had access to Isadora’s power of foresight, thanks to the deal she’d made with the then-princess to save her sister’s life, Persephone had been able to see where each of the elements and the Orb were hiding. That’s how he’d known Isadora was going to find the earth element in the first place. But his wife had neglected to mention the Orb. The Orb she undoubtedly knew was with Apophis right now.

“That traitorous little wench…”

“I’m sure you couldn’t possibly mean me.”

Hades whipped around to find a Fate sitting on his altar, her legs crossed, her diaphanous robe hanging off her lithe and wrinkled body to float to the blackened floor. Annoyance at the interruption and bitter hatred for the creature who screwed with his life vied for his attention. “You are a wench of another kind.”

Lachesis smiled, the bitch, but it faded quickly when she said, “And you violated our agreement.”

He rested his hands on his hips. She was talking about her precious hero. Like he fucking cared about Orpheus right now. “I did no such thing. The weasel’s still alive, isn’t he?”

“Yes, no thanks to you.” She tipped her head. “Hades, I shouldn’t have to remind you, you cannot send hellhounds to kill him. We made a deal.”

“My hellhounds are the ones who are dead.”

“And rightly so. But that doesn’t change the fact you tried to destroy him. And while I’m at it, I’ll remind you that you cannot kill Maelea either.”

No shit, which pissed him off even more. He dropped back onto his throne and looked past her to the window beyond, irritated to the nth degree that he had to deal with her shit now. All the gods hated the Fates, but none more than him. Especially her, because she came here with conditions no immortal should be able to demand, especially in his damn realm. “I wasn’t after the fucking stain.”

She slid off the altar, floated across the ground. A petite creature he’d like to backhand into eternity. Only he didn’t dare. Because like it or not, the Fates were stronger than any god. Not fallen angels like him and the other gods, but the real deal. The Creator’s right hand…wenches.

“You’re afraid he’s going to succeed.”

He scoffed. He wasn’t afraid Orpheus was going to succeed. He just didn’t want the moron to muck up his plans for the Orb before the so-called hero crashed and burned.

He cut his glare from the window to her. “Your precious hero won’t succeed at anything. No matter what I do to him, his true colors will reveal themselves soon enough. A soul cannot be changed. And a black one is black for all eternity, Lachesis. I know that better than anyone.”

“Not even the daemon you cursed him with has turned him completely, Hades. There is good in him still.”

“Very little. Let’s not forget he stole the air element from Zeus in the first place. That in his second chance at life—a chance you insisted he deserved—he’s fucked with the Orb more times than I can count. It might look like he’s doing good, but he’s only out for himself. And as soon as he finds the Orb again, you’ll see how little good there is left in him.”

She held his gaze a long beat, a beady-eyed stare that boiled the blood in his veins and made him dream of vengeance. Of getting his hands on the Orb once and for all and showing her the true meaning of power and just what she could do with her meddling.

“Do not send your hounds after Orpheus again,” she warned. “I will strike them down if you do. And instead of worrying about my hero, perhaps you should turn your attention to your wife. She plots against you.”

A wicked smile curled his mouth. “I know. Ain’t it grand?”

Lachesis didn’t answer. Only faded to nothing until he was once more alone in his temple.

His humor died. As much as he admired Persephone’s ruthlessness, his own wife would not beat him at this game.

“Orcus!” He pushed out of his chair again as plans and options whipped like a tornado through his mind. “Where is that little bastard?”

By the time Orcus dragged his lame leg into the room, Hades was pacing the blackened stones, thinking through every step. “Yes, my lord.”

“Find my wife.”

“But Maelea—”

“Forget the stain for now. I’m more concerned with what Persephone’s up to. Find her and follow her and report back her every move.”

“You think she knows something, my lord?”

“I think she knows everything. And while you’re at it, find out what Tantalus discovered in Sin City. I want to know what my father is plotting with Atalanta.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The creature ducked his head, slithered out of the room. And alone, Hades clenched his jaw. It shouldn’t be this hard to keep everyone in line. They were all plotting against him, wrestling for control of something none of them deserved. His father, his brothers, the Fates…even his precious little wife.

Of course, that plotting and deal making behind the scenes would make it all the more enjoyable when he finally had the Orb, wouldn’t it? And when everyone—the meddling Fates included—finally bowed to him for good.

It was after midnight by the time Orpheus made it back to the colony. He fully expected Maelea and Skyla to be sacked out somewhere, but he didn’t care if he had to yank the Siren from a deep sleep. She was going to tell him what the hell was going on.

Isadora and Casey were sitting in the grand hall on the fifth floor of the castle sipping tea when he and the others stepped off the elevator. Enormous stone pillars rose around the outskirts of the room, separating the living space from the hallway. Isadora’s face brightened when she saw Demetrius at Orpheus’s back. “How did it go?”

“Good,” Nick answered.

“Piece of cake,” Theron grinned, walking around the couch to sit on the armrest near Casey and pull her close. She smiled up at him and leaned in as he kissed her temple. “Those Sirens don’t have a clue what hit them.”

“And we’re sure Zeus can’t link them back to us?” Isadora asked.

“Nothing’s a hundred percent certain, kardia,” Demetrius said, sitting in the chair next to her, “but those Sirens aren’t going to remember anything. When they wake up though…” His voice trailed off as he looked to Nick.

“When they wake up, what?” Isadora asked.

Nick scratched the back of his head and shot his brother a keep your trap shut look. “Nothing. They’ll just be wondering what the hell happened, that’s all.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?” Isadora asked.

Because there was. Nick hadn’t informed Isadora his guys were leaving the Sirens with a Titan. Even though a few hadn’t been condemned to Tartarus with the others at the end of the Titanomachy and still roamed the earth, Zeus hated them with a passion. If Isadora knew they’d left the Sirens with one just to screw with the King of the Gods, she’d be less than thrilled. In fact, she’d be irate. Orpheus wasn’t getting in the middle of this one.

“Where’s Maelea?” he asked.

“Upstairs.” Isadora set her tea on the coffee table. “Asleep.”

“And the Siren?”

“She said something about needing air,” Casey answered.

Disbelief rippled through Orpheus. “You let her leave?”

“No.” Isadora pushed to her feet. “She’s still here. The guards know to keep a lookout for her.”

“Take the elevator to the top floor,” Nick said to Orpheus. “There are a number of turrets and towers on the south end that no one uses because of the wind. If she wanted privacy, that’s where you’ll find her. I’ll double-check with the guards and make sure she didn’t pull anything funny.”

That thought didn’t put Orpheus at ease. There were measures taken when outsiders visited the colony, steps to make sure they couldn’t find their way back. Skyla couldn’t leave on her own now unless she was escorted out. But knowing her, if she’d suddenly decided to split, she could have seduced any one of those dumb guards to get free. And they would have fallen for her seduction skills a hell of a lot faster than he had.

Orpheus clenched his jaw, turned back for the elevator. Nick’s voice stopped him. “What are you gonna do with her?”

Orpheus pushed the call button. “Get rid of her, once and for all.”

Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “If you decide to let her live, make sure she can’t find her way back here. And if you don’t…clean up the mess.”

Orpheus didn’t answer as the elevator door opened. From inside the car, he heard Nick say, “So this means you’re all taking off, right?”

“No,” Isadora answered. “At least for tonight, we’re staying.”

Fucking fantastic. Just what Orpheus needed. The sooner he got the info he needed from Maelea, the sooner he could get the hell out of here and away from all of them. But first he had the Siren to deal with.

He took the elevator up another ten floors to the top as Nick had directed and stepped out into an empty space. Unlike the other levels, this one was nothing but stone floors and towering columns, void of furniture and rugs. A wall of windows looked out into the blackness.

He crossed the long room, pushed the arched doors open, and stepped out into the cold. A gust of wind lifted the hair from his forehead, and a shiver ran down his spine. Shrugging deeper into his thin jacket, he searched the flat, barren terrace covered in a thin layer of snow that ran the length of the south wing. No movement caught his attention. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He tuned in to his enhanced daemon sense—which, thankfully, still worked—and picked up nothing. To the right he spied a curved set of stairs that disappeared up into the darkness.

The Siren had to go. Didn’t matter that she was hotter than sin. Or that he felt connected to her on some weird-ass plane. She was a distraction he couldn’t deal with anymore.

The stone steps curved up and around. His boots crunched on snow as he skipped steps to get to the top. He paused when he spotted Skyla standing across the small terrace, looking out into the darkness, a trancelike expression on her perfect face.

Gods, she was beautiful. Even pissed off and ready to be done with her, he couldn’t deny that fact.

For a second he thought she was asleep. But then he realized she couldn’t be. Not standing straight with her eyes open. He took one more step onto the terrace and another gust of wind slapped him in the face, sending shivers over his skin. Skyla’s hair blew away from her cheeks, but she didn’t so much as quiver in the cold.

His aggravation regarding her and her Siren sisters came back tenfold. Along with his stupidity for not kicking her to the curb when he should have. “Getting new orders from the mother ship?”

She jerked in his direction. “Orpheus.”

Why the hell did he like it when she said his name with that sexy Siren voice? He was so freakin’ gullible it wasn’t even funny. He set his jaw. “Well? Did Zeus give you the go-ahead to use me as a pin cushion with those fancy arrows of yours or are you supposed to wait until I have the Orb?”

A guilty expression rushed across her face. It was the first time he’d mentioned the Orb to her. They both knew why she was here, but neither, it seemed, wanted to admit it.

Well, screw it. This ended here. Tonight. No more games.

“I…” Her platform boots crunched on the thin layer of snow as she took a step toward him. She’d ditched the breastplate and arm guards, leaving behind only a thin cotton shirt and light black jacket that hit at her hips and led to slim black fitted pants grazing her legs. “I wasn’t talking to Zeus. Or Athena. She wouldn’t answer me, actually. I was…thinking.”

Yeah, right.

She took another step toward him, her expression wary. She obviously sensed his animosity. That, or his eyes were glowing, signaling his daemon hovered close. Only it didn’t feel like his eyes were glowing. And though his daemon was there, it wasn’t as prominent as usual.

“Queen Isadora told me you and the others went to throw the Sirens off our trail.”

Isa had talked to her? Fabulous. Just what he needed. “Worried about them?”

“No, they can handle themselves. They’re well trained.”

“Backup?” he asked. “For when I decide to kill you?”

Another shot of guilt rushed across her face before she glanced away. For the first time he noticed the scattering of patio furniture on this terrace. A couple of chaise lounges stacked together near what looked like a room made of glass. Inside he could see shapes, like other furniture stored for safekeeping.

“Perhaps,” she said, “but I don’t think that’s why they were sent.”

Orpheus brought his attention back to her, crossed his arms over his chest. Reminded himself he wasn’t up here to take in the scenery. He was here for answers. And to get rid of her. “Then why were they sent? I think it’s time you stopped fucking with me and laid it on the line. We both know you want the Orb. We both know Zeus sent you. What I want to know is why he sent other Sirens to tail you.”

She bit her lip, the first blatantly nervous move he’d seen her make since they’d met. And a trickle of unease settled in his belly. “He sent them because he doesn’t trust me.”

“And why doesn’t he trust you?”

“Because he’s not stupid,” she muttered.

He was just about to ask what the hell that meant when she took another step toward him, this time with determined eyes. Eyes that said she’d just gone on the offensive. “You weren’t chosen by the gods to become an Argonaut. You only got those markings when your brother died.”

His spine stiffened. And the memory of what had happened to Gryphon whipped through him like a hurricane, pulling tight whatever was left inside his chest until it was hard to breathe.

That damn Isadora.

“I’d already started to suspect you were after the Orb for something other than what I’d been told, but now I know for sure. You’re going after the Orb to save him, aren’t you?”

Why was she moving toward him? He took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You’re just so used to working alone, you’d rather everyone go on thinking you’re a sonofabitch out for his own gain than have them know you’re trying to do some kind of good.”

He wasn’t trying to do good. He was simply trying to right a wrong that shouldn’t have happened. His brother was the hero, not him. He’d done more bad shit in his life than most. He was the one who deserved to be in Tartarus, not Gryphon. All Gryphon had done was try to make the world a better place.

“I’m not having this conversation with you. You can believe whatever stupid fairy tale you want. I only came up here to tell you it’s time for you to leave. Maelea’s staying here and your Siren buddies are gone. I’ll take you back to the forest, but from there you’re on your own.”

“You’re letting me go? Just like that? Your friends aren’t afraid I’ll tell Zeus and the others where their colony is located?”

“I’ll make sure you don’t remember.” He turned for the steps. “Let’s go.”

“No, I’m not going back.” When he looked over his shoulder, he caught the challenge in her eyes. “I’m going with you to the Underworld.”

“You are higher than a kite.” He stepped down, waved his hand in a come on motion. “Move your ass, Siren. I don’t have all day.”

No sound echoed behind him. He looked back across the patio. She stood in the middle of the space with her arms crossed over her chest and her boots shoulder-width apart in a very clear make me pose. “Afraid you might actually need my help, daemon?”

“I don’t need anyone. And I sure as hell wouldn’t trust you if I did.”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? That’s why I moved Maelea. You either take me with you or you can spend the next two weeks searching for her in this mausoleum.”

He moved back up to the terrace. “No, you didn’t.”

“Think again, daemon. Maelea knows the people here don’t really want her. She’d happily stay in a hole in the ground if it meant she didn’t have to face them. Trust me when I say she’s locked up safe and sound in a portion of this castle with enough food and water to last her for several weeks at least.”

There was just enough gloating in her eyes to make him wonder if she’d done exactly what she claimed. “Why, you little—”

A victorious grin cut across her perfect face. “Ah, now that’s more like it. Have you noticed your eyes don’t turn green anymore when you’re mad?”

He’d have had more luck following her train of thought if she were speaking in a foreign language. All he knew was that she was fucking with his plans. Fucking with his head again too, standing there looking gorgeous and defiant and totally turned on by his temper.

He crossed the patio, stopped in front of her. Used his size and strength as intimidation factors. “Tell me where she is.”

She pursed her lips. “Mm, I don’t think so. Tell me you’re going after your brother.”

Maelea would be quaking in her shoes. But not Skyla. No, she liked confrontation. “Siren, I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Oh, but you like games. That’s why you’ve kept me around this long. That and the fact you couldn’t hurt me if you tried. There’s too much honor in you for that.”

“There’s no honor in me.”

“Oh yes, daemon. There is. Way more than you think.”

The last of his patience slipped away. The need to prove he was nothing but the monster that lived inside bubbled through his restraint.

He grasped her by the bicep, whipped her around so her back was plastered to his chest, and held her immobile. She sucked in a surprised breath but didn’t fight back. “We’re done playing games,” he breathed in her ear. “And your usefulness has run its course. If you don’t want to get hurt, you’ll tell me where Maelea is. And then you’ll do as I said and leave this place for good.”

Her body trembled against his, but he sensed it wasn’t fear that sent that shiver down her spine. It was arousal. A twisted, wicked, steaming arousal that triggered his own depraved need. A need that locked on tight whenever she was near.

“Go on,” she whispered, pressing that cute little ass of hers back into his groin. “Hurt me. I dare you.”