Tempted

Chapter 17

Isadora swiped at her cheeks, tossed the blanket to the ground, and found her clothes. Her hands shook, but she ignored the quiver and dressed in record time.

Forget fantasies of happily ever after. Forget trying to be what everyone wanted her to be. She’d been telling herself the last few weeks that she was the new Isadora, not the doormat she’d been for so long. Now was the time to prove it.

She moved to the ancient trunks and flipped the lids up one by one. Fatigue settled in and she paused to take a breath. It wasn’t from lack of sleep and too much activity, she told herself. It was being away from Casey that was weighing on her, nothing more. And that was one more reason she was determined to find a way home, today.

Renewed determination rushed through her veins, gave her something solid to focus on. She found a small dagger with a black handle in Jason’s trunk, stuck the tip into the belt loop of her shorts, and moved on to the next. After gathering what few items she thought might come in useful out there and slipping what she could into her pockets, she closed each lid, took another deep breath, and headed for the stairs.

She blocked the glare of the sun with her hand as she pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the great hall. No sound met her ears, so she figured that meant Demetrius wasn’t anywhere close. Which was a good thing. She most definitely didn’t want to talk to him, now or ever, if she could avoid it.

Pebbles pushed into the soles of her bare feet, but after several days on this island walking around barefoot, she was getting used to the pain. Moving onto the front steps of the ruins, she scanned the horizon. Any temples are going to be built on higher ground, farther inland. That made sense. Early dwellers would have wanted their temples as close to Olympus as possible, just as Demetrius had said. A sliver of pain sliced through her heart at the thought of him but she pushed it away, pulled up her temper instead. It, if nothing else, was the fuel she needed to get through this day.

She stepped onto the grassy soil and pulled up short when she heard a voice. A vaguely familiar voice, calling from the bottom of the hill.

She squinted. Tried to see through the bright morning sunlight, then gasped when she caught sight of Gryphon climbing the slope steadily toward her.

Gryphon. No. It couldn’t be. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been…

Bare feet forgotten, she took off running down the hillside. The dagger slapped at her hip. The small bag of rocks in her pocket jostled against her thigh as she jumped over stones and twigs sticking out of the ground. Excitement bubbled up in her chest because they weren’t on this island alone after all. Gryphon was here. Gryphon was alive!

She pulled up short just before she reached him. Breathed deep and smiled wide. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she didn’t want to knock him backward down the hill or shock the hell out of him. He was used to the shy, reserved, docile princess, not the take-charge female she’d become.

Her chest rose and fell as she worked to slow her breathing. She took in his white shirt, not the slightest bit dirty, his crisp pants, and shiny black boots. And her smile faltered when she focused on his face—his windswept blond hair, his clean skin and natural coloring, not tan like Demetrius or sunburned like her. He looked like he’d just stepped off a boat onto the island, wasn’t the least bit worn and frazzled from days stranded here.

“Gryphon,” she said when she found her voice. “What—? How did you—?”

“There you are, Princess. I’ve been looking for you.”

Her eyes narrowed. He sounded the same, looked the same, but something was off. Something she couldn’t quite pin down. A trickle of wariness coursed through her veins. “How did you get here? What happened to—?”

“I came through the portal.”

“Portal? You came through a portal? Onto this island?”

“Yes.” He held out his hand. “Come with me and I will take you there.”

That wariness kicked up a notch. “Why can’t you just open a portal home right here?”

He glanced to his right. “Something about this island…interferes with my abilities.”

Okay, that made sense. Demetrius had said this place was as screwy as the Bermuda Triangle. And considering Demetrius couldn’t open a portal, it made sense Gryphon wouldn’t be able to either. A little of her anxiety eased, but not completely. “How far is it?”

“Not far. Come with me.”

He motioned, and her eyes cut to his hands. Big, strong, guardian hands. They were the same hands he’d used to unchain her from that bar in Thrace Castle where the witches had strung her up, and yet…something still felt off. Her gaze slid to his face. To his eyes. To his blue eyes that seemed brighter than before.

“What the hell…?”

She flinched at the sound of Demetrius’s voice. Her heart rate kicked up and a flutter lit off deep in her chest. But instead of the rush of warmth his voice had elicited the past few days, today all the sound did was blast a hole the size of a crater in her stomach.

She clenched her jaw. Pushed down the humiliation and pulled up her anger. He’d made it more than clear how he felt about her: he didn’t. And she wasn’t about to play the blithering idiot, especially not in front of Gryphon.

She squared her shoulders. “I’m definitely ready to go home, Gryphon. Let’s go.”

But Gryphon was no longer focused on her. His gaze skipped past her to land on Demetrius. And something hard settled in his eyes as he focused on the Argonaut at her back.

“Gryphon,” Demetrius said with what Isadora knew was also a hint of wariness. He stopped just to her right. And it was all she could do not to turn and glare at him. “How the hell did you get here?”

Gryphon’s gaze shifted to her, then back to Demetrius. “I’ve been looking for the princess.”

“You? Where are the others?”

Silence. Then, “Also looking. I came across a daemon who told me where to find her.”

“A daemon?” Isadora asked. That wasn’t right. How would a daemon know they were here? Demetrius had told her some kind of signal had crossed when he’d opened the portal from that field. Instead of taking them home, it had landed them here by mistake.

Gryphon’s bright blue eyes shifted her way, but before he could answer, Demetrius said, “The Argonauts are here? On this island?”

“No,” Gryphon answered, swinging his gaze back to Demetrius. “But I’m sure they will be quite pleased when I return with the princess.”

Demetrius was silent beside Isadora. From the corner of her eye she saw his clenched jaw, his scrutinizing dark eyes. He wasn’t happy Gryphon was here. Was it because he knew she was going to leave with the blond Argonaut and he was upset he wouldn’t have another chance to belittle her? Or was there something else going on?

“Come, Princess,” Gryphon said, holding out his hand to her again. Only this time his eyes never left Demetrius. “The portal is waiting.”

“Isadora—”

Yeah. Like she was about to listen to Demetrius? Not a chance. She stepped toward Gryphon, but she didn’t take his hand. “I’m ready.”

“Isadora,” Demetrius said again. “Wait—”

“No, thank you,” she tossed over her shoulder as she brushed past Gryphon and headed down the hillside. “I’m done waiting. Really done waiting. Especially for you.”

Demetrius didn’t answer. And she didn’t bother to look back to see his expression. But she was almost sure she heard a soft chuckle at her back. One that definitely hadn’t come from Demetrius’s mouth.

Something wasn’t right.

Forget the fact Gryphon had been near dead the last time Demetrius had seen him. Forget the fact there was no way Theron would ever have sent him off to search for Isadora alone. Forget even that there was something freakin’ wrong with Gryphon’s eyes and his speech pattern was off, like he was trying too hard to sound normal. What stuck like a burr in Demetrius’s brain was the knowledge there was no way in Hades a daemon would know the location of Pandora, except maybe the archdaemon, Atalanta’s right-hand monster. And he sure as shit wouldn’t give it up unless he was on death’s doorstep.

One Argonaut alone couldn’t overpower the archdaemon. He was too big, too strong, and with enhanced abilities from Atalanta, not a simple grunt that could be easily taken down. Gryphon showed no signs of battle, not even a scratch. And he claimed a daemon had simply told him where they’d been sent? Demetrius wasn’t buying it. Not for a minute.

He followed along behind Gryphon, curious and cautious about where they were heading. It was more than coincidence that Gryphon had put Isadora in the lead and placed himself between her and Demetrius, even though she didn’t have a clue where they were heading. With every step they took, Demetrius’s apprehension kicked up and his Argonaut senses went on high alert.

They walked on sunlit paths for at least an hour, deeper into the island’s topography. He knew Isadora was tired, but she didn’t slow her pace. And she didn’t once look at him, didn’t once acknowledge he was there. Then again, why the hell should she? After the way he’d treated her this morning, he was lucky she hadn’t hauled off and stabbed him with that dagger hooked in the waistband of her shorts.

He slapped a tree branch out of his eyes, looked past Gryphon, and focused on her legs. Then her short shorts. Then the round curve of her ass, which flexed and moved under the baggy cotton. Heat rippled through his torso, slid down to his groin. This morning he’d wanted his hands there, right where he was focused now, urging her on and helping her ride. His mind flashed back to the image of her moving over him, the look of sheer pleasure on her face. And that heat went white-hot just that fast.

“Skata,” he mumbled. Like he needed that vision now? She hated him again, just as he needed her to. It was stupid and useless to remember any of what had happened early this morning. Even more pathetic to wish things could be different.

Gryphon glanced over his shoulder, but there wasn’t curiosity in the other guardian’s too-bright eyes. There was malice. And very clear hatred.

Oh yeah, something was definitely off. Gryphon was the easygoing Argonaut. Everyone’s pal, the non-shit-stirrer of the group. Though they’d never been best buds, they certainly hadn’t been enemies. But right now? Right now it was crystal clear that’s exactly what they’d become.

They moved out of the trees and headed for a small knoll covered in emerald green grass. As they drew close, Demetrius realized it wasn’t simply the steadily increasing slope of a hillside. There was something underneath all that soil and grass, as if a structure of some kind had been buried long ago. Sure enough, as they moved closer and Gryphon called to Isadora to stop, Demetrius caught sight of an opening in the rocks near the base of the hill that looked like an entrance to some kind of tomb.

“What’s down there?” Isadora asked, eyeing the stairs that disappeared into darkness.

“A temple,” Gryphon answered. “To Demeter.”

Isadora’s gaze swept the landscape. This high there was nothing but hills and grasses as far as the eye could see. They’d moved out of the trees and were now surrounded by open sky. “Out here?”

“Are you implying this location isn’t sufficient for the earth mother?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“Good,” Gryphon replied with zero humor. “Because Demeter knows a thing or two about purity. Unlike some people.” He motioned her to follow him. “We go inside. The portal is below.”

Gryphon moved down the steps, rounded a corner, and disappeared from view. A reddish yellow glow erupted in the tunnel, indicating he’d lit some kind of torch, which struck Demetrius as wrong once again. Had he brought matches with him? How would he have known he’d need them?

Isadora took a deep breath and moved toward the opening, but Demetrius caught her by the arm. “Wait.”

She rounded on him so fast, he didn’t expect it. But the sharp point of the dagger pressing into his side registered loud and clear. “Don’t touch me.”

He let go of her arm, held his hands up in surrender. Yeah, still seriously pissed. And could he blame her?

“I won’t,” he said calmly. The fire in her dark eyes was something he hadn’t seen before. Even yesterday when she pulled the sword on him in the Hall of Heroes, there’d been a softness there, a vulnerability. Now, thanks to him, that was long gone. “Think carefully about this, though.”

“About cutting you? I don’t have to. If you ever touch me again there will be blood. And this time it won’t be your choice, it’ll be mine.”

He didn’t doubt that for a minute.

She lowered the dagger and moved one step down into the tunnel. The light was now gone and nothing but blackness beckoned, but Gryphon couldn’t be far ahead.

“Isadora,” he said quickly, panic pushing in before she disappeared. “I didn’t mean about me. I meant about Gryphon. He isn’t—” He stopped himself, unsure what the hell to say. Was he overreacting? Or was he simply jealous she so easily trusted Gryphon when she now hated him?

He didn’t want to face that realization, so he went with his gut. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”

She glanced back over her shoulder. But her eyes were just as hard and cold as they’d been before, when she’d held the dagger to his side, not the soft chocolate brown he’d looked into as they’d made love. “And sometimes they are. I’ve learned that the hard way. You made sure of it.”

She moved down into the darkness, turned the corner, and was gone.

Alone, his heart thumped hard. In his attempt to protect her from himself, he’d done what he’d set out to do. He’d finally broken her. And as a result he’d turned her into someone who was as cold and unfeeling and hopeless as he was.

Regret and a need to make amends pushed him forward with a fierce determination. He stepped toward the opening, but instead of moving down into the darkness himself, his body hit an invisible shield with a crack that stole his breath and knocked him back to the ground.

What the…?

“Gryphon?” Isadora called from inside the tunnel.

Demetrius rushed to his feet, tried again, met nothing but a wall of air as strong as granite.

“Isadora!” He slammed his hands against the force.

“Gryphon?” Isadora called again. Realizing he could hear her as clearly as if she were beside him, Demetrius stopped fighting, placed his hands on the invisible wall, and listened. “Where are you?”

“I’m here, Princess.”

“I can’t see you,” she called.

“Oh, you will,” Gryphon replied with a chuckle. “Come closer and I will light the way.”

A scraping sound echoed, like metal against rock, and Demetrius imagined the dagger on Isadora’s hip hitting the narrow passageway. His chest grew tight. The scraping eventually died down, and he heard Isadora’s voice again.

“Where…where are we?”

“In the main chamber. Where it will begin.”

Begin? Oh, shit. Demetrius’s anxiety pushed higher.

“Why can’t I see you?” she asked. “I thought you had a torch.”

“Oh, you’ll see me, Princess. Very soon you will see all of me. In my true form, as you did before. Even though you are no longer a virgin, you are still of great use to me.”

The dead voice, the too-blue eyes, and the hunch in Demetrius’s gut all finally coalesced. And even before the blue glow erupted from the tunnel to spill out the archway and illuminate every stone and pebble, Demetrius knew he’d been right.

Isadora gasped. “Oh, gods.”

“Not a god,” Apophis said with that same menacing chuckle that belonged to Gryphon. “Not yet. But with your help, Hora, I will be soon.”