Enraptured

Chapter 18

Isadora covered her mouth and yawned as she approached the bedroom Nick had directed her toward. She and the others had stayed up late into the night discussing not only Orpheus and this situation with the Sirens, but war strategy with Nick and what the Argonauts could do for the colony now that it had been relocated here to Montana. Atalanta’s daemons had recently struck a village high in the Rockies—both human and Misos residents decimated—and there were increasing reports all over the Pacific Northwest about strange killings and even stranger creature sightings. The Argonauts, along with Nick and his men, were trying to track down what daemons they could and destroy them before more lives were lost. And they all agreed they needed to get a handle on the violence before a new otherworldly power decided to take advantage of Atalanta’s absence and make the daemons their own. Or before Atalanta returned herself.

That last thought was foremost in Isadora’s mind. She didn’t for a second doubt that Atalanta was plotting her way out of the Underworld right this minute.

“You shouldn’t be up this late.”

Demetrius’s concerned voice cut through Isadora’s thoughts and she smiled at her mate as he pushed the bedroom door open and let her pass, careful, she noticed, not to touch her. He was always careful not to touch her. At least when others could see. “I’m fine. Besides, you know as well as I do that Nick won’t come to Argolea. That means I have to catch him when I can. And at least tonight he seemed agreeable.”

Most days he wasn’t. Though she and Nick had formed an alliance and were sharing their knowledge and manpower in this fight, she knew how hard it was for Nick to be around her. Especially when Demetrius was in the room.

“He can’t stand to see us together,” Demetrius said at her back, closing the door behind them. “I know how he feels and I can’t blame him. Sometimes I wonder if you’d be better off with—”

“Don’t say it.” She turned to face him, knowing this fear came from the very bottom of his soul. The soul he still didn’t think would ever be good enough for her, even after she’d bound her life to his. “Don’t even think it. He is not the one I want, Demetrius. He’s not the ándras I’m in love with. He’s not the one—”

His hand captured hers. He yanked her close, cutting off her words. She bumped into his solid chest, then groaned when he lowered his mouth and kissed her in that way that made her toes curl against the carpet.

Touching him was always like this. Electric. Exhilarating. Explosive. Like the very first time they’d kissed on the island where Atalanta had trapped them. If the goddess had planned to use Hera’s soul-mate curse to her advantage, she’d failed. Because their connection wasn’t a curse at all. It was the best part of her life.

His big, strong hands framed her face. He coaxed her lips apart with his tongue, slid into her mouth when she opened for him. He tasted like the coffee they’d had earlier and the sin she wanted to experience now. He changed the angle of the kiss, took her deeper, drew her so close he was all she could feel and see and know.

She was breathless and aching with need when he eased back. His eyes, those dark pools of obsidian, tugged at her soul. “Gods, kardia. I hate what Nick’s going through, but I can’t let you go. Not even for him. And I’ve wanted to kiss you like this all day.”

Her fingers tangled tight in the fabric of his shirt. He was so big—everywhere. All solid muscle and brawny sinew. She loved that about him. Loved that his size—which had once scared her to death—was such a huge turn-on now. “You’d better never let me go. And for the record, Argonaut, I’ve wished you’d kiss me like this all day.”

He pressed his lips to her temple, trailed hot kisses across to her ear that curled her stomach. “You know why I can’t. Because as soon as I touch you I just can’t stop.”

He captured her mouth again. Kissed her long and slow and so completely, she melted. She felt his arms encircle her, felt her feet lift from the floor. Knew he was carrying her to that big bed but couldn’t think of anything except getting him naked and taking him deep into her body, right where she wanted him most.

He laid her out on the bed, nudged her knees apart, and climbed over her. “Ah, kardia. You drive me absolutely insane, you know that?”

She smiled, traced the line of his thick dark eyebrows. “Nice to know I still hold sway over you, Guardian.”

“You always will.” He turned his lips into her palm, kissed her softly. “I—”

A knock sounded at the door.

She captured his jaw and drew him back to her. “Ignore it.”

His lips found hers again and he flicked the button on her slacks, had both hands inside her pants and was pushing them down her hips when the knock sounded again.

“I know you’re both in there,” a voice called. A familiar voice. “I can hear you getting all hot and bothered. Keep your panties on for a few more minutes, Isadora. I need to talk to you.”

Demetrius broke the kiss again and growled, “Orpheus. He’s got the worst damn timing.”

Isadora sighed, not about to argue with her mate. But she did need to talk to Orpheus and knowing the ándras, if he was awake now, at three a.m., there was no telling if he’d still be here in the morning.

She kissed Demetrius one last time and pushed against his shoulder. He rolled off her. “Time-out. Let’s give him a few minutes. We can pick up where we left off once he’s gone.”

Demetrius didn’t look so sure as she stood and buttoned her pants. But she smiled because she very definitely planned to continue to prove to him he was the one she wanted—the only one she wanted—as soon as Orpheus was gone.

She smoothed out her blouse and hair and crossed to the door. When she opened it, Orpheus had one hand braced high on the doorframe and looked anything but pleased that he’d had to wait. “You missed a button.”

Isadora glanced down, realized her breasts were nearly hanging out. She didn’t even remember Demetrius undoing her blouse. Cheeks heating, she quickly covered herself as Orpheus stalked past her into the room as if he owned it.

Demetrius pushed up on his elbows. “Your timing sucks, O.”

“It always has,” Orpheus answered. He turned to Isadora. “I need to ask a favor. And don’t go falling over from shock, but I figure since you’ve asked me for a hell of enough favors over the last year, you can give me one without question.”

Isadora had, but that didn’t mean she was going blindly into any “favor” with Orpheus. “What do you need?”

“Your mate.”

Demetrius’s brow lifted. “What for?”

As Isadora came around to stand at Demetrius’s side, Orpheus said, “I’ve located the warlock. Since I can’t be in two places at once, I need your help keeping him immobilized until I get back.”

“Back from where?” Demetrius asked.

“The Underworld.”

“You’re going after Gryphon,” Isadora breathed, relief flooding her veins as she pressed a hand against her throat. “We can get the other Argonauts to help you. It—”

“No,” Orpheus said in a hard tone. “No one else. I don’t want them there.”

“But—”

“No one else,” he said in a louder voice, cutting her off. Then to Demetrius, “Just you. You owe me too.”

Regardless of the fact Demetrius did owe Orpheus for saving her life—they both did—Isadora knew her mate would agree because he wanted Gryphon back as much as Orpheus did. All the Argonauts did, but Demetrius especially. He partly blamed himself for what had happened to Gryphon in that warlock’s chamber at Thrace Castle.

Demetrius pushed off the mattress. “When?”

“Now,” Orpheus answered. “He’s in Corinth.” He gave Demetrius the coordinates. “You can meet me there?”

Orpheus could flash on earth. It was one of his gifts. But Demetrius couldn’t. Which meant he’d have to open a portal back to Argolea, then another to Corinth.

Demetrius reached for his coat from the chair where he’d thrown it when he and Isadora had stepped into the room. “Are you sure he’ll still be there by the time we arrive?”

Orpheus’s eyes darkened. “He’ll still be there. He’s gathered a new horde of witches and is knee-deep in training.”

“Wonderful,” Demetrius answered. “You sure you don’t want the other guys to tag along on this? Remember the last time we tangled with Apophis’s witches?”

“These ones won’t be anywhere near as strong. And Apophis will be weak right now. You’re the only one I need.”

“Think again, daemon.”

Skyla stood in the doorway wearing a white long-sleeved button-down cinched at the waist, with a dark belt and a pair of pants that looked three sizes too big. Her hair was tousled, eyes shadowed from lack of sleep, and the intensity in her gaze told everyone in the room she wouldn’t be forgotten.

Or left behind.

Isadora watched Orpheus’s scruffy jaw tighten and a scowl creep over his features. Her first impression in the great hall had been right. There was definitely something going on between him and the Siren. Something that went well beyond predator-prey and hinted of involvement.

She’d asked herself several times why Orpheus hadn’t eliminated this Siren right from the start. Sure, she was every male’s wet dream, built and beautiful, but Orpheus wasn’t one to be easily swayed from his goal. Isadora knew that better than anyone. And she’d had her first inkling of an answer when she’d seen the Siren’s reaction to the news that Orpheus’s brother was trapped in the Underworld. Now she knew for certain there was some kind of connection between these two. His look didn’t say You can’t tag along because I want to kill you but looked more like I don’t want you around because you could get hurt.

And Isadora couldn’t help it. She grinned. Oh, these stupid males and their twisted sense of heroics. Demetrius had tried that protective bologna on her and look how well that had kept her away. Judging from the headstrong Siren blocking the doorway, there was no way Orpheus was getting out of here without her.

And knowing that, Isadora’s estimation of the Siren went way, way up.

“Go back to bed, Siren,” he growled.

“I would,” she tossed back, “but it was suddenly too cold for my liking. Lucky for me I found these clothes in a box up there. What do you think?”

Demetrius and Isadora exchanged glances, and from her soul mate’s what the hell? expression she knew he was noticing their connection too.

“I couldn’t care less about what you wear,” Orpheus ground out, “and I don’t need or want you or your help.”

Skyla didn’t answer. Only smiled sweetly, which, Isadora guessed from Orpheus’s locked-jaw reaction, was way out of character for her.

Orpheus looked at Demetrius. “Are you ready or what?”

“Ask him if Maelea told him where the entrance to Underworld is located,” Skyla said to Isadora.

“Fuck,” Orpheus muttered.

Skyla grinned wider. “No thanks, daemon. Not right now. Maybe later, though.”

To Isadora, Orpheus said, “Go get Maelea for me, would you?”

“I wouldn’t bother,” Skyla said. “She doesn’t know where the entrance is. And this time I’m not lying. Persephone purposely hasn’t told her for safety reasons. It’s common knowledge if she crosses into the Underworld to see her mother, Hades has the right to strike her down. On earth she’s safe.”

Orpheus’s shoulders tightened but he didn’t look away from Isadora. “Who else do we know who might know how to get to the Underworld?”

“No one,” Isadora answered, not sure she wanted to be stuck in the middle of this. “I mean, I’ve heard rumors of the Bermuda Triangle, but—”

“Good luck finding that,” Skyla muttered. “How long are you willing to search, daemon? It could take days, weeks, months even. Think he’s got months left in him?”

She was talking about Gryphon, and from the fury in Orpheus’s eyes it was clear he didn’t like her bullying her way in. Skyla didn’t look the least intimidated by him, though. The tension in the room kicked the temperature up a good three degrees.

“You’re not going,” Orpheus said. “You’ll slow me down. I don’t have time to hop a plane.”

“You don’t have to. Unlike Maelea or your Argonauts, Sirens can flash on earth, just like you. Though I’m definitely jealous of the flashing-through-walls thing.” She grinned. “Get used to the fact I’m going with you, daemon. It’s called follow-through. You taught me all about follow-through.”

“Motherfucking sonofabitch,” Orpheus muttered as he headed for the door.

Skyla shot Isadora another grin and then followed.

As boots echoed across the gleaming hardwood, Demetrius reached for Isadora’s hand. “Kardia—”

“Don’t worry.” She squeezed his fingers, loving that he reached for her even though the others were technically still in the room. Maybe there was hope he would slowly come around after all. Maybe it was a sign he was giving up this fool’s idea she’d be better off with his brother. “I’ll have Casey and Theron take me home with them. Go. Just whatever you do, be careful.”

“I will.” He lowered his head, pressed a swift, warm, gone-way-too-fast kiss to her lips. His hand grazed her belly and warmth shot up from the spot, spread through her ribs and chest and encircled her heart. “Take care of my daughter.”

“Son,” she countered, grinning like a fool because it was the first time he’d called their baby anything but “it.”

“Let’s hope not.” He kissed her again, then pulled back. And in his dark, mesmerizing eyes, heat pooled. A heat that would have to sustain her at least a little while longer. “We’ll finish this when I get back.”

“You bet that cute ass of yours we will, Argonaut.”

He cast her a devilishly handsome smile as he followed the others out of the room.

Alone, Isadora wrapped her arms around her waist and sighed. She hated lying to him, but if he knew she had no plans to go back to Argolea right now he’d never leave. And for his own mental well-being, he needed to be with Orpheus and help save Gryphon.

When their footfalls turned to silence, she blew out another breath, closed her eyes and focused, drawing on the internal power of the Horae, the ancient goddesses of balance and wisdom. The winged omega marking on her inner thigh heated and vibrated, and she knew the markings each of her sisters shared were vibrating as well. As the ancient power flowed through her, she triggered that internal communication system she and her two sisters had been perfecting over the last few months.

Demetrius might want her to go home, and Orpheus might not want her help, but neither was getting what he wanted right now. This was bigger than both of them. This was bigger than them all.

The mountain air was thick and muggy, the result of a warm front that had moved through the area. As Skyla stood in the shadow of a large palm tree, she glanced toward Orpheus, deep in conversation with Demetrius ten feet away.

He’d barely said two words to her since they’d flashed to Corinth. And though a part of her was a little peeved over that fact—especially considering what they’d done to each other only hours ago—Skyla couldn’t help but be impressed. Orpheus knew how to blend in with human society. He barely seemed fazed by cities or technology or unknown terrains. And that, she supposed, was how he’d survived so long, hiding in the shadows, crossing back and forth between worlds, tormenting the gods whenever the opportunity arose.

A small part of her liked that about him. Liked that he didn’t give a shit what people—or gods—thought of him. And this new infatuation had nothing to do with the fact he was sexy as all get-out in those jeans that hugged his ass and that tight black button-down that accentuated his muscles. Or that he had a hard look about him, one that screamed badass to the core. What intrigued her were the inconsistencies in this image he worked so hard to portray. The moments of gentleness he’d never cop to. The concern he hid from those around him. The worry she knew he felt for his brother but wouldn’t discuss.

That was the real Orpheus. Not the daemon he wanted her to think defined him. Not the troublemaker he wanted the world to see. More and more, the word hero kept revolving in her mind whenever she looked at him. What she didn’t quite understand was why he couldn’t see it.

The word hero made her think of the lies Athena had told her, and before she could stop it her mind drifted to Olympus. Tension pulled at her chest. Zeus would not be happy when he found out she’d failed at her mission. If he sent other Sirens to finish the job as he had last time…

Orpheus stepped toward her. His jaw was scruffy, his gray eyes like polished granite in the sunlight. And though she could tell from his scowl he was trying to put distance between them after what had happened last night, the memory of his mouth, of his hands and tongue and what he could do to her with only a look heated her insides and drew all other thought from her mind. Zeus and Olympus and her future included.

She wanted him again. More than she had last night. And that was new for her. The last time she’d wanted someone had been thousands of years ago. When she’d been infatuated with Cynurus. Though they were technically the same…this was different. It was stronger. It was hotter. It consumed her on a level that wasn’t even close to the same.

His eyes narrowed as he drew close. “I don’t like that look.”

She smiled, loving that she put him on guard. It meant he was feeling the same damn thing as she. “What look?”

“The one that says you’re plotting something.”

Need pulsed through her. She was plotting something. What she was going to do about her order. How she was going to keep Zeus from going after him. When she was going to get the man in front of her back in bed, hopefully sooner rather than later.

He nodded to the west. “Apophis’s compound is just on the other side of those hills. Probably guarded by a dozen witches.”

“He’ll be expecting an attack,” Demetrius pointed out, moving up on his side.

Orpheus scrolled through screens on his fancy phone. “Which is why he’ll never see us coming.”

Skyla glanced from male to male. “What are you two planning?”

Orpheus grinned, tucked his phone in his back pocket. A sinister twist of his lips did wicked hot things to her blood and told her he was planning his own something. “To lure him out. With a new recruit.”

Oh, no. She took a step back. “You two are Medean, not me.”

“Yes, sweetheart, but you’ve got the goods. Apophis only likes females. Special females. I’m thinking maybe you can be of use after all.”

A shimmer of foreboding rushed down her spine. Yes, she wanted him, but something told her what he had planned wasn’t anywhere near what she had in mind.

“Relax, Siren,” he said. “You may like this. Would I ever lead you astray?”

Yes, yes he would. And he’d enjoy every minute of it.

The problem was, so would she.