Enraptured

Chapter 6

This had been the day from hell. Not only had Athena nearly lost her patience with the most recent of her Siren recruits—gods, was the blessed well of recruits getting stupider by the hour or what?—she’d had to deal with her half brother, Ares, and she made it a point to avoid the conceited god if she could.

He was pissed at Poseidon for some slight he deemed reprehensible and he wanted Athena to send a few Sirens to fuck with the Lord of the Seas. Like she had time for that? Or wanted to take on Poseidon right now? She had her hands full with Zeus and Skyla and this whole damn Cynurus/Orpheus debacle.

Gods almighty.

She pushed Ares to the back of her mind, ran a hand over her hair, and climbed the marble steps to the archives. Inside the massive marble building, the scents of paper and ink met her nose. Columns lined the inside of the library, flanked by enormous wooden shelving units tricked out in decorative moldings. She wove through stacks of ancient leather tomes and stopped when she came across Skyla in a back corner, sitting at a mahogany table, books open all around her. “I thought I’d find you here.”

Skyla glanced up, then refocused on her books, jotting notes on a piece of paper at her elbow. “Not a stretch, when you know this is where I come to do research.”

The Siren was still pissed. Well, Athena couldn’t blame her for that, now could she? “Does this mean you’ve decided to move ahead with your duties?”

Skyla flipped the book closed, pushed to stand. She was still dressed in the same clothes as before—black shirt, fitted slim pants, and kick-ass goth boots—but unlike before, her hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail and her makeup was fresh. And she was wearing her fighting gear—the leather breastplate with the Siren stamp and the leather arm guards that reached her elbows. “It does.”

The Siren didn’t sound excited. But at least she seemed resigned. That was as much as Athena could hope for.

“He’s still looking for Maelea,” Skyla said, folding her paper and slipping it into her right boot. “Now that I know this is about the Orb, I’m guessing he’ll use her to locate the medallion. If you gave me all the information I needed up front to do my job, I’d be far more effective.”

Maelea—technically known as Melinoe, but she’d dropped that name long ago—was the waiflike creature who’d wandered the earth for over three thousand years. Not a god, not a human, she was the daughter of Zeus and Persephone, conceived one dark night when Zeus descended into the Underworld and disguised himself as Hades, then seduced the Lord of the Underworld’s wife near the banks of the River Styx. Zeus was always doing shit like that, causing trouble and making waves, but he got away with it because he was Zeus. King of fucking everything. It was no great surprise that Hades had been pissed at both his brother and his wife when he discovered their affair, or that he’d cast their bastard child out of the Underworld, banishing the girl to the human realm, where she’d wandered ever since, caught between worlds.

Athena had given Skyla the hint before—that the daemon hybrid was tracking Maelea—but she hadn’t told her why. “I’ll expect an update when you find her.”

Skyla nodded, stepped past Athena, and headed for the front of the library.

“Skyla.”

Skyla hesitated but didn’t look back. “What?”

There was still hurt there. Athena didn’t feel bad for causing the Siren pain, but neither did she like the resulting resentment. “Duty has saved you. Remember that.”

Skyla didn’t move, and in the silence Athena sensed that the Siren wanted to say something but didn’t. She simply nodded again and disappeared out the front of the archives.

Athena stared after her, trying to decipher what it must be like to be mortal. Though Skyla didn’t age, she was still mortal in every sense of the word. She truly was the toughest Siren Athena had ever trained, but that didn’t make her invincible. The iron shield she’d built around herself since Cynurus’s death wouldn’t last forever. And when it finally gave, Athena had a sinking suspicion the aftermath just might cause a host of problems for the whole of Olympus.

Unless, of course, Athena headed it off before that happened.

Footsteps echoed to her right. She didn’t turn to look to see who’d joined her. She already knew who’d been lurking in the stacks because she’d told her to wait there until Skyla left. “Gather two other Sirens. I have a job for you.”

Sappheire paused at Athena’s side, her gaze straying to the front of the building. “Khloe and Rhebekkah are available.”

“Good.” Athena turned toward the blue-eyed Siren who would one day soon take Skyla’s place. “Send them to Argolea. A new queen rules. I want them to enlist the help of the Argonauts.”

“Toward what end?”

“To locate the warlock who holds the Orb of Krónos.”

“And what if they won’t? As far as they know, the hybrid is one of them.”

“They will. Especially when you tell them what he really is.”

“And what of her?” Sappheire nodded toward the door Skyla had just exited.

“Follow her. And report back to me what she and the hybrid are doing.”

“You think she’s compromised.”

Athena chose her worlds carefully. “I think it’s possible Skyla is letting emotions rule her actions.”

“And if you’re right?”

Loyalty was a sacred trait that couldn’t be taught. But even to the gods, self-preservation trumped loyalty by a long shot. “Then you and I both know what has to be done.”

Orpheus had been in a piss-poor mood ever since the blond with the hypnotizing violet eyes had ditched him three nights ago in her apartment. He’d replayed the events over in his mind and only two things were clear.

One, she was definitely otherworldly. Even if she hadn’t poofed right out of his arms, he’d have known it from the mind-blowing sex they’d had in her hall. Human females didn’t blow his mind. Argolean females either. He’d even slept with a few goddesses in his many years and not even they’d rocked his world the way Skyla had. He tried to ignore the fact she was the only one who’d ever flipped him end over end like that, but couldn’t.

He had to get the female out of his head. The only thing that really mattered—and the second point that was clear to him—was that the sex obviously hadn’t been as earth-shattering for her as it had been for him. Evidenced by the way she’d run like the wind as soon as it was over.

Whatever. He didn’t care. Skata, he shouldn’t even be thinking of her anyway. He had more important things on his mind. Like locating that damn Maelea creature, the one he’d let get away the night he’d met Skyla. The witches in Argolea had told him she could sense energy shifts on earth. If that sonofabitch warlock Apophis was using the Orb’s energy, Maelea would be able to feel it. And she’d be able to tell Orpheus right where the slimy piece of shit was hiding.

He stayed in the shadows of the ritzy Lake Washington neighborhood he’d tracked Maelea to. Two nights of waiting and she hadn’t returned to the small town of Auburn, Washington, where the concert had taken place. But he’d lucked out when he overheard a conversation in a bar between two human males about the weird black-haired woman who routinely hung out at the death-metal concerts. What she’d been doing with the metalheads, Orpheus still didn’t know. But he wasn’t about to question a streak of luck, especially not when the waitress told him Maelea had mentioned living somewhere near Lake Washington in the Laurelhurst area.

He’d spent the last night running reconnaissance and he was pretty sure which house was hers. The daemon inside him could sense the light and dark warring within her. The new moon cast not a hint of light as he hid in the shadows and waited for the streetlights to go out. At this time of night—nearly two a.m.—not a soul was awake, but in this rich area, he knew neighbors looked out for one another. And a six-foot-six, two-hundred-seventy-pound stranger lurking in the shadows would draw attention he didn’t need.

He shook off the feeling he was being watched, crept up the empty drive with its manicured hedge and towering trees blocking out the other houses. The property was a sprawling four acres right on the waterfront. Prime real estate he had no doubt Maelea had purchased back when land in the Seattle area was cheap. He briefly wondered how she kept her neighbors from asking questions about her ageless appearance, then brushed it aside. No doubt she kept to herself. He couldn’t exactly see her at the neighborhood picnic, getting chummy with the local mom’s club.

He moved around the back of the house, felt the daemon in him stir. Yeah, she was definitely in there. He could feel the blackness of her soul, along with that same odd light from Olympus.

Man, that would suck. Light and dark warring together within, never letting one get the upper hand, never giving the bearer any kind of relief. And he thought he had it bad.

The back patio curved outward, covered by a trellis of climbing ivy. He picked his way around patio furniture and up the three cement steps to peer in the back window of the house.

“Rethink that move, daemon.”

He froze. Knew that voice. For some reason wasn’t surprised to hear it here, now.

Slowly he turned and peered through the dark with his enhanced sight toward the woman who’d rocked his world just three nights before.

Correction—not a woman. Dressed in what looked like some ancient Spartan fighting gear with…shit, a very familiar symbol stamped on the breastplate…Skyla’s affiliation suddenly made sense.

He turned back to peer into the house. No lights. Nothing moved. No sign anyone but a ghost lived here. “I was wondering when you’d show up again.”

“I thought I warned you to steer clear of this.”

“Well, lucky for you I never do as I’m told.” He glanced inside the window ledge at the LED that indicated an alarm system was turned on. “And at my age, I don’t plan to start now.” He took a step back, looked up at the second-floor window. Still no lights.

“I—”

“I’ve been trying to figure out what you are. We both know you’re not human, though you put on a good act. You’re definitely not a god. I’d have picked up on that right away. You aren’t a Grace or a Muse—not enough class. For a minute I thought nymph.” He shot her a look, from the swell of her breasts pressing up behind that leather breastplate to the knee-high black boots showcasing her shapely legs. “You screw like one.”

A disgusted look crossed her features. Was that jealousy? No, not from her.

He turned back to the house. “Then I realized there was only one creature built like an X-rated Barbie doll able to kick a daemon’s ass.” He dropped the humor. “Tell your boss Zeus to go fuck himself.”

“Cy—”

He didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. He flashed inside the house, turned to look at her through the window. Her shocked expression said she hadn’t expected he could flash through walls.

Get used to surprises, sweetheart. I sure have.

He shot her a salute and turned for the front of the house. In the entryway he stopped. Listened. His oversensitive hearing picked up one heartbeat. One even breathing pattern.

He grasped the old oak banister, climbed the curved stairs toward the second floor. The creak of wood behind him stopped his feet and brought his head around.

“Orpheus,” Skyla whispered. “Rethink this move.”

Skata. How the hell had she gotten past the security system?

“Look, lady,” he said in an equally low whisper. “I know you’ve got a hard-on for me and all, but it wasn’t that great. I’m not interested anymore.”

She might be trained by the gods themselves, but she didn’t hide the sting his words inflicted as quickly as she should have. For a tiny second he regretted saying them. Then the feeling fled.

“If you’re determined to drag her into this, go ahead,” she whispered in a hard tone. “But I’ll not let you hurt her.”

As if he cared. He reached the second floor and looked right and left. The door at the end of the hall was open. He headed that way. Paused outside. Peered past the door into what looked like a bedroom suite that ran from one end of the house to the other.

The bed along the wall was empty. To his left, lights from windows that looked out at the street streamed into the room. From the right, dots of illumination peppered the darkened windows at the back of house. Ahead, a door that had to lead to a bathroom was cracked just an inch. And though he couldn’t see her, he sensed Maelea close. Hiding like the ghoul she’d become.

He took a step into the room, conscious that Skyla wasn’t far behind.

“She’s not here,” Skyla whispered.

Yeah, she was. He turned toward the female he still couldn’t stop thinking about but who was quickly becoming a thorn in his side. “Why don’t you see if she’s downstairs.”

“And leave you here alone? I don’t think—”

The double doors to his right flew open. A high-pitched shriek echoed through the room just as a slight figure draped all in black charged, hands held high over her head, holding a blade as big as a machete poised to slice him in two.

He dropped back three steps. The female hurled herself at him, the whites of her fury-filled eyes blinding in the darkness. She slammed into his body. Another shriek filled the room as she sliced out with the weapon. “I will kill you!”

She couldn’t have been more than five-five, a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. Didn’t even knock him off his feet when she barreled into him. He easily overpowered her, grasped her forearms, and wrestled for the blade now only centimeters from his face. When he pulled it from her fingers, she screamed in denial. He tossed it to his left and flipped her around, her back pressed to his front, her arms pinned beneath both of his. “Stop. Now.”

“I’ll never stop,” she screamed. “Never. Do you hear me?”

Bloody hell, she was stronger than she looked. With her arms still locked tight under his, he eased back a few steps until he felt the bed, dropped down, and pinned her on his lap, hooking one leg over both of hers to hold her still. “Stop fighting, do you hear me? We’re not going to hurt you.”

She continued to struggle, and when she realized she was trapped, finally stilled. But her chest rose and fell with her labored breaths, and Orpheus knew she was plotting a way out.

“Orpheus.” Skyla stepped forward from the shadows, concern across her perfect features as the lights from outside reflected off her face. He hadn’t lied when he said she was built like an X-rated Barbie. Not only was she the hottest thing he’d ever seen, that warrior-princess getup with the arm guards and breastplate and those ridiculous platform boots made him hard with just a look.

The female in his arms stopped breathing. And too late he realized she thought he was turned on because of her.

Not even close.

“Are you calm enough for me to let go?” he asked, careful to keep his tone even and his body still. “Or do I need to restrain you?”

Silence.

“Orpheus,” Skyla warned again.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said. “I just want to talk.”

The female nodded once.

He didn’t trust her, but she was no threat. And he didn’t want to restrain her if he didn’t have to. A willing hostage was way better than an enraged one. “Okay then. Nice and easy, you got it?”

Maelea nodded again.

He eased his leg off her lap, let go of her arms one by one. As soon as she was free, she bolted away and flipped around, pressing her back into the wall and searching the ground for her blade.

He rose, kicked it toward the bathroom door, spread his feet to use his size as intimidation.

“Now that we’ve got the awkwardness out of the way, let me introduce myself. I’m Orpheus. The chick in the Halloween getup over there is a Siren.” Skyla flicked him an irritated look that only amused him. “You’re familiar with Delia in the Argolean realm? She sent me to find you.”

Confusion crossed Maelea’s face. She shot a look toward the weapon behind him again. “The witch? Why?”

Delia was the leader of the Medean witch enclave that resided in the Aegis Mountains outside the Argolean city of Tiyrns. And she’d been a personal friend of Orpheus’s mother and was now a friend of his. “I’m looking for a warlock named Apophis. He broke free of his prison in Argolea and crossed into this realm a few months ago. He has something that belongs to me. I want it back. It’s as simple as that.”

The female’s wary eyes darted his way again. She wore a long-sleeved black tunic that covered her hips, the sleeves so long they fell all the way to her fingertips, and a full, black, bohemian-style skirt that swallowed her slim frame. Straight black hair fell around her shoulders like a curtain. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I want you to tell me where he is.”

“And what if I won’t?”

“I’m hoping,” he said carefully, putting a hint of malice in the words, “that won’t be your choice.”

Skyla’s blond head darted his way, and in his peripheral vision he read the warning in her violet eyes, but he ignored it.

After a silence, Maelea said, “I don’t know anything about any warlock.”

She was lying. The daemon in him stirred as his patience waned. He took a step toward her. “Maelea—”

She pressed her hands against the wall at her back. Glanced past him to the weapon she’d never reach. “I’m warning you. Stay back.”

He nearly laughed. But he was well past laughing. He needed to know where that shitty warlock was hiding. He took another step her way. “If you won’t cooperate willingly, I’ll have to come up with creative ways to make you talk.”

“Orpheus—”

A howl cut off Skyla’s protest. Both females turned to the windows at the front of the house. The daemon in Orpheus vibrated with excitement, sensing something otherworldly outside.

The howl echoed through the still night air again. Maelea’s eyes went wide with fear. Skyla stepped past him and looked out the front window.

“Shit.”

“What?” Orpheus reached her side and peered out into the dark.

“Hellhounds.”

Three enormous doglike creatures with pointy ears, red eyes, and protruding fangs stood on the front lawn, looking up at the house.

“Skata.” It wasn’t daemons who’d been following him. It was Hades’s miserable underlings.

“You really are on a roll tonight, aren’t you, daemon? Is there a god you haven’t pissed off yet this week?” Skyla shot him a way to go, dumbass look, then turned back to Maelea. “Shit, she’s gone.”

He whipped around. Sure enough, the room was empty. And Maelea’s weapon of choice was missing as well. “Motherfucker.”

Skyla pulled a metal bar from the inside of her boot. Seconds later her bow unraveled. She reached inside her collar and extracted what looked like a toothpick but which grew into a full-blown arrow right before his eyes.

“Now that is sweet,” Orpheus murmured before he thought better of it.

“Check the first floor for her.” Skyla readied her weapon. “Those things will tear her to pieces if she tries to run.”

“Now you don’t mind me being alone with Ghoul Girl?” He stepped toward the door. “How the tides have changed.”

She twisted back to the window, slid the pane open a crack, and brought the bowstring to her shoulder. “If it’s a choice between you and Hades’s hounds, I’ll take you any day.”

“Gee, I feel so loved.” He moved into the hall, intent on putting the Siren out of his mind and finding that damn Maelea before she screwed this up for him for good, but paused when a whisper met his ears.

You aren’t now, but you were once, daemon.

He whipped around just as Skyla pulled the arrow back near her ear, let it go with deadly precision. He heard the whir as it spiraled toward its target, then the yelp and howl of the hound as its flesh tore open. And couldn’t ignore the fact those words hadn’t been in his head. She’d said them. Out loud.

The world spun. Blurred then cleared, until the bedroom walls disappeared and he was surrounded by trees. Standing in a field of green. The woman in front of him poised with her bow, exactly as she’d been in Maelea’s bedroom. Only this time she was aiming for a target propped against the trunk of a tree.

She released the arrow like a pro. It sailed through the air, struck the target dead center with a resounding thwack. With a triumphant grin, she lowered the bow and turned to face him.

“Your turn. Try to beat that, lover.”

His lungs tightened on a gasp. And an ache, the same one he’d experienced in the hallway of her apartment two nights before, settled deep in his chest.

Holy Hades. Whatever head game the Siren was playing with him had to stop now.

A scream from the back of the house jolted him out of his trance. The trees and field disappeared like a wisp of fading fog.

“Maelea.” Skyla passed him in a dead run.

Orpheus simply pictured the back patio and flashed there. Feet from him, Maelea stood frozen, the blade she’d used on him earlier shaking in her hand as she stared out at the side yard and the hellhound growling an ominous warning.

The door crashed open behind him. Skyla leaped onto the patio, spotted the hellhound, and froze. “Orpheus! Behind you.”

At Orpheus’s back, another growl echoed. He looked that way to see another hound, its eyes glowing as red as death. Skyla and Maelea stepped backward toward him as two more hounds joined the fray, followed by the bleeding and pissed hound with Skyla’s arrow sticking out of its shoulder.

“If you’re thinking about shifting so we have a chance here,” Skyla muttered, “I wouldn’t object.”

Orpheus couldn’t agree more. Though the fact the Siren had flipped from trying to stop him to trying to help him wasn’t lost on him. He tuned in to his inner daemon, felt his eyes morph to glowing green and the power of the daemon ripple through his limbs. In a rush he released the hold he kept on his dark side and unleashed control.

Nothing happened.

“Um…” Skyla raised her bow, pulled the arrow back as she cast him a frantic look. “Now would be a good time.”

He focused deeper on the daemon’s strength rumbling right beneath the surface. Pictured it consuming him as it had done so many times before.

Only again, nothing happened.

“Sonofabitch,” he hissed.

Skyla’s eyes darted from hellhound to hellhound. “Orpheus?”

Panic closed in. He could feel its strength, damn it. Why wasn’t it working?

He reached for the knife he kept strapped to his hip. “I don’t think that’s gonna work this time.”

“What?”

The hound directly in front of them chuckled.

It chuckled. Holy hell.

“Damn it,” Skyla muttered. “This is not good.”

“No shit,” Orpheus tossed back. Damn it, what the fuck was going on?

Maelea’s entire body shook as she backed into Orpheus. But this time she didn’t seem to mind being close to him. “What—what do we do?”

Five bloodthirsty hellhounds against him, Skyla, and the quivering Ghoul Girl. He was a fierce fighter who knew a little magic. Even without his daemon, he and the Siren could probably survive these odds if they worked together, but not Ghoul Girl. They’d lose her in a heartbeat.

And he wasn’t about to lose her. Not when she was the key to everything.

He thought of the lake behind them, a good hundred yards down the sloping grass. “You got a boat?”

Maelea swallowed hard. “Y-yes. A power boat. It’s stored in the boathouse.”

“You thinking about making a run for it?” Skyla asked in a low voice, her bow poised to shoot.

The injured hound growled low in its throat.

“Thinking about it,” Orpheus muttered as the monsters slowly moved forward, forcing them back several steps and onto the grass.

He glanced behind him, toward the boathouse. They’d never make it. Even injured, those hounds could run like the wind.

“You have something Hades wants,” the hound to the left growled in a voice that was half man, half beast.

Oh, fucking fantastic. It could speak.

Orpheus reached into his pocket and pulled out the earth element. The one Queen Isadora had found and given to him months ago. Just before he’d left Argolea to find that warlock.

The monsters drew to a stop.

Skyla darted a look at the glittering quarter-sized diamond in his palm. The one stamped with the symbol of the Titans. “What the hell?”

All five beasts stared with rapt attention at the element he held. At the element that fit in one of the four chambers of the Orb of Krónos. Though the element held a special kind of power Orpheus had yet to tap, it wouldn’t be fully useful until all the elements were joined with the Orb. Then the powers would combine and the bearer of the Orb would be stronger than Hades. Stronger, even, than Zeus.

And the monsters in front of him knew that.

Orpheus closed his fingers over the element and squeezed, harnessing the Medean powers bequeathed by his mother. He hadn’t played with the element much since Isadora had given it to him, and he had no idea what to expect, but he wasn’t against harnessing every shred of magic from it if he could.

But nothing happened, aside from the element growing warm in his fist.

The lead hound moved forward and growled. “We’ll take that from you now, Argonaut.”

The word Argonaut echoed in Orpheus’s head. And he thought of his brother, Gryphon, confined to the Underworld because of that damn warlock. Of the moment Gryphon’s Argonaut markings had appeared on Orpheus’s skin. Of the real Argonauts, who didn’t give a shit about him or what had happened to his brother.

His anger harnessed a flash of power. Medean magic shot down his arm and erupted through the earth element in his hand.

The ground shook in a violent blast of energy that knocked Orpheus back two feet. A hellhound shot forward with a snarl and a snap of its jaws. Maelea screamed. Skyla shouted something he couldn’t make out. The other hounds howled in unison. And a roar that sounded like Hades himself rushing up from the center of the earth echoed everywhere.