She pressed a hand to her chest, curled her fingers into the soft material of her top, and tried to keep the cold at bay, not wanting to feel it.
“Can you think of any reason why those daemons attacked you?” Calistos’s deep voice rolled over her, warming her and then chilling her to the bone when she realised what he had asked.
“D-daemons?” Her eyes widened, ice skating down her spine as she caught flashes of those people who had attacked her.
She stared at him as the images gained pace, horrific replays that went from black and white to dreadful colour, and yet the blood that soaked her hands was still oily black.
Her eyes shot wider.
As black and oily as what had been on Calistos when they had brought him into the hospital.
“Marinda.” His voice was close to her and she tensed as his hand came down on her shoulder, shirked his touch and stumbled backwards off the stool, barely keeping her balance as she reared away from him. His fingers flexed, his hand suspended in the air between them as he looked at her, his blue eyes holding an apology.
She couldn’t breathe.
She paced the room, struggling for air as everything whirled in her head again, faster and faster, a collision of violent images that made her sick to her stomach.
Her gaze drifted to the two tall sash windows beyond the dining table. The night outside looked darker than it had ever been, set her on edge as she stared at it, aware that out there were things called daemons and they were after her. What if there were more of them?
Calistos had fought them, and he had ended up seriously injured. If a warrior god couldn’t best them, a man her father had painted as a superhero, what hope did she have?
A feeling cemented inside her.
She wasn’t safe in Paris.
“London.” She pivoted to face him. “You mentioned London. I need to go to London. I promised my father I would go there.”
“What’s in London?” Calistos canted his head and his blond eyebrows dipped low, narrowing his blue eyes.
“I don’t know. I only know I’m meant to be there, before my birthday. It was important to him… so important it was the last thing he said to me.”
Before he had said that he loved her and had slipped from her life forever.
“Before you left home?” Cal edged a step towards her, his frown deepening.
The numbness returned, so the only thing she felt was the pain that burned in her heart, ripping it apart all over again.
Her brow furrowed and she couldn’t stop the tears from forming.
“Before he died.”
He grimaced. “Shit. I didn’t—”
She brushed past him and slumped onto the stool again. “You didn’t know.”
She didn’t really want to talk about it, not when her heart was hurting so badly, but as Calistos settled onto the stool beside her, she couldn’t hold it back.
“After what happened at the hospital, I went to see him. I felt something was different… wrong. I couldn’t remember things and something just didn’t feel right. I thought it was maybe because I had returned to Paris early from summer break, so I decided to surprise Papa with a visit. When I got there—” Her throat closed up and she tried to clear the lump from it. Cal placed his hand on her shoulder, and this time she didn’t push him away. The gentle pressure of his grip was comforting, offering strength that she took as she lifted her gaze from the marble counter and settled it on him. “Someone had attacked him and he was… dying. He told me things. How he could see the future and that his bedtime stories had all been real… and he told me I had to go to London, and I had to trust someone.”
She looked into Cal’s eyes as that feeling she’d had grew stronger.
“I think I’m meant to trust you.”
His eyebrows shot up and he jerked a thumb at himself. “Me? Why me?”
“I don’t know.” She couldn’t keep the frustration from her voice as she rubbed her forehead. “He just told me to trust you, and that I had to be in London, and that people would be after me.”
He had also told her to have faith and be strong.
She wasn’t sure she could do that, not when everything felt so bleak and a feeling of being doomed constantly pressed down on her. Another flash of black blood and dead daemons had her squeezing her eyes shut. That hadn’t been her. She wasn’t violent. She wasn’t like that.
“I think there’s two of them.” She pushed the words out as she opened her eyes and fixed them on Cal, using him to distract her from her memories and keep her in the present. “On the CCTV footage the police had, two men went into the house and only one came out.”
And after tonight she had a suspicion she knew why he had never been caught on camera leaving the house.
“I think he disappeared… Like your brother did.”
Cal bit out a curse and looked away from her.
For the first time since meeting him, he looked genuinely worried.
And that terrified her.
If he was worried, how bad were things?
“I know what they look like.” The marble counter went out of focus as she built a mental image of them, pulling up the one she had seared onto her mind so she would never forget them. As they came into focus, that burning began again, deep in her heart at first. It slowly spread through her like lava in her veins, destroying the cold and the numbness, filling her with a dark and powerful need that she feared would consume her if she didn’t fight it. The coldness of her voice shocked her as she said, “I’m going to find them and I’m going to make them pay. I’m going to avenge my father.”
“Woah, now, let’s not be hasty.” Cal’s grip on her shoulder tightened, as if he feared she might disappear as his brother and that man clearly had. “I think shit just crossed a line into damned serious territory and I need to call my brothers.”
Hurt, so fierce and deep that it stole her breath, crashed over her, extinguishing the fire burning inside her as a thought she kept wanting to shut out hit her again.
All those stories her father had told her had been real.
He had been able to see the future.
Had he been able to see his own death?
A chill raised the hairs on her arms, turning her flesh to goosebumps.
“Your dad was a Carrier.” Those words had her gaze lifting to Cal as he palmed her shoulder. “It’s what we call a species that is a sort of descendant of a demigod. I know a few of them. Two women on our side are Carriers. One can heal, and the other can read people’s minds and their intentions. It sounds like your dad was a Seer.”
“A Seer.” It was only a small piece of information, but it comforted her and made her feel closer to him again. It eased some of the hurt in her heart that had bloomed when she had discovered he had kept things from her. “Maybe I’m a Carrier?”
Cal’s handsome face twisted in that way it did whenever he was weighing his options and didn’t like any of them.
“I don’t think you are. I mean, you might be. I’d have to ask my brothers. But I have the feeling you’re something else. I’ve never seen anything below Keras in a bad mood cause as much destruction as you did tonight.”
She did shirk his grip now. “It wasn’t me.”
Cal held both hands up beside his head. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
He looked her over, a flicker of worry in his eyes, or possibly fear. Did he think she would hurt him if he upset her?
Was he afraid of her?
She didn’t like the thought that he might be, so she mumbled, “I’m sorry too. I just don’t want to think about… that.”
He nodded. “Got it.”
He lifted his hand and she felt she should stop him, but as his palm came to rest gently against her cheek and the warmth of it seeped into her, she fell into his blue eyes instead. A haziness came over her as she charted the subtle flecks of grey and white in his irises, and the pull she had felt towards him in the hospital tugged at her again. She leaned closer to him, lost
and adrift, but unafraid, because she felt as if she was home.
His voice dropped to a low whisper as he stroked his thumb over her cheek, his eyes darting between hers. “I’m meant to be making you feel better, but I think all I’ve done is made things worse. I’m a terrible host.”
When she shook her head, his hand slipped lower, brushing her jaw before it teased her neck, sending a shiver through her that felt all too pleasant.
His gaze dropped to her body. “I am. Look… I’m letting you sit here in wet clothes. You’ll probably catch a cold and my brothers will kill me.”
He slipped from the stool.
His hand slipped from her neck, sending another shiver rolling through her, one that stirred heat inside her. She tried to shake that feeling away, but it lingered, spread to warm every inch of her, and that set her on edge. He might be handsome, charming in his own way, but she wasn’t going to fall under his spell like all the other women he chased did. He was a player, and that meant he wasn’t her type.
She wanted a forever sort of love like her father and mother had shared.
Cal offered his hand.
When she only looked at it, he said, “I’m not trying anything. I just figured maybe a nice hot shower will warm you up and make you feel better. You can have one in my room while I’m cooking your meal. There’s plenty of time.”
As nervous as she should have been about showering in a strange apartment while there was a man in it—a man she found attractive—she found the idea too appealing to turn it down.
She eased down onto her feet but didn’t take his hand. Mostly because she didn’t trust herself. She had been attracted to men before, but had never acted on it, and she wouldn’t be acting on it now either. This was no time to let lust get the better of her.
What she needed right now was information, a clear head, and to focus on her predicament, treating it with the seriousness it deserved given that her life was at stake.
She made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. Hers locked with them and the heat in her veins cranked up another degree.
Apparently, her body had a different idea to her mind about what she needed.
Marinda managed to tear her gaze away from his, turning her cheek to him.
Out of the corner of her eye, he looked at the hand she had rejected, rubbed it on his jeans, and headed for the living room.
Marinda followed him through it to a room that had the biggest bed she had ever seen. Dark blue satin covered it, a contrast to the white metal frame. A bed that looked homely, but also made for wicked things. He walked between it and the twin oak wardrobes that took up barely any wall space, and opened the door that filled the gap between two dressers, revealing white tiles and a sink.
“Everything you might need is in there.” He stepped away from the door. “You can change clothes too. Grab anything you want… or…”
He strode past her, leaving the room. When he came back, he was holding her backpack.
She had forgotten about it.
As soon as he was near to her, she grabbed it from him and held it to her chest, came close to cursing as she saw the front pocket was torn.
Cal moved, dragging her focus to him. And the phone he had pulled from his pocket.
“I lost my phone.” She pointed at the one he held. “Can I use that? I need to call someone.”
“Who?” His blue eyes narrowed on her.
“I was meant to meet my guardian, Cass, in London. I missed the train tonight because… and I need to speak to her. Please?” She was sure that Cass would be worried about her and she needed to set her mind at ease.
His eyes narrowed further and his irises turned stormy.
“You can’t tell her anything about this… about me.” He moved the hand he held the phone in behind his back.
“But Cass will know what to do.” Because since Marinda was a child, before Cass had returned home, her closest friend and the woman who was like a mother to her had always known exactly what to do.
And now she had the feeling that Cass knew things about her and about her father.
Swear to the gods.
And maybe, just maybe, Cass knew about Cal and his brothers too.
A breeze whirled around her, stirring the drying strands of her hair and his ponytail, and she felt sure he was the cause of it, and she was the reason behind the sudden change in his mood.
She just wasn’t sure why.
He tossed the phone onto the bed rather than handing it to her. “Call her then, but I’m not leaving this room, and if you say anything I don’t like…”
He didn’t finish that threat. He didn’t need to. She got the hint. Not that it made a difference to what she was going to say. She only wanted to tell Cass that she wouldn’t be able to meet her in London. Not right now anyway. She had the feeling that Cal could help her find her father’s killers, and she was going to make him do just that.
She would be in London before her birthday, so whatever her father had foreseen could come to pass.
But right now, she needed to avenge him.
Chapter 10
Rather than listening in on Marinda’s conversation and coming across as an overbearing, and untrusting, dick, Cal gave her some privacy. The meat was probably ruined by now, or at least in dire need of his attention. He did his best not to strain to hear her as he strode across the living room to the kitchen and switched on the radio.
He focused on cooking, but it was hard when his focus kept drifting back to his bedroom and the beautiful blonde currently occupying it.
A woman he felt drawn to now more than ever.
The revelation of what her father had been and that her mother was potentially something powerful from the Underworld. The anguish she had shown about losing her memories, and the fear he had caught in her eyes whenever she had thought about what she had done. It had all combined to provoke a reaction from him that still had him off balance.
He flexed the fingers of his right hand, swore his palm was still warm from the soft touch of her cheek against it. His heart thundered as it had when he had looked into her eyes and he glanced over his shoulder, towards his room.
Had she experienced that same zing in her blood, a fierce attraction that gripped and refused to let go?
He forced his focus back to cooking. It was just lust. It had been weeks since he had been with a woman and then she had crashed into his life, smelling like sweet roses and lilac, and he couldn’t get his damned mind off her.
As time trickled past, a thought popped into his head.
He did like her though.
He smiled as he tipped the meat into the dish, added beans and more ingredients, and heated them. She had strength. A hidden sort. With everything that had happened to her, she should have been on her knees, but she was still standing, and she was willing to face whatever awaited her.
Which he suspected was his enemy.
Had he pulled her into his mess? Gods, he hoped he hadn’t. He couldn’t bear the thought of getting someone he liked into trouble, and he couldn’t shake the fear that plagued him, had set up home in his heart and was already festering there.
She was going to end up dead too.
And it would be all his fault again.
He closed his eyes and breathed as fire ricocheted around his mind, broken veins of it bright in the darkness. His head throbbed and he rubbed his temple with his left hand, trying to ease the ache as it built.
“Let it go,” he breathed. He inhaled slowly through his nose, and then out through his mouth. Repeated it again and again, filling his lungs each time.
She wasn’t going to end up dead because of him, he would make sure of that.
Although, the way she had handled those daemons said she didn’t need his help. Or maybe she did. If she couldn’t remember it, then she had blacked out when it had happened. Which was troublesome, and just a little bit worrying.
Esher couldn’t remember the things he did when his other side was in cont
rol.
Did she have a dual personality like his brother did?
He set the casserole dish into the oven, grabbed the phone from the wall and speed-dialled Keras.
Who didn’t answer.
Either he had really pissed his brother off with his flippant remark about Enyo, or Keras was indisposed.
He tried Ares next.
His second oldest brother picked up on the first ring, his gruff baritone loud and holding a hint of alarm. “Keras?”
“No. Just me.” Cal rounded the island and leaned his backside against a stool. “Keras dumped Paris on me for a few days since our new development wasn’t fit for travel. She’s using my phone right now. What happened with Keras?”
Ares huffed. “Went off in a bad mood. You kicked the hornet’s nest and we all got stung for it, so thanks for that.”
Cal grimaced. “Sorry. He was really grinding my gears. Should’ve considered the consequences.”
“You never do. Why start now?” Ares grumbled and Cal bit his tongue, stopping himself from bringing up all the times Ares acted without thinking.
Which was around ten times a day.
“Is that Cal?” Marek’s warm voice sounded in the distance.
“Yeah. I think he’s calling for backup. Can’t handle a little human.” Ares was grinning. Cal knew it, and he wanted to step to Seville or wherever his two brothers were and punch it off his face.
Which would only end with him getting third-degree burns since Ares would lose his temper and his power over fire would act up, manifesting itself to cause a wall of deadly heat around his brother.
Sometimes, Cal wondered how Megan, Ares’s wife, was immune to his flames. Some of his brothers suspected she was closer to her demigod ancestor than most Carriers, giving her the power to resist being harmed by Ares’s flames and Daimon’s ice.
“I can handle her… but she isn’t human.” Cal relished the stunned silence that followed, wallowed in it for a while.
It wasn’t every day he knew something that Ares and Marek didn’t.
“What do you mean she isn’t human?” Ares said.
Not down the phone.
Cal jumped off the stool and whirled to face his brother where he filled the space on the other side of the kitchen island, his rough features set in a scowl that had his brown eyes gaining red flickers of fire.
Calistos: Guardians of Hades Series Book 5 Page 10