Wicked

by Elisabeth Naughton

  Cerek’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? Mono mia? Those were his exact words?”

  She nodded, her stomach already swirling with the puzzle pieces he was now putting together.

  “Skata,” he mumbled. “Aphrodite told me a story about Zagreus when I was trapped on Olympus. About the female he called mono mia.”

  “I know. I heard the same one from the Sirens when I was training there. If he really thinks Talisa is his mono mia...”

  “Then he’ll never let her go.” A new kind of urgency filled Cerek’s eyes. “Go find Cynna. Tell her what happened. Find out whatever she knows about Zagreus and his so-called mono mia. She spent almost a year with him. She has to know more than us. At this point, she might be our only chance of finding Talisa.”

  He released her and moved for the door.

  Turning, she said, “Where are you going?”

  “To stop Theron from torturing everyone in that club to get answers. Zagreus could be anywhere by now.”

  Elysia reached for her mate’s hand before he could leave. “I’ll find Cynna. But, Cerek, Max...”

  “I know.” He stilled in the doorway and looked down at her. “But try to think positively. If those satyrs really did turn on Zagreus, and they saw what Zagreus did to Max, they won’t kill Max. They’ll recognize his markings and use him as a bargaining chip, either to trade to Zagreus or someone else.”

  “That doesn’t exactly ease my fears.”

  He squeezed her hand. “He was wearing his Argos medallion, right?”

  “He always wears it.”

  “Then we can track him. Titus is probably already on it. Don’t worry, emmoní.”

  Easier said than done. She wouldn’t be able to stop worrying. Not until Talisa, Max, Cerek, and the rest of the Argonauts were all home safe and sound.

  “It’ll be okay.” He pulled her into him and kissed her forehead. “I’m still ticked you crossed into the human realm without telling me, but if you hadn’t gone with Max, we’d never know he and Talisa were in trouble. And we wouldn’t have any chance of finding them now.”

  She met his gaze as he drew back. “Does that mean I’m not getting locked in a tower after all?”

  “Hell yes, you’re getting locked in that tower. As soon as everything’s back to normal, I’m locking you in there myself and tying you up. Naked. Until you’re begging me to let you go, and I’m absolutely convinced you’ve learned your lesson.”

  Pushing to her toes, she lifted her lips to his and smiled. “We both know that will never happen.”

  He kissed her gently. “Thank the Fates for that.”

  She lowered to her heels and released him. “Go.”

  His humor faded. “Stay in this realm. Please. So I don’t have a freakin’ heart attack.”

  She smiled and nodded, and as she watched him rush down the hall to go after her father and the other Argonauts, she leaned against the doorjamb and told herself they’d find Talisa. And Max. And bring them both home.

  They had to. Because she’d never be able to live with herself if they didn’t.

  Chapter Four

  Stinking daemons. They smelled like the rot of the Underworld. A place Zagreus hated almost as much as he hated his fucking father.

  He watched the flesh melt on the third daemon as flames engulfed its body. At one point it had been human, though you’d never know now by looking at it. A human soul trapped in the Fields of Asphodel who’d traded himself to the forces of evil for one more chance at life.

  Part of him pitied the daemons. Most made that bargain not knowing they’d return in the body of a monster. But a bigger part knew they got exactly what they deserved. Nothing good came from making deals with the devil. Zagreus knew that better than most.

  “Get up,” he said to the female at his back, taking one last look at the beast already turning to ash on the ground. “We’re leaving now.”

  No sound echoed behind him. No rustling or shuffling indicating she’d listened.

  He turned and looked back toward the tree where he’d left her, only to find the area empty.

  “Motherfucker.” He was not in the mood to play cat-and-mouse tonight.

  Tuning into his enhanced senses, he scanned the dark forest, squinted, and peered through the trees, searching for heat and movement.

  There. Roughly two hundred yards from his location. Zig-zagging around tree trunks and brush, her hands still bound in front of her.

  He flashed directly in her path.

  She opened her mouth the second she spotted him but no sound escaped, and she was too close to slam on her brakes. Her body smashed into his chest, ricocheted back, and crashed to the ground.

  She twisted over to her side. Shaking his head, Zagreus leaned over her, grasped her arms, and hauled her to her feet.

  “Thorn in my ass,” he muttered. “You were never this much trouble before.” When she winced as if she were in pain, he loosened his grip and reached for a twig stuck in her hair.

  She jerked back from his hand and opened her mouth to tear into him, but the spell was still keeping her silent. Realizing that for herself, her eyes flew wide, and fire flared in their violet depths.

  Her mouth snapped shut. She made a feeble attempt to yank back farther to free herself, but he held on tighter.

  With her gifts bound, she wasn’t strong enough to break his hold, and the moment she realized that, he saw something else creep into her violet eyes. Not just anger and rage, but a hint of fear as she glanced from the hand at her arm to the one hanging at his side.

  The one he’d used to torch those daemons.

  His jaw clenched at her reaction. He still didn’t release her, but contempt brewed inside him just the same.

  Did she honestly think he was going to roast her as he’d roasted those daemons?

  Yes, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Why wouldn’t she think that? All she knows about you is what she learned from the people of her realm. From the Argonauts. From Cynna...

  It wasn’t in his nature to offer olive branches, but in this case, he knew he was not going to get what he wanted if she continued to fight him. He waved his hand in front of her face and muttered the magickal words to break the silence spell.

  She gasped then glared up at him. “You bast—”

  “Careful with your choice of words, or I’ll silence you again.”

  Her lips snapped shut. Fire still flared hot and vicious in her eyes, though. A fire that not only challenged him but lit him up and made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  Every muscle in his body urged him to step forward, to strip her of those ripped garments and find her mark, to make sure she was who he thought. But there was still enough common sense in his brain to tell him here, in the middle of these woods, where anything could come upon them, was not the time and place for that.

  Especially for what he wanted to do to her when he found it.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he worked to relax his jaw and softened his grip so he wouldn’t hurt her. “I realize you have no reason to trust me, but if you cooperate, I promise nothing bad will happen to you.”

  “You promise?” She stared at him with icy eyes. “You? Excuse me if I don’t jump for joy. Where I come from, a promise from the Prince of Darkness is worth less than a pile of shit.”

  His lips thinned. Bloody hell, she had a mouth on her. That too was different from before. Made him wonder if he’d been wrong and she wasn’t who he thought.

  But it wouldn’t deter him. And part of him liked her sassiness. Not just because that mouth of hers was sexy as hell, but because he craved intellectual stimulation almost as much as he craved physical contact.

  He forced aside all the naughty fantasies forming in his mind about what he could get her to do with that mouth and let the insult—and the mention of his title—pass. “Right now my promise is worth your life. Unless you’d prefer to end up like those daemons back there?”

  She didn’t answ
er, only narrowed her enraged eyes even more.

  “I thought not.” Stepping past her, he tugged her through the trees, never once easing his grip. “Come on.”

  She stumbled in her heeled boots but quickened her pace to keep up. “What did your satyrs do with my friends?”

  “They weren’t my satyrs.”

  “Bullshit,” she muttered, tugging back on his hold, obviously testing him. “Everyone knows about your sadistic satyr army.”

  “Everyone used to know about my satyr army.” He pulled her around a tree and down a gentle slope. “Any satyrs who were loyal to me were destroyed twenty-eight years ago.”

  She was silent for a moment, then said, “They knew you.”

  He harrumphed but didn’t answer.

  “You knew them, too,” she snapped. “If they’re not loyal to you, then what are they going to do with my friends?”

  “Nothing good.”

  He drew her down a rocky hillside. Pebbles and debris kicked up under her boots as she shuffled her feet.

  “So you just left them there to be tortured by those assholes? You really are a bastard.”

  That did it. He jerked her to a stop and rounded on her.

  Her eyes widened just before she bumped into him then quickly stepped back.

  “For your information, I was planning on bringing your little friends with us. Since I couldn’t grab them without risking you running right into those satyrs’ hands, I had to make a choice. You should be thanking me for saving your life, not bitching that I chose you over them.” He turned and jerked her the rest of the way down the hill.

  She grunted as her feet hit the level ground. “I didn’t ask you to save me. And I can take care of myself. I’m not a wimpy female. Unbind my powers, and I’ll show you right here and now.”

  He chuckled as he crossed a small clearing, pushed brush and vines aside on the edge of a new forest, and pulled her into the darkness of the trees. “Nice try, female. You’re not going anywhere but where I tell you.”

  She tensed at the instant loss of light, obviously scared about where he was taking her.

  He tightened his grip and pulled her in front of him so her back was plastered to his chest and he could maneuver her up and down hills and around trees and brush in the darkness. As they moved, her heat seeped into his flesh, and her unique scents of cinnamon, vanilla, and orange blossom filled his head.

  Her muscles were tight, her breaths shallow, but when she saw the hint of light ahead, he felt her excitement as if it were his own.

  Just wait, female. This is only the beginning...

  They emerged from the thick forest and stepped into a dull white light. And as she sucked in a breath and stared wide-eyed at the stone archway, he lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, “You’re mine now, mono mia. And this time, I’m never letting you go.”

  Max wasn’t sure how long he’d been out.

  There had been motorbikes. Lots of them. Whining up an abandoned highway in the dark. Nothing but dots of red in the distance.

  He’d been shoved on the back of one bike, behind a rancid smelling satyr he hadn’t wanted to touch let alone look at. His hands had been bound at his front, his torso strapped to the seatback so he couldn’t fall off. The trip was a blur, mostly because whatever energy Zagreus had hit him with wasn’t just messing with his body but with his head. His thoughts and memories were a jumble. And every time he opened his eyes, he saw Talisa.

  He saw her standing with Zagreus in the middle of that dance floor with his massive hand wrapped around her arm. Saw the shock and fear in her eyes when she’d realized the god had bound her gifts so she couldn’t fight back. Saw the horror in her violet gaze when the black smoke started to swirl and she’d realized Zagreus was taking her with him.

  Max didn’t know where she was. Didn’t know if she was alive or dead. But he knew what Zagreus was capable of. Everyone did. The Prince of Darkness’s reputation for abducting and torturing females was legendary. And Max hadn’t done a damn thing to stop the sadistic god from making Talisa his next victim.

  At some point, the satyrs had stopped in the middle of a dark forest and pulled him off the back of the bike. They’d been hiking by the light of the moon for he didn’t know how long—though what he’d been doing couldn’t really be called hiking. Mostly he’d been stumbling and slowing them down, which was just pissing them all off.

  As if he cared. His head was too light to give a shit what they wanted.

  “I can’t wait to sink my teeth into that blonde we captured last week,” one of the satyrs said at Max’s back.

  “Already did that,” another one answered. “Not that impressive. The redhead who was with her, though... She’s another story.”

  “Talented?”

  “Double-jointed.”

  Laughter echoed through the forest. Then another satyr called out, “Ah, the maenads were Zeus’s greatest gift to us mere mortals. Horny little sluts.”

  Their laughter grew louder. Ahead, through a gap in the trees, Max spotted what looked like a crumbling stone fortress high on a cliff.

  A satyr slammed into Max’s back, shoving him forward. “Did we say it was break time, maggot? Keep walking.”

  Max hadn’t even realized he’d stopped. His muscles were weak. Every inch of his body felt fucking weak, but he wasn’t about to show it in front of these beasts.

  Gathering what was left of his strength, he pushed forward, heading through the trees where the satyr pointed toward what looked to be a cave entrance.

  The cave was dark. And cool. Cooler than the night air. Max shivered. Inside, one of the satyrs lit a torch, which cast orange light over the uneven rock walls.

  The satyr at his side grasped him by the arm and pulled. He stumbled but followed. As they wound their way through the cave, he realized they were slowly gaining in elevation.

  When they finally came to a stop outside a thick, steel door, Max was sweating and breathing hard. The tallest satyr in the group—one who was about Max’s height—rapped on the door, then stepped back as they waited.

  At Max’s side, the satyr who’d been dragging him said, “What are we doing with this one?”

  The leader of the ragtag group turned and gave Max the once over. “Until we figure out what he can do for us, throw him into the abyss.”

  Metal hinges creaked as the door pushed open. Inside, a couple of satyrs greeted the party, but Max was too busy wondering what the hell an abyss was to care.

  The group thinned out as satyrs disappeared in different directions. Stone walls rose around Max as he was pushed forward down a long corridor lit only by torches here and there. Laugher and voices echoed through the space, followed by feminine screams that had to come from whatever nymphs these beasts had trapped here.

  Max didn’t want to think too much about those females and what was about to be done to them. He was pushed through two more archways, then pulled to a stop outside a heavy wood door.

  The satyr on his right punched a button near the door. A whining sound, like gears turning, echoed from beyond the dark door. Grabbing a key from a hook on the wall above the button, the satyr slid it into the rusted lock and turned.

  Metal clanked as the old door was pulled forward. Inside, Max saw nothing but darkness.

  A light flared at Max’s side. He turned his head as the satyr lit a torch and held it up, illuminating a stone, curved room. Cool air whooshed past Max’s face.

  Max’s heart picked up speed. He was groggy as hell, wanted only to sit so he could rest. But something in his gut told him there was nothing good in that room.

  The satyr stepped behind Max then lifted a hoof from the floor and shoved it into the middle of Max’s back, sending him stumbling forward.

  Max grunted and fought to keep from falling to his knees in the room. Then sucked in a sharp breath and shuffled back when light illuminated the space.

  His boots came to a skidding stop on the edge of some kind of platform overlooking
a drop-off. A staircase led down into the dark, following the curve of the stone walls.

  A click sounded at Max’s back. He turned just as the satyr set the torch in a hook on the wall.

  “You’ve got three minutes before the torch dies out and the steps disappear,” the satyr said. “Unless you want to fall to your death, maggot, you better beat feet to the bottom fast.”

  The satyr stepped back, and the door slammed shut with an ominous clank.

  Pulse thundering, Max looked down and realized the stones weren’t permanent. A grinding sound echoed, and slowly, the steps began to retract inside the walls.

  Grasping the torch so he wouldn’t be left blind, Max hustled down the steps as quickly as he could, staying close to the wall so he didn’t accidentally slip and tumble into the darkness, praying he didn’t pass out from the fog still swirling in his head.

  The last step slid inside the wall just as he reached the bottom. Breathing hard, he turned and looked up where he’d just been.

  He couldn’t see the door or platform at all. The only things he could see were circular walls and stones that went on forever and finally faded into utter darkness.

  A shiver rushed down his spine. He swayed and braced a hand against the wall to keep from passing out.

  He was weak. Growing weaker. Whatever Zagreus had hit him with had zapped him not just of his powers but his strength and energy, as well.

  He leaned his back against the stones and slowly slid down until he dropped to his butt with his legs sticking out in front of him. Holding the torch awkwardly in one hand, he brought his pinkies together and tried to open a portal but nothing happened. And when he reached up for his Argos medallion, the beacon that was like a transmitter back to the Argonauts in Argolea so they could always find each other, he realized it was gone from around his neck.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d lost it. His head was so light, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. His only hope was Elysia.