Lexi settled against him again. “Curiosity sated.”
Waking up next to Lexi was nice. The need to get out of this place still tugged at Icarus’ thoughts, but without a solution, it was easy to shove the urgency aside.
A day became a week of nights filled with operas and plays, and mornings occupied by lazy breakfasts and discovering the best places in the house to have sex.
Time didn’t move in complete days in here, so it was difficult to keep track of how much had passed.
They sat on a blanket on the back lawn, watching the stars. This was comfortable and right.
“Were we supposed to be somewhere?” Icarus asked.
“I’m not in the mood to go out tonight. This is pleasant.”
That wasn’t what he meant. There was a thought out of reach. A different time and place. He couldn’t grasp it and didn’t want to try too hard. “I didn’t mean... Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I like it when it’s just you and me. The way it’s always been,” Lexi said. “Or... is that right?”
He kissed her nose. “It sounds good.” He was forgetting something, but whatever it was, it wasn’t important. Being here with her was. Why would they need to be anyplace else?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Lexi knelt next to Actaeon, terror and sorrow choking her. This wasn’t like when she thought she’d lost Cerberus. It hurt just as much, but in different places. Her body ached. Her tears were all dried up. She couldn’t do this without him. She was death. Hades had brought people back. Could she? His soul hadn’t left his body. But they were already in the underworld.
She’d built a village out of nothing. She’d pulled lost souls from the void and gave them a home.
She manifested her dreams into reality.
Why couldn’t she wake up Actaeon?
His body lay on the ground, clothing torn, wounds closing, but not fast enough. She rested a palm on his chest. His heartbeat was so weak.
“Please don’t leave me.” She pressed her lips to his forehead. “I know you wanted to die for a cause.” Where did that come from? It felt true, but how had she picked up on it? “No cause, no person or immortal, is worth that. I’m not worth surrendering your life for, and neither is anyone else.”
She’d been a brat since he arrived. Insisting they do things her way despite his experience. Getting underfoot in the fight. Trying to help when she had no idea what she was doing. “Please, wake up. I don’t want to be alone.”
That was a shitty reason to want him around.
The thought jarred her, adding an acrid edge to her mounting panic. Would she pull someone back from the brink of death for a selfish reason like that?
Was that why she bonded with Cerberus? No. She loved Cerberus. That was real.
What was this?
Actaeon groaned and coughed.
Relief spilled inside Lexi, pushing out the questions, and sending fresh tears down her cheeks.
He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at her. “Hey. What’s wrong?” Concern mingled with the exhaustion in her voice. “Are you hurt?”
She laughed through the sobs. “I’m so much better now.” She helped him sit, then threw her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Actaeon hugged her.
There was no hesitation in his embrace, there never had been. That was good, right?
Stupid fucking doubt. She squashed it. “For being a brat. For not letting you do what you excel at. For nearly getting you killed.”
“Don’t be, and you didn’t.” He nudged her back enough to kiss her cheeks. His movements were slow and deliberate, and she felt each one echo in her bones.
“I’m sorry. You’re in pain. I need to be more careful.” She dropped her arms.
He grabbed them again, pulled her back, and hugged her tight. “You’re fine. I’m bulletproof.”
“But apparently not Daughters-of-Danaus-proof.”
He crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her fear and nipping at her lips. The energy that flowed between them was soothing, almost salve-like. It erased her aches.
“I can’t lose you,” he murmured against her kisses. “I’d do this all again in a heartbeat. I’d sacrifice everything for you.”
That wasn’t right. It was a sweet sentiment, but it crawled under her skin and chewed on her soul. She pulled away and stood, barely registering that his wounds were gone. “Don’t.” An edge slipped into her voice.
“What did I do?” Actaeon climbed to his feet with minimal effort.
She knew he could heal quickly, but how...? It didn’t matter, because irritation had replaced concern. “I don’t want you to give your life for me. Ever. I don’t want you on a cross of your making, so I can live.”
He rolled his eyes. “Glad to see you’ve caught it too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He nodded at something behind her. “That’s what they were guarding. What’s inside?”
She’d been so worried about his stupid, self-sacrificing ass, she hadn’t looked. She turned on her toe and stalked toward the cave.
As she stepped further in, darkness closed in around her. Their auras made things worse. The bright glows that circled them kept her pupils from widening but didn’t cast an ambient light on their surroundings.
“Can’t you magic up a torch or something?” Actaeon’s tone was flat.
Why was she pissed off? Because she didn’t want him dying for her? Stupid, arrogant fucking caveman. She held out her hand, and a flashlight appeared. She shone the beam forward, and it bounced off a tangle of vines, inches from her face.
“Oh.” She jumped back, her heart hammering in her ears.
“Are you okay?”
And he was worried because she was in trouble. How cliché. “I’m fine.” She bit off the words and progressed forward.
She had to sweep the beam around, to ensure she saw both ceiling and floor, as they walked. This was ridiculous. They needed real lighting.
In her mind, she pictured bulbs lining the walls, from here to the end of wherever this place led.
A few sparks flickered into view in front of them, and then vanished.
“What the fuck?” She didn’t like these rules. Like with the fight, it seemed she couldn’t make anything tangible that was outside of her grasp.
“I think the best we can get is making the flashlight brighter,” Actaeon said.
Yeah, thanks. She’d figured that much out. How did she know which direction to head, anyway? Because she was being pulled.
She grew the beam of the light in her hand, making it cover everything in front of them—floor and ceiling—and they continued.
The light fell on a body, and she swore her heart stopped. The three dog heads overlapped by a human one were unique. “Cerberus.” She sprinted forward. It was tempting to drop the flashlight, but she needed to see him.
She fell to her knees next to his body and pressed two fingers to his human neck. His pulse was strong, and his chest rose and fell easily. There were no visible wounds on his body.
“Cerberus, come back to me.” She didn’t feel the panic she had with Actaeon. The tug in her heart insisted her hellhound was fine. He just wasn’t here.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. “Wake up. I need you by my side.”
There was no response to her mental words. No emotion or murmuring or stirring.
Then— “Lexi? My Lexi?” Cerberus’ voice was loud and clear in her thoughts.
“Yes. Is it you? Of course it’s you.” She knew his heart anywhere. It was part of hers.
His eyes opened, and he met her gaze. “Hey, gorgeous.” He smiled.
She felt more right than she had since she arrived in this fucking place. “Hey, yourself.”
A freight train of thought slammed into her skull, assaulting her with words and images and thoughts she couldn’t process. Her
brain screamed in protest, and the pain ripped from her throat in a shout of her own.
CERBERUS DIDN’T FEEL right in this strange place Aphrodite had set Lexi up in. It was comfortable and secure and a bribe of a whole new sort, since Lexi didn’t remember how she’d gotten here. As far as she was concerned, she had the right barter at the right time.
She watched TV, and Cerberus tried not to pace. He needed to get out of here.
“Wake up. I need you by my side.”
That was her voice, but it was in his head. There was no question. “Lexi?” He risked broadcasting the question. “My Lexi?”
“Yes. Is it you? Of course it’s you.” Her voice sounded glorious. It should be identical to the one he’d been hearing for days, but it wasn’t. This one knew him. Loved him.
A caress that wasn’t there brushed his face, and longing burst through him. He winced at the onslaught of sensation. Scents that didn’t meld with this world. Dirt. Death. Actual Lexi.
He squeezed his eyes shut tight, until stars danced behind the lids. Cool, heavy air pressed in on him, clogging his nostrils. His back was pressed against something hard. Was he lying down?
Cerberus dared look, and found Lexi kneeling next to him, darkness behind her. She grinned, brighter than the sun when she met his gaze.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said. She was, too. The most incredible sight he’d ever seen. The smudges on her cheeks. The mark on her neck that said Truth.
“Hey, yourself.”
She leaned in, and he expected a kiss. Instead, she wobbled and grimaced. Then she threw her head back and let out the most horrifying scream he’d ever heard. She grabbed her head, and the room went black.
“Lexi?” His concern overlapped with another voice. Actaeon. At least she hadn’t been alone. Cerberus sat up and reached for her. “Lexi?”
Images assaulted him when he sent the thought. Betrayal, longing, fury—it all rode on snippets of the events he’d watched her live. Those moments he’d traipsed through in her mind.
It wasn’t sequential, the way he’d seen, though. The jumbled Picasso of the past sliced at her in shards, cutting his mind in the process.
And then it stopped, and so did her screaming.
“Shit. That’s not good,” Actaeon said.
“What happened to the light?” Cerberus scooped Lexi into his arms. Her body was light and warm against his.
“She was making it. I assume it vanished when she passed out.”
Great. “Do you know the way out of here?”
“Yes,” Actaeon said. A moment later, he grasped Cerberus’ shoulder. “I have more sure footing. I can carry her.”
Cerberus growled. “No. Where are we?”
“Tartarus. The daughters of Danaus were planning to kill you. She sent them away. I don’t know how long until they find their way back.”
Cerberus gave a grim smile in the darkness. “Don’t let go.” Magic flowed differently down here than it did on earth, and he’d been created for this. He pictured an intricate gate, scribed in iron and gold and waiting for them.
They wouldn’t be able to see it in here, but he knew where it was. “Walk behind me. Don’t let go,” he said to Actaeon.
“All right?”
Cerberus reached out and shoved the gate open. He stepped through.
Tartarus vanished, leaving the underworld in its place.
“Neat trick,” Actaeon said.
“They call me Gatekeeper for a reason.” And his being able to open the gate meant he once again served the ruler of this plane. His goddess. He wasn’t surprised. Cerberus set Lexi on the grass. “We can’t keep missing each other like this.” He tried to keep his teasing light in the mental words, but concern flowed through him.
Actaeon knelt on the other side of her.
Were they wearing matching outfits? And why was Actaeon’s more rips and blood than fabric?
Hardly important right now.
“I’m here.” Lexi’s reply echoed in Cerberus’ head. “Holy fuck. What’s going on in my thoughts?”
“Wake up, and I’ll tell you what I know.”
She groaned and pushed into a sitting position. “Three for three?”
Actaeon’s chuckle was strained.
“What?” Apparently Cerberus needed to be brought up to speed.
“Third one of us to climb out of unconsciousness in the last couple of hours.” Lexi massaged her temples. “Don’t suppose you can pull Icarus through one of those gates? I could go for four.”
“He’s not with you?” Cerberus should have noticed sooner.
Actaeon shot him a glare. “Does it look like he is?”
They had a lot of catching up to do. “What’s going on?”
“I can only tell you what we know, and it’s not the entire picture. But there are so many thoughts in my head that weren’t there before. My past, with you in it?” Lexi pulled his arms around her.
It felt good to hold her again. He was reluctant to ever let her go. He had a better idea of who Lexi was and where she came from. “We need to talk about what Aphrodite’s done to you,” Cerberus said. “That’s probably the best place to start, because it explains what you’re seeing.”
He’d never had access to the images in her mind before—only feelings and words. Was this a good thing? The bond between them was stronger than it had been with Hades. Or was this because she trusted him more as time went on?
He didn’t dare linger on the fear that it meant something in her mind was breaking.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Actaeon was grateful to have Cerberus back. The thought caught him off-guard. It wasn’t only because Lexi had relaxed after the initial shock of whatever happened, but also because Actaeon had missed the hellhound.
The middle of an empty field wasn’t the best place to catch up, though. “Can you give us another of those gates?” Actaeon asked. “We can step through it into this little place Lexi set up down the road.”
“The gates only allow us to move between underworld planes, not individual places. So if it’s in the underworld, no.” Cerberus shook his head.
Lexi looked pale. “I can take us back, now that I know where we’re going.” A tremor ran through her voice. She looked as shaky as Actaeon felt.
He was trying to shrug off the exhaustion, but like when he’d woken up, it wasn’t leaving him.
She grasped Cerberus’ hand, and then his. Some of his weariness faded. He wasn’t instantly healed, but the fog lifted from his joints and his mind.
The tension faded from Lexi as well, and she sat up a little straighter. Then they were on her bed, in her room back at the saloon.
Cerberus didn’t look surprised. “You made this?”
“Yes. Did you know Persephone was a goddess before she hooked up with Hades?” Lexi didn’t let go of Actaeon’s hand.
“I would have told you if I did.” Cerberus stood and wandered around the room. He examined everything without touching any of it. “You used to have a room like this.”
“Not exactly like it. But the one you saw, in my memories? I wanted it to look this way.”
Actaeon was missing a few pieces in their conversation, but he could make assumptions to fill in the blanks. He expected a tug of envy—the same persistent feeling he got whenever Cerberus and Lexi went off on a tangent meant only for them—but it wasn’t there.
It might partly be because Lexi still clung to Actaeon. He didn’t feel smugness about that, though. It was more gratitude and... rightness.
Cerberus returned to sit next to them. “How are you feeling?”
“My head doesn’t hurt, but my brain is killing me.” Lexi pressed her free palm to her forehead. “Like a billion memories were crammed into it at the same time.” She laid her head on Cerberus’ leg and moved Actaeon’s hand to her thigh. “I shouldn’t be surprised Aphrodite locked so much away from me.”
“She did it for love.” Cerberus made it sound rational. “That’s kind of her thing.”
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Lexi’s laugh was bitter. “Not a great reason. Does this mean, if I’m the new goddess of death, I’ll go out of my way to ensure people die if fate wills it?”
Actaeon knew the answer to that one, without question. “That’s not you. It will hurt you to see them suffer, but you understand everyone has to be allowed their individual lives.”
She rolled her head, to look at him. “That’s some pretty wise insight.”
“I’m more than a muscle-bound bruiser.” This was the missing element before. The easy flow of a conversation everyone was a part of. “What kind of things did Aphrodite hide from you?” He swallowed a joke about more fated loves. It felt like poor taste.
“The ritual that killed her stepdad,” Cerberus said.
A shadow passed over Lexi’s face. “It was meant to destroy his soul. Intentionally done to keep me from finding him in the underworld, later in life.”
That implied— “Poseidon knew who you were?”
“He knew I existed. I don’t know why Aphrodite hid that from me. But his goal with me was the same as Artemis’ with you.”
The words sliced through Actaeon like a blade of ice. He didn’t have the best relationship with his mother, but she hadn’t sacrificed anyone he knew. “I don’t see a correlation.”
“Deli in New Orleans, after you returned from your search for Cassandra...” If Cerberus thought letting that hang would provide answers, he was mistaken.
That wasn’t completely true. Actaeon understood now where Lexi’s earlier question came from. “I don’t remember much about that bit of my life. I was a wreck after the Cassandra thing.”
Lexi jumped from the bed, jarring the mattress and catching Actaeon off-guard. “Is anyone else hungry? I’m hungry. I’m going to have Bob make us something.”
“Who’s Bob?” Cerberus asked.
“Bartender. Nice guy. Doesn’t he go home at night?” Actaeon was curious about where the sudden change in demeanor came from.
Apathy's Hero: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy (Truth's Harem Book 3) Page 12