Marked

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “In her bedroom.” Fear rushed over Helene’s delicate features. “Her mother put her to bed last night, and when she got up this morning, Marissa was gone.”

  Casey thought of the young girl she’d met yesterday, then of the young girl’s words: Minnie knew he’d bring you here to save us.

  She squeezed Helene’s hand. “I’ll get my coat.”

  She swept back into the room, slid her feet into her shoes and grabbed her jacket, not caring that she hadn’t brushed her teeth or combed her hair or even had her morning cup of coffee. But when she turned she was very aware of the mammoth body blocking her exit.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Acacia. This is none of your concern.”

  None of her concern? Oh, screw that. She set her jaw. “Those are my people. That girl is one of my race. So don’t you dare tell me this is none of my business.” Her eyes narrowed, and the air crackled between them, but she didn’t back down. For the first time in her life, she had something to fight for.

  “You can’t keep me here, Theron. One way or the other, I’m going to help find Marissa. So either move your ass out of my way, or make yourself useful and do something to help me.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  She was seriously losing it.

  Isadora paced to the windows, turned and wrung her hands together as she passed the settee. Four more steps and she was near the closet door, moving by the high-backed dresser and looping around the canopy bed again. This room had always been a place of comfort and solitude for her, but not now. Not when she was ready to claw her way through stone and mortar just to get free.

  She jumped at the soft knock on her door. “Yes?”

  “It’s just I, my lady.” Saphira poked her head around the door. “May I come in?”

  Isadora breathed a sigh of relief. She’d half expected it to be Demetrius, or one of the other Argonauts. For a group of ándres who couldn’t stomach the castle, they’d sure been hanging around a lot lately. Which couldn’t be good on any level. “Yes, yes, come in.”

  As the door opened she caught a glimpse of her latest sentry, Cerek, his short dark hair and broad shoulders easily discernible in the sitting room to her chambers.

  Resentment burned hot in her, but she tamped it down as Saphira closed the door with a soft click. The younger woman held a tray of food—soup, crackers, a bowl of fresh fruit. The scent of stewed chicken and vegetables made Isadora’s stomach roll. She placed a hand on her abdomen, waving away the tray and its contents with the other. “I’m not hungry.”

  Saphira set the tray on a low table near the fireplace. “You must eat, my lady.”

  Eating was the last thing on Isadora’s mind. And she knew it would just come right back up if she tried. “Has Theron been back to the castle?”

  Saphira glanced toward the door as if she was afraid to speak too loud. She moved closer and in a low voice said, “No, my lady. Not yet.”

  Damn. Though being shackled to Theron wasn’t Isadora’s first choice, at least she knew he wouldn’t shut her in a room and forget about her, which was what her father and the rest of those mercenaries were doing to her now. “What about the king?”

  “The same. Callia’s been to see him several times, but there’s no improvement.”

  Isadora placed her finger to her lips and walked to the windows. The gown she wore weighed heavy on her shoulders, and not for the first time, she vowed to change the monarchy’s archaic traditions—clothing being the first—as soon as she became queen.

  “Do you know where Theron is?” she asked.

  Saphira’s voice held an edge of pity that gnawed on Isadora’s last nerve. “Word is he’s on an important assignment for your father. No one seems to know where he’s gone, though. And with one of the Argonauts outside your room every minute, few in the castle are speaking, let alone gossiping about what they know.”

  Isadora closed her eyes. A personal favor for her father. That could only mean one thing. She had a pretty good idea where Theron had gone. And whom he was with. The question was, would he be able to convince her to come to Argolea with him? And if he did, would it be too late?

  Isadora lifted bony hands and looked down at her pale skin. Even she knew she was wasting away. The way her energy was lagging lately, she guessed she had a week, maybe two, tops, before she lost the battle completely.

  The prophecy flashed in her mind as she stood there. The one she’d stumbled across in her father’s books when she’d gone to sit by his side in his illness.

  There shall be two in every era,

  Born of god and earth and men.

  One of strength and one of courage,

  Two separate halves to bring the end.

  And they shall be known by the markings they bear,

  United in the twenty-seventh year.

  Only joined will the strong survive,

  To dissolve the pact and bring the end to life.

  A shiver ran through Isadora at what her father was doing. But how could he know for sure what would happen? And how could he sacrifice one daughter for another?

  Not for the first time, she thought about the half-breed sister she’d not known about until only days before. Would they have anything in common? If they met on the street, would they recognize each other? Would there be a connection?

  She didn’t know. But one thing was clear. The ease with which her father and the Argonauts had locked her in this room made it clear they regarded her as nothing more than a pawn. Nothing but a pet to keep fed and quiet and well-groomed.

  The tightness in her chest she’d been fighting the last few days came back with a vengeance. And as she eyed the courtyard below, she knew what she had to do. “Saphira, I need your help.”

  “Anything, my lady.”

  Isadora crossed the floor and reached for a piece of paper from the top drawer of her desk. Scribbling quickly, she said, “Find Orpheus and give him this letter.”

  “Orpheus?” Saphira asked, bewildered. “But why? He’s Lucian’s nephew.”

  As Lucian was the top ranking member of the Council, and very much not her friend, the question was warranted. But what Saphira didn’t understand was that Isadora knew Orpheus’s darkest secrets. And he would do just about anything to make sure they never came to light.

  “Because he owes me.” She reread the note quickly and, satisfied it would set the wheels in motion, signed her name, slipped the paper into an envelope and affixed her royal seal. She handed the paper to Saphira. “Deliver it right away. But take care. It goes only to Orpheus. No one else.”

  Saphira nodded and slipped the envelope inside her jacket. “It will be done.”

  Alone, Isadora looked out over the courtyard once more and drew a deep breath. Then thought of her sister.

  Two weeks. Max. She had two weeks to put her plan in motion before they both died.

  She only prayed she was doing the right thing.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The woman was as prickly as the tree she was named for.

  Theron scowled as he followed behind Acacia on the narrow path. He hadn’t been able to talk her out of her crazy plan to search for the youngling. Though Theron was loath to have her anywhere out in the open, he knew when he was up against a rock wall of stubbornness, and he was quickly discovering Acacia could dig her heels in with the best of them.

  Since there was no way he could trust her safety to anyone but himself, he’d had to come along. They’d separated from the others more than an hour ago, and he scanned the forest on both sides as they moved. Odds were good the child was already dead, though why that bothered him so much was as foreign as why he couldn’t stop thinking about getting between Acacia’s thighs right this very minute.

  Focus, dammit.

  There were a thousand things he should be concentrating on, namely how in Hades it was possible a half-breed had the gift of hindsight. But the only thing he could think about right now was how soft her skin had been last night, how lush her body, how p
erfectly she’d fit against him.

  “You’re doing it again,” she said from ahead.

  He lifted his head. “Doing what?”

  “That muttering thing in another language. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that’s rude?”

  He glanced at the soft sway of her hips as she moved and the way she filled out the backside of her jeans. “Would you prefer I spoke my thoughts in English?”

  The husky timbre of his voice must have registered, because she stopped abruptly and turned on him. Her cheeks were pink from the cool morning air, but there was a heat in her that had nothing to do with the temperature. Her gaze raked his face, slid down to his chest and hovered there until his blood warmed with arousal.

  “Look your fill, meli,” he whispered.

  Her eyes snapped to his just before she swiveled on her heels and resumed walking. “I don’t like you.”

  One side of his mouth curved in amusement as he followed. She was a terrible liar, something he’d discovered early on. The knowledge thrilled him. “Yes, you do. You like me a lot.”

  “I may have. Once.” She lifted a branch so she could move under it, then released it with perfect timing so it smacked him in the face.

  He chuckled even as he rubbed at the sting on his cheek. He liked that she stood up to him. There wasn’t a gynaíka in Argolea who would dare try to tell him what to do. If he had to be stuck out here, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather be stuck with. The woman had to be exhausted, they’d been walking for nearly an hour, but she was determined, and she wasn’t letting it affect her mood. Every time he suggested they look in a different direction and that it was inconceivable for a child to walk this far, she’d flicked him a look and kept going.

  “That is,” she added, cutting through his thoughts, “I may have liked you before you set out to seduce me and then walked out without a word.”

  Ouch. “Acacia.” He stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. This wasn’t the time or place to get into it, but he had an overwhelming urge to explain what had happened that night and why he’d left.

  Though why he thought he could make her understand when he was still having trouble rationalizing the whole thing was beyond him.

  “What happened between us had nothing to do with why I’m here now. I didn’t know who you were then. I only learned of your identity when I went to the store to find you.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “It’s the truth. Look in my eyes. You’ll see that I’m not lying.”

  She did. And their eyes met. Then a blush crept up her cheeks, one that told him she was remembering exactly what had happened between them.

  That warmth went white-hot. Urgent and needy. So demanding it blocked out the rational side of his brain, which warned this was a bad idea.

  Before he thought better of it, he reached for her other arm. “Do you believe in fate?”

  “You mean like destiny?” He nodded, and she shook her head. “No. Everyone makes their own decisions.”

  “But do you believe fate gives us choices, and where we go is up to us?”

  Her violet eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking me this?”

  What exactly could he tell her? How much did he want her to know? That her life span could probably be counted in days, not years? That she was pegged to bring about the beginning of a war that would hopefully free his people? That he was starting to suspect she was his soul mate, and aside from the sexual benefits that conjured in his mind, the idea pretty much creeped him out?

  None of that sounded like anything she would believe, or understand, so he opted for what was most pressing. And figured a little bit of honesty couldn’t hurt at this point. “I think fate’s playing a trick on us. I’ve had these…strange feelings…that you and I were brought together for a reason that has nothing to do with your father.”

  She leveled him with a look that was so damn sexy, he itched to kiss it from her face. “Hearing voices, are you?”

  Yes. “Not exactly. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Schizophrenia’s not that uncommon. Try medication.”

  Smartass. “I don’t think—”

  “Me either.” The humor in her eyes faded. “My so-called father brought us together because he wants something from me. That’s not fate, Theron. That’s manipulation.”

  “And what do you call this…this attraction between us?”

  She cocked her head. “Your problem?”

  “I call it opportunity. A chance to see if fate is really pushing us toward a combined destiny. And there’s one way to know for sure.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How?”

  He moved closer, barely brushing his body against hers, and felt her shudder. And oh, yeah, as far as gambles went, this was the big one. “All it takes is one night.”

  She blinked twice. “Are you for real?”

  “In my world, an ándras can tell if a gynaíka is his soul mate by sharing a bed.”

  “Soul mate. I see. And I’m assuming the whole ‘sharing a bed’ thing would be done in the biblical sense?”

  “Is there any other sense?”

  She stared at him so long, his blood heated at the knowledge she was considering the offer. He imagined taking her back to the colony, peeling her clothing off one piece at a time, unwrapping the gift of her gorgeous body, then pressing her back on that soft bed and joining them in a way that would tell him for sure if she was his or merely an infatuation he’d soon get over.

  The vision was so real, his pants grew tight and his heart rate kicked up in time to the beat of a snare drum. He waited for her to step to him, to ease up on her toes. To bring their mouths together and their bodies into much-needed contact.

  But then she laughed. A rolling, rich sound that came from her belly and jerked him right out of the fantasy and dropped him firmly back in reality.

  Her laughter went on and on, to the point a frown worked its way between his eyebrows. When she finally paused to breathe, tears were streaming down her face. She reached up to wipe her cheek. “Oh, my God. That was the best line I’ve ever heard. ‘Here, sleep with me and I’ll tell you if you’re my destiny.’ Nice one, Theron.” Still chuckling to herself, she eased out of his grip and resumed walking.

  “I didn’t think it was so funny,” Theron mumbled at her back.

  “You can’t be serious,” she said, waving her hands out to the sides as she walked. “That’s like the lamest thing I’ve ever heard. And I worked in a strip club, for crying out loud. I’ve heard some pretty sad come-ons!”

  “Why were you there?” he asked, her comment bringing up a question he’d wondered about several times.

  “Why does anyone work in a strip club? The money’s good.”

  “I thought your family owned that bookstore?”

  A sigh of regret slipped from her mouth, and he knew she was remembering the fire and what she’d lost. “My grandmother’s hospital bills were pretty nasty. I had to work two jobs to make ends meet.”

  “About that club. Did you…? Were you…?”

  “Was I what, Theron?”

  The humor in her voice only aggravated him more. He stopped on the path, unsure how to voice his question. “How much money did you make?”

  She stopped as well, turned his way and tapped her finger against her cheek in a thoughtful move. “Well, that depends. You know, in a place like XScream, a woman’s pay is based on job performance, and I was good. Very, very good at what I did.” A wicked smile slid across her tempting lips. “Just ask Nick.”

  A spear of jealousy stabbed him in the gut.

  But Argonauts didn’t get jealous. Only humans did.

  And then she smiled. A grin laced with pure victory and female delight. She was playing him. And enjoying it.

  “You weren’t a dancer.” His eyes ran over her svelte body, and the relief that rushed through him was swift and consuming. “I can’t see you taking your clothes off for strange men for any amount of money.”

&nbs
p; She only rolled her eyes and resumed walking. “I did it for you, didn’t I? And for free, no less. And you’re the biggest stranger of them all.”

  “Acacia.” He gripped her arm again, stopping her. As he turned her his way, a voice in his head screamed, Keep your mouth shut, but he couldn’t. “Three thousand years ago, when Zeus set aside Argolea for our race, Hera played her cruelest practical joke.”

  “Zeus’s wife? Why would she care about you and your race?”

  “She hated Heracles. For a variety of reasons, but mostly because he was one more of Zeus’s blatant infidelities. And because of Zeus’s affection for the heroes as a whole, she likewise hated the Argonauts. What better way to get back at all of us than by convincing the Fates to make sure we are never happy?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Argonauts, every one of them, me included, were given one soul mate. Just one. And it’s always the last person they would ever choose. Most Argonauts go their entire lives without finding theirs. Since I met you, all the signs point to you being mine.”

  “What signs?”

  Don’t tell her.

  He glanced around the forest again, remembering that being out in the open like this wasn’t safe, but unable to let this subject drop. “The attraction between us, for one. The sexual heat.” Her cheeks blushed again, encouraging him. “The fact that even when I thought you were human, I recognized something unique and alluring in you I’d not recognized in another.”

  “You’re not wild about my being human, are you?”

  He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

  She looked at his chest, then up to his eyes, and if he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment, she masked it well. “Just how many women do you have to sleep with to find this soul mate?”

  He recognized her sarcasm, and knew he was dancing perilously close to the edge with her. “It’s not like that.”

  “Oh, it’s not?” she asked innocently. “Then that means you don’t want to have sex with me?”

  He eased closer and dropped his voice. “I want very much to be with you, you know that. You can see it in my eyes.”

  “To see if I’m your soul mate,” she said plainly.