TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7)

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TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7) Page 25

by Elisabeth Naughton


  Ask about Isadora and what they’d discussed? Um. Hell, no. “I’m surprised you didn’t just look into my mind to find out.”

  One corner of his lips tipped up. “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t read your mind. I can only see your memories…if you project them.” His eyes narrowed even more. “Which you’re not doing at the moment.”

  Thank the Fates. She rested her hands against his sexy, muscular shoulders. “You’ll have to teach me how to keep from doing that on a regular basis.”

  “Something tells me you’ll be a quick learner.”

  Her lips curled as she focused on a tiny scar near his collarbone.

  But instead of kissing her again like she wanted, he stared at her. And in the silence, her cheeks grew even warmer.

  “What?” she finally asked.

  “Nothing.” His eyes softened. “Just… Thank you. Again.”

  “For what?”

  “For coming back.”

  Her chest squeezed so tight it pulled the air right out of her lungs. And in that moment, as she stared up at him, she knew she was in love with him. Crazy, head-over-heels in love with a man who would never truly be hers.

  Don’t think about that now. Don’t—shit… Just focus on the moment.

  She swallowed hard. Dammit. She was going to get her heart broken here. There was no way around it anymore. “Don’t make me regret it.”

  He reached for the hem of her shirt and pushed it up to her breasts, his rough fingers grazing the skin near her belly button, sending shivers of excitement straight into her sex. “Trust me, female. You won’t. I promise.”

  She closed her eyes and fought back the sting of tears as he pressed his wicked, talented lips against her belly. And though she prayed with every ounce of her soul that he was right, her gift screamed he was telling the biggest lie of all.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Nick felt better than he had in days. No, weeks. No…months.

  He was rested. Focused. Invigorated. And he knew it was all because of Cynna and the fact she’d come back to him last night when she could have so easily run and left him for good.

  He’d wanted to ask what had changed her mind, but didn’t. Yeah, it was crazy. Yeah, it made no sense. But he trusted her. And he was so freakin’ thankful that she’d returned to him, he didn’t want to do anything to scare her off.

  The halls were quiet as he made his way to the ground floor and headed for the main kitchen at the back of the castle. He’d left Cynna sleeping. After he’d thanked her with his hands and mouth and body, she’d curled into him and fallen asleep. He’d held her like that most of the night, loving the way she twined her leg between his, loving the weight of her hand against his chest, loving her heat seeping in to warm the cold places left inside him. It wasn’t like him to want to snuggle, but with her he found he couldn’t get enough. Because she didn’t want anything from him. She wasn’t waiting for him to break like Zagreus. She wasn’t pulling at him like Isadora and the soul mate connection. She wasn’t waiting for him to fix things and make the world better like his people.

  Thoughts of his people—the Misos—slid into his mind as he walked, dampening his good mood. Before he could get lost in the guilt of a duty he didn’t want to resume, voices drifted from beyond the door, slowing his feet.

  “No,” a male voice said. “Not even. Don’t do it.”

  Nick recognized Phineus, the dark-haired Argonaut who had spent a good deal of time at the colony before it had been demolished. He listened closer, needing to know who else was in there before he entered. There were several people in this castle he wasn’t in the mood to deal with at the moment, Isadora being at the top of his list.

  “Man up, would you?” Cerek, another Argonaut, answered. “A blueberry is not going to kill you, pretty boy.”

  “Great. You did it. I can’t eat that shit now. Not unless you want me to throw up all over this kitchen.”

  “You’re so dramatic. Make your own damn food if you can’t handle something healthy.”

  “I’m allergic, moron. It has nothing to do with healthy.”

  “That’s because your forefather, Bellerophon, was a pussy and passed down inferior genes.”

  “You little shit. I should toast you for that.”

  Cerek chuckled.

  Nick pushed the door open and peered inside the room. Cerek stood behind a counter, pouring batter onto a griddle, while Phineus glared at him from the other side, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his model-handsome face. Other than the two bickering Argonauts, the room was empty.

  “Hey,” Cerek said, glancing Nick’s way. “Morning. I’m making blueberry pancakes. You want? Mr. Sensitive-stomach over here isn’t going to eat them.”

  “You’re damn right I’m not.” Phineus stalked toward the giant steel refrigerator across the room and yanked it open. “Stupid freakin’ blueberries. Fucker knows I don’t like to cook.”

  Cerek chuckled again.

  Nick’s stomach rumbled as the scent of the sizzling batter rose up in the air. “Yeah, I could eat.” He stepped farther into the room, letting the door swing closed at his back. “But why are you on kitchen detail? Where’s the cook?”

  Cerek flipped the pancakes with a spatula. “At the settlement. The queen sent most of the castle staff over there. You might not have noticed yesterday, but this place is operating at a bare minimum. Even security’s been severely downgraded.”

  Nick thought back to the few guards manning the entrances, and a tingle of apprehension slid through him at the thought of Isadora not being protected in the way she should be. “Why?”

  “Because she’s worried the Council’s going to move on your people,” a voice answered at Nick’s back.

  Nick turned to find Orpheus standing behind him.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” Orpheus ran a hand through his light-brown hair, the Argonaut markings on his forearms glinting in the fluorescent lights from above as he moved, a scowl on his usually sarcastic face. “How much did Isadora tell you about the Misos yesterday?”

  An invisible weight seemed to press down on Nick’s shoulders, one tinged with a responsibility he hadn’t missed. “Not a lot.”

  Orpheus moved toward a long wooden table to his left and pulled out a chair. “Isa brought them all here after Hades and Zagreus attacked the colony. She tried to keep them in Tiyrns, but the Council threw a complete fit.”

  The dark energy came rushing back, a slow simmer beneath Nick’s skin as he pulled out a chair across from Orpheus and sat. He didn’t like the thought of his people anywhere near the Council, but he was thankful that Isadora had been able to get them to safety. Something he should have done.

  More guilt rushed in. “Not a surprise.”

  “Yeah, well.” Orpheus sighed. “They didn’t make things easy for the Misos. They’ve got influence within the capital and used that influence to threaten and manipulate. Shopkeepers refused to sell to them. Jobs were unavailable. The Council even put forth a mandate that Misos young couldn’t be taught in the same schools as Argolean young. In response, Isa tried to set up a mini city here within the castle walls so the Misos could have access to everything they needed, but this place isn’t as big as your old digs. They were busting at the seams. The Kyrenia settlement in the Aegis Mountains seemed like the perfect answer.”

  Nick’s mind skipped back over the walls surrounding the settlement, the rebuilt homes and buildings.

  “It’s got a dark history,” Orpheus went on. “Not sure if you’re familiar with it, but the witches used to inhabit Kyrenia. They created their own little city out from under the influence of the Council. Over time, it turned into a refugee settlement for any and all who were banished or chose to live on the fringes of Argolean society, not just witches. I used to trade with them back in the day. They were self-sustaining, and their numbers were continually growing. Until the Council decided they were gaining too much power and wiped them out.”

  “Strengt
h in numbers,” Phineus muttered from the end of the table where he was eating a bowl of cereal.

  “Fuckers,” Cerek muttered from the other side of the kitchen as he flipped pancakes to a plate and poured more batter on the griddle.

  “No argument here.” Orpheus looked back at Nick. “About twenty years ago, the Council sent in their private army and burned the place to the ground.”

  Nick leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “And the Argonauts didn’t do anything to stop it?”

  “We didn’t know about it,” Phineus said. “Most of us were on rotation in the human realm when it happened. Zander was the only one here, and by the time he caught wind of what was going on and called us all back, it was pretty much done.”

  Nick looked back to Orpheus, thinking about Cynna and what she’d told him about her family. “The king had to know.”

  “Motherfucker,” Cerek mumbled from the counter, not looking up from what he was doing.

  “He did know,” Orpheus said, drawing Nick’s gaze once more. “He okayed it. According to the Council, the witches were spreading anti-Argolean propaganda and therefore needed to be dealt with swiftly.”

  “The king claimed he didn’t know there were others at the settlement besides witches,” Phineus said, “but that’s a lie. He knew. Everyone knew.”

  “She knew her father approved the Council’s attack on this settlement. She sat back while hundreds—no, thousands—of people were slaughtered because they were different.”

  Cynna’s words floated in Nick’s head, sending a chill down his spine. If Isadora had known what had happened at Kyrenia, he believed in his gut she wouldn’t have been able to change the outcome, especially not if Theron and the Argonauts had been sent away on purpose to keep them from stopping it. But it didn’t change the fact Cynna was right. And a place in his heart went out to her, understanding her hatred, seeing her need for revenge in a whole new light.

  Nick’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Orpheus again. “So Isadora is upping security at the settlement because she’s afraid the Council’s going to strike again?”

  “Yeah,” Orpheus said. “There’s been no overt threat, but she’s being cautious. After Kyrenia was destroyed, the remaining witches moved deeper into the mountains, residing in tent cities that could be easily moved if the Council discovered their locations. Delia, the leader of the coven, is the keeper of the moving portals, which Isa used a few times to cross back and forth between here and the human realm without the Council or the Argonauts knowing. When Isa decided to rebuild the settlement, she asked Delia for help. The witches were more than eager to get involved. Rebuilding Kyrenia is an in-your-face fuck-you to the Council. But as yet, they’re not living there in mass numbers. Only the Misos.”

  “Who the Council clearly doesn’t want in Argolea,” Nick guessed.

  “Right. Things are tense here,” Orpheus said. “Isa pulled Argonauts off the search for you and the search for the water element to provide more protection for Kyrenia.”

  Fuck. Reality carved a hole in the center of Nick’s chest. His people couldn’t stay in this land, not if the Council was looking for a reason to wipe them out. He needed to find them a new colony in the human realm. Someplace Hades and Zagreus didn’t know about. Someplace where they could be safe.

  Just the thought of starting over, of being the leader he’d grown so tired of being, pressed even more weight against his shoulders and chest. He felt boxed in, desperate for air, and that dark energy was humming even louder. Whispering…if he just let go, if he let it consume him, he’d no longer care about a race that had never done anything for him besides pull him in so many different directions he wanted to scream.

  “You should go out there.” Orpheus leaned back in his chair. “Look around. It would be a real morale booster for your people to see your face. It’s been hard on them since you left.”

  More of that heavy, soul-crushing guilt rushed in, pushing out the last of Nick’s good mood. This was the life he’d agreed to. Doing for others and never having anything for himself. And while once he’d thought that was enough, that leading the Misos was his way of getting back at the Council for everything they’d done to him, he knew now it wasn’t. He wanted more out of life than this. Needed someone to keep him motivated, strong…happy.

  Cynna.

  His skin warmed at just the thought of her. At the one person in his life who didn’t take, but gave.

  He pushed back from the table and nodded toward the griddle, where Cerek was pulling off the last of the pancakes. “I’ll take a plate of those with me.”

  Orpheus’s chair skidded across the tile floor as he stood. “Does that mean you’ll go out to the settlement?”

  “Yeah,” Nick said, hating that he was agreeing, knowing he had no other choice. “But first I’m gonna take Cynna some breakfast.”

  Cerek set a plate of pancakes, syrup, butter, and silverware on a tray and handed it to Nick. “You want coffee?”

  “Do the gods like wine? Yeah. Put that shit on here too.”

  Cerek chuckled and grabbed two cups from the cupboard.

  “About the female,” Orpheus started.

  “Don’t.” Nick didn’t bother to look Orpheus’s way. “She’s not your concern.”

  Orpheus drew in a breath. “I was just gonna say…I didn’t realize you were into the whole whips-and-chains thing. Considering who she used to work for, though, I’m guessing you are now.”

  Shit. Orpheus knew about Cynna’s relationship with Zagreus. But then, Nick shouldn’t be surprised. Before joining the Argonauts, Orpheus had spent plenty of time in the human realm dabbling in the dark and depraved himself.

  Nick fought back that switch of dark energy. “She’s no threat to you or anyone else.”

  “I sure the hell hope not,” Orpheus muttered while Cerek crossed and set two steaming cups of coffee on Nick’s tray. “Because if she is, that’s gonna fuck things up royally. Not just for you, but for everyone in this damn place. Do yourself a favor, Niko. Ask her about her parents. You might learn something of interest.”

  Orpheus left before Nick could ask what the hell he meant. But Nick’s mind was already swirling with the reality that he didn’t know all that much about Cynna other than what she’d told him about her parents being killed. In fact, he knew very little about her. And suddenly her relationship with Delia, the witch, seemed of great importance.

  He carried the tray back up to their room and closed the door at his back. Cynna was just stepping out of the bathroom when he entered, wearing a long black skirt that fell all the way to her bare feet, a white shirt that accentuated her breasts and made her skin look even darker, and a fitted denim jacket he itched to pull from her toned, sexy shoulders.

  That darkness slowly receded as he took in every inch of her—the curves at her hips, the swell of her breasts, her dark hair pulled back from her face and tied in a neat tail, and the little silver drops that hung from her earlobes, catching the light as she moved. And just the sight of her created enough room in his chest so he could breathe again.

  She looked down at herself. “That Siren chick brought me more clothes while you were out. She must think I have that girly-girl look about me, because all she left was this skirt.”

  Nick remembered Cynna parading around Zagreus’s tunnels in that skimpy little leather miniskirt and those sexy stiletto boots. And while he’d liked that look a lot, he had to admit, he liked this girl-next-door one too. “It works for me.”

  She frowned. “I’d be happier in the jeans I wore yesterday, but some maid came in and took them to the laundry before I realized I was going to be left with this.” She eyed the tray in his hand. “What is that?”

  “Breakfast.” Already feeling better, he set the tray on the table near the window and motioned her over. “Pancakes.”

  Her dark eyes brimmed with cautiousness as she crossed the floor and slowly lowered herself to the chair opposite him. “You cooked?”


  He huffed out a half laugh, half snort as he set an empty plate in front of her and transferred pancakes, then did the same for him. “No. Cooking is not my specialty. I snagged it from the kitchen.”

  “Well.” Her features relaxed as she lifted her fork and waited while he poured syrup all over her pancakes. “Then I’m afraid this is as far as this goes, because I don’t cook either. You clearly need to be with someone who can make sure you don’t starve.”

  No. He eyed her across the table as she bit into her breakfast. He needed to be with someone who cared about what happened to him. Someone who knew how to comfort him when he was stressed. Whose touch made him forget everything but her. Who craved him as much as he craved her. He needed to be with someone…exactly like her.

  “So,” he said, shaking out his napkin, working for casual because he knew he could never admit all that to her without freaking her out. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you yesterday how you know the witch.”

  She stilled, then swallowed the bite in her mouth and quickly reached for her coffee. “You mean Delia?”

  “Was she the one in that house?” He cut into his pancake.

  “Yes. She was a friend of my mother’s. She helped me escape when Kyrenia was attacked. I told you that before.”

  “So she’s not a relative?”

  “No. I’m not a witch, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  He wasn’t. But it was nice to know she wasn’t hiding any trippy spells for later use. He lifted his coffee. “How did your parents end up in Kyrenia?”

  She moved the bite around in her mouth, but apprehension slid across her features for just a split second before she swallowed. “My father used to be involved in Argolean politics. After a while, he didn’t agree with what the Council was doing to the refugees in Kyrenia, and as a show of defiance, he chose to relocate with them.”

  Nick sipped his coffee. “He was a politician? What kind?”

  Cynna hesitated but didn’t meet his eyes. And several long seconds passed before she said, “He was a Council member.”

 

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