Enraptured

by Elisabeth Naughton

  Orpheus froze. He turned for the door.

  “There’s no time!” Maelea screamed. “It’s coming now!”

  “Sonofabitch stupid Siren,” Orpheus muttered as he pushed Maelea toward the window. “Go!”

  Maelea grasped the window frame and climbed from the chair he’d been sitting in earlier to the window ledge. “Why aren’t they telling those poor people to get off the train?”

  “Because they don’t know what we know. Now move!”

  “Gods,” she whispered, “they’ll all die.”

  Orpheus pushed her out the window. “Haul ass!”

  Maelea closed her eyes and jumped. She smacked into the frozen snow with a grunt, rolled to her side. Pain radiated from her shoulder outward, along with the jolt of ice-crystal-coated air streaking into her lungs. But the violent shaking grabbed her attention and forced her eyes open. That and the deafening roar from somewhere above.

  Orpheus was on his feet at her side before she could find her balance. He yanked her up. She jerked around and looked up at the colossal mountain, one whole section of snow dislodging and rushing down the slope with plumes of white that engulfed and devoured every boulder and tree in its path, the entire mass heading right toward the front of the train.

  “Run!” Orpheus jerked her by the arm away from the river of snow.

  Maelea’s legs kicked into gear and she tore after Orpheus as fast as she could. They raced past the end of the train, past humans opening their own windows and peering out at them, shouting questions. Past screams and horror-filled eyes, as understanding dawned.

  The roar grew louder. She turned to look back just as the deluge of white slammed into the front four cars, devouring them in billowy clouds of powder that shot spirals and columns of snow up from the mammoth slide.

  A gasp tore from her mouth. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped on the tracks some hundred yards away and was staring back at the devastation until Orpheus turned her by the shoulders to face him.

  “Focus, Maelea. Take this.” He shoved the handle of a knife the size of her forearm into her hand, closed her fingers over the end. “Stay with the humans back here and keep your damn coat on.” He jerked the zipper up to her chin. “Help will be coming. I’ll be back for you.”

  Her wide eyes shot from the knife to him. “Wait.” He was already jogging back toward what was left of the train. “Where are you going?”

  “To find that damn Siren.”

  He wove through the twenty or so people who’d managed to escape from the end of the train and were standing on the tracks, staring at the devastation with horrified expressions. They obviously hadn’t seen her yet.

  Her gaze shot back to the knife, and then she turned to look down the empty track behind her. The track that shot off to the horizon and disappeared in the moonlit snow. She could run. This was her chance to escape. She took a step toward freedom, then stopped short.

  Three hellhounds emerged from the trees and moved onto the tracks, their glowing red eyes blinding orbs of light far off in the distance.

  ***

  Isadora’s pulse raced as she waited for Callia to finish her examination. Beside her, she felt her mate’s anxiety as if it were her own. The exam was routine, and she felt fine, but there was always the possibility something could go wrong, and Demetrius knew that better than anyone.

  Three months into her pregnancy and he was already a bear to live with. But he was her bear, so she cut him some slack, at least this early on.

  Callia lifted her hands from Isadora’s bare stomach and opened her eyes. A smile spread across the healer’s face. “Everything’s good.”

  The air rushed out of Isadora’s lungs on a long breath and she smiled, looking up at Demetrius. “See? I told you, worrywart.”

  Her big strong Argonaut husband scowled down at her. “There’s still six months to go, kardia.”

  She knew he was worried some genetic mutation from his mother was going to seep into their baby, but she didn’t share his fear. This baby was a blessing, not a curse. And once it was born and he saw that for himself, he’d believe, just as she did.

  Callia reached for a clipboard, jotted notes. “You can sit up now.” As Isadora pulled her green sweater down and swung her legs over the side of the exam table in her half sister’s clinic, Callia added, “Heartbeat’s strong. You’re measuring right on, and I don’t sense anything out of the ordinary. How’s your appetite?”

  “Like a bird,” Demetrius said.

  Isadora shot him a shape up look, then glanced back at her sister. “Better. The nausea’s mostly gone.”

  “Good,” Callia said. “You’re in the second trimester now. Your energy level should perk up too.” She winked at Demetrius. “You might want to rest up, big guy. This is the honeymoon phase, when a pregnant gynaíka needs plenty of sex.”

  His cheeks turned red and he darted Isadora a holy hell, tell her not to say stuff like that look.

  Isadora laughed, her pulse definitely back in the relaxed range. Gods, she loved this Argonaut.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in,” Callia called.

  Zander poked his head into the room. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “No.” Callia’s face brightened as he stepped in and closed the door. “We’re done here. Miss me already, did you?”

  With a cheesy grin, the oldest Argonaut of the bunch moved toward his mate and kissed her cheek. “Always, thea, but it’s not you I’m here for right now.”

  Callia’s brows lifted. “Oh, no?”

  “No,” he answered, looking toward Isadora. “It’s you I need, actually.”

  Isadora’s smile faded as her feet dropped to the floor and she stood. Beside her she felt Demetrius tense. “What’s happened?”

  “We have visitors who are requesting an audience with the queen. They’re with Theron at the castle.”

  “Why does that sound ominous?” Isadora asked as she took the cardigan Demetrius handed her and they headed for the door.

  “Because it is,” Zander mumbled, stepping aside to let Isadora pass.

  “Zander?” Callia asked.

  “It’s okay, thea, but you might want to tag along too. Just in case Isadora needs you.”

  Isadora didn’t know quite what to expect when she reached the castle, but when she stepped into her father’s old office, which was now Theron’s headquarters for Argonaut business, she realized just how accurate Zander’s comment had been.

  The two females standing on the great alpha seal in the middle of the floor turned when she entered the room. Theron, the leader of the Argonauts, stepped past them and greeted Isadora. “Thanks for coming right over, Your Majesty.”

  Isadora let his formality pass without correcting him as she normally did. They’d grown up together. Theron had been her father’s most trusted confidant amongst the Argonauts. And at one time they’d been betrothed, though there’d never been a love match between them. Thankfully, Theron had found his soul mate Casey, Isadora’s other half sister, before they’d been bound. Which had given Isadora the time she’d needed to realize that she was Demetrius’s soul mate. But at their core they were friends, and she respected and admired Theron now as they worked together for the good of their world.

  Tension hung like a thick cloud in the room as Isadora moved forward to greet their guests. Both women were close to six feet tall, one with curly red hair, the other with chestnut locks. And both were dressed like warriors, with leather breastplates that bore the stamp of the gods, arm guards, and knee-high black platform boots.

  Sirens. In Argolea. This couldn’t be good.

  “Your Highness,” the redhead said as they both inclined their heads in a brief bow. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”

  “You’re most welcome,” Isadora answered, very aware the observers in the room were as curious about this meeting as she was.

  “This is Rhebekkah,” Theron said, gesturing to the redhead, “and Khloe.
They’ve come with a request from Athena.”

  Isadora didn’t need to catch Casey’s skeptical look on the far side of the room to read her sister’s mind. She and her two half sisters shared more than just their father the king’s royal blood. They shared a link to the Horae, the ancient Greek goddesses of balance and order. She had no doubt that Casey and Callia’s Hora markings were vibrating just as hers was, indicating a major imbalance.

  “It’s not often we get a request from Olympus.” Isadora moved toward Theron’s desk and leaned back against the aged mahogany. Theron stepped up on her left, Demetrius on her right, flanking her with their size and support, both staying far enough away to let her take the lead. “What can we do for Athena?”

  “We bring Athena’s condolences on your father’s passing,” Khloe said.

  A small space in Isadora’s chest pinched at the mention of her father, who’d finally passed from old age not more than a month ago. He’d been a great king but a lousy father. They’d never been close, but he’d instilled within her a love for their realm and an honor to serve, and for that she would always be grateful.

  “Thank you. That means a great deal to me.”

  Both Sirens nodded.

  “But,” Isadora added, “something tells me my father’s passing isn’t the reason you’re standing before me now.”

  The Sirens glanced at each other and then Khloe said, “It’s no secret that in these tumultuous times it is as important as ever to maintain balance within the human realm.”

  No one knew that more than Isadora. “I agree.”

  “There are those who would choose to destroy the balance the gods have created,” Khloe went on. “One in particular, who seeks the Orb of Krónos for personal gain. I’m sure you’re aware of the Orb’s significance.”

  Oh, was she ever. Not that they needed to know that little detail. “I was under the assumption the Orb had not been found,” she lied.

  “Unfortunately, it has. By a warlock who once inhabited your realm.”

  Apophis. Yep, Isadora knew him too. And she was fully aware he was lurking somewhere in the human realm, in Gryphon’s body, waiting for the chance to use the Orb and build his coven of witches so he could one day overthrow Zeus.

  “Interesting.” Isadora crossed her feet at the ankles, braced her hands against the solid desk. “But I’m not sure what that has to do with us.”

  “Athena respectfully requests the help of your Argonauts in locating the warlock,” Rhebekkah said, “and the Orb.”

  Isadora narrowed her eyes. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the Orb isn’t of much use without the four basic elements.”

  “You’re correct. It’s not.”

  “So you’re telling me the Sirens are having trouble locating one insignificant warlock who is unable to harness the true powers of the Orb? And you want our help because he’s of this realm?”

  “Not entirely,” Khloe said. “Normally, we wouldn’t need to enlist the aid of your guardians, but our efforts have been diverted. You see, it’s one of your own that seeks to take the Orb from the warlock and disrupt the balance of the human realm. We have Sirens working to head him off, but he already has one element. Perhaps more.”

  Orpheus.

  Their visit suddenly made a whole lot more sense.

  She pushed away from the desk, stepped toward the windows, and looked out at the emerald green fields beyond the castle. Far off in the distance, the Olympic Ocean glimmered in the sunlight. “One of our own, you say?”

  “Yes,” Khloe said, turning after her. “An Argolean. One with a history of causing imbalance within the human realm. He also happens to be a daemon hybrid. I’m sure you can understand why Zeus does not want to see the Orb fall into his possession.”

  Skata. Orpheus’s lineage was one secret she’d kept for many years. And had hoped to forever keep from the Argonauts.

  Isadora caught Casey’s surprised look before she turned back toward the Sirens, careful to keep her face as neutral as possible. “So you want us to find the warlock before this Argolean hybrid does.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what of the hybrid?”

  “We’ll take care of him.”

  Isadora didn’t like the sound of that at all. She glanced toward Theron and read his no way in hell look. He wasn’t Orpheus’s biggest fan—not by a long shot—but even he knew Orpheus had helped the Argonauts on several occasions.

  She refocused on Khloe. “I’ll speak with my Argonauts and see what we can do. Unfortunately we’re stretched thin as it is. We recently lost a guardian, as I’m sure you’re aware, and with the increase in daemon-hybrid activity, in addition to Atalanta’s daemons still roaming the human realm, my guardians have their hands full.”

  “Of course,” Khloe said, though her olive green eyes screamed her skepticism. “If they could keep a lookout and report back anything they hear to us, though, Athena would be most appreciative.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Isadora lied. “And if you happen to come across this Argolean hybrid, I would appreciate the same.”

  “Of course,” Khloe replied in what was very clearly the biggest lie of all.

  Loud footfalls echoed from the hallway. Isadora looked toward the door just as Titus stepped into the room and froze, his hazel eyes shifting to Isadora, the Sirens, over to Theron, and back to Isadora again.

  Isadora moved toward the Sirens and held out her hand. “Please send my best to Athena.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  They each grasped her hand in turn, bowed slightly, then turned for the door. Titus moved back to let them pass.

  When they were finally alone, Theron said, “Titus, close those doors.”

  A lock of wavy hair fell free of the leather tie at the nape of Titus’s neck as he shut the double doors and turned to face the room once more with no way that was real eyes. “Was that what I think it was?”

  “Yeah,” Theron muttered. “Skata.” He pinned Isadora with a hard look. “You don’t seem surprised by the announcement good ol’ O is a hybrid.”

  Isadora caught Demetrius’s gaze at Theron’s side and drew from his strength. He knew the truth about Orpheus too. He’d been in Atalanta’s lair. He’d seen Orpheus’s glowing eyes. Though Orpheus hadn’t shifted then—at least when she’d been there—it had been more than clear what he really was.

  She looked back at Theron. “I’m not.”

  “Holy Hades,” Zander said. “Orpheus is a hybrid? All this time? How the hell is that even possible?”

  Isadora raked a hand through her short hair as shock rippled across the room. Even she had no explanation for that one. Orpheus was Argolean, Medean, and daemon. It made no sense, and yet there he was.

  “He’s an Argonaut now, too,” Theron pointed out with a dark look that said this was not at all what he’d expected or wanted. “Don’t forget that. As the last remaining descendant of Perseus’s line, he’s got Gryphon’s guardian markings. Man, this is a clusterfuck. An Argonaut-daemon hybrid. Wait until the Council catches wind of this.”

  “Don’t forget Orpheus is also Lucian’s nephew,” Isadora said. “And even before we lost Gryphon, he was next in line to take Lucian’s place when the Council leader retires.”

  Titus snorted near the door. “Now that’s something I’d like to see.”

  “No way a daemon hybrid will ever serve on the Council of Elders,” Theron said. “Skata. When did you find out?”

  Isadora dropped her arm and stepped into the middle of the room. “When I discovered his lineage is irrelevant. What remains is that this is Orpheus we’re talking about. Before we even found Casey, I had a vision that Orpheus would somehow be important to our cause, and he’s proven that time and again.”

  She knew her foresight wouldn’t be enough to convince them, so she turned to Zander and Callia, both of whom looked as shell-shocked as Theron. “And let’s not forget, without Orpheus’s help you wouldn’t have your son Max now
either.”

  Zander put his arm on Callia’s shoulder, pulled her back against his chest protectively.

  Isadora turned from face to face, pleading a case she’d known from the first day she’d assumed the crown she’d one day have to make. “Orpheus is of no more threat to us than Nick is.”

  She knew the reference to Nick Blades, the leader of the half-breed colony in the human realm—a colony made up of Argolean-humans—would resonate with the group. Aside from being their biggest ally in the human realm, Nick was also Demetrius’s half brother, and he wanted to see Atalanta and her daemons destroyed as much as they did.

  “We would be remiss if we aided Athena and her Sirens in their quest to persecute him,” she added.

  “Orpheus has always had a hard-on for power,” Titus pointed out. “He kept that damn Orb after Max brought it to us. Shit, he practically gave it to that warlock and started this whole damn mess.”

  Before she said the words, she knew Titus read them in her mind, but she said them anyway, for the benefit of the others. “We know he did that in an attempt to save Gryphon’s life. He had no idea that warlock’s energy had destroyed Gryphon’s soul or that the warlock would harness the Orb’s power to take possession of Gryphon’s body.”

  Titus crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Doesn’t change the fact Gryph’s in Tartarus right now because O fucked things up.”

  No, it didn’t. Just as it didn’t change the fact the Argonauts stuck together. They were all still mourning the loss of their brother in battle. And even though Orpheus now had Gryphon’s guardian markings, he would forever be an outcast as far as they were concerned. The one responsible for Gryphon’s death.

  Theron pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had the mother of all headaches. “We’re not saying Orpheus is the enemy, Your Highness. We’re just pointing out his track record isn’t so great. And now that we know he’s a hybrid on top of it all…”

  Theron let the words linger, and Isadora’s protective wall where Orpheus was concerned sprang up. She owed him her life. More than her life. She owed him for saving Demetrius in Atalanta’s lair and for helping her stop the Council from executing him. She also owed him for protecting the life of her unborn child, a child who she was every day more and more convinced would play an important role in this world. She wasn’t about to let Zeus or Athena or any Siren “take him down.”