Enraptured

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “I am,” Casey answered. “My half sister isn’t. She’s—”

  The names finally clicked and Skyla’s eyes widened. “The queen of Argolea.”

  Isadora clasped her hands in front of her, nodded. “Very good, Siren. The gods are obviously keeping tabs on what happens in our little part of the world.”

  Of course they were. They had to. There was that whole self-preservation thing going on.

  The small of Skyla’s back tightened. No weapons on either of them, not that she could see, but that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat. What was the queen of Argolea doing at a half-breed colony?

  Isadora moved farther into the room, stopping near the couch in the small sitting area. “Orpheus and Nick went with the others. They’ll be back soon.”

  “Others?” Skyla asked, not moving from her spot near the window.

  “My husband.” Casey nodded toward the other woman. “And the queen’s husband too. Both of whom are Argonauts.”

  Well, of course they were.

  “We came up here,” Isadora said, “to discuss your interest in Orpheus.”

  Ah. Now this was starting to make more sense. “Since he’s one of your warriors, my interest in him obviously concerns you.”

  “Yes,” the queen answered. “Greatly.”

  “Orpheus doesn’t need you to be concerned for him. If you knew what he is, you wouldn’t be.”

  “I know exactly what he is,” Isadora answered. “And though you may see that as a negative, I see it as the opposite. I’m not about to let anyone—especially you—ruin him.”

  The queen’s last words hung in the silence between them, a ridiculous warning from a petite creature any Siren would ignore. But Skyla wasn’t ignoring it. Because only one thought revolved in her mind as she stared at the queen. “You care for him.”

  “I do. While he’s not the easiest person to get along with—”

  “You can say that again,” Casey mumbled.

  “—he is not defined by that part of himself he keeps carefully locked down.”

  His daemon side. The queen was talking about his daemon, which meant she did know what he was.

  “It makes him unpredictable,” Skyla managed.

  “Unpredictability is often an asset, especially in a war the likes of which we are embroiled in. Regardless of that unpredictability, Orpheus has shown his link to the ancient heroes more times than I can count. If he was only what you or Zeus say he is, he wouldn’t give a damn about me or my sisters or our world. And the truth is—whether he will admit it or not—he does.”

  Tingles spread through Skyla’s chest. And that word, hero, the one growing louder and louder in her head whenever she thought of Orpheus, increased to the sound of a blaring trumpet. “How?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How does he give a damn?” Her neck grew hot and sweaty. “Give me an example.”

  Isadora looked at her sister again, and when Casey nodded, she said, “I can give you several. He saved my life. He saved my husband’s life. He saved our other sister’s son Max’s life. Together with my mate’s help he was able to send Atalanta to the Fields of Asphodel, thereby giving us the chance to hunt her daemons and get a leg up on this war. But none of those are as important as the reason I’m about to give you.”

  Skyla’s chest tightened. And in the queen’s words, every suspicion she’d had about Orpheus was confirmed.

  Hero.

  She moved toward the bed, sat down on the edge before her legs gave out.

  “Three months ago,” the queen went on, “an Argonaut was injured in our realm by a powerful warlock who’d banded forces with Atalanta. Gryphon, Orpheus’s brother, suffered a tremendous blast of energy during that fight that left him weak and nearly dead. Our healers did all they could for him, but it wasn’t enough. When it became clear that Gryphon’s body had regained its strength, but that his soul was slowly dying, Orpheus gave up whatever personal plans he had for the Orb of Krónos and brought it to Gryphon. Even without the four elements, the Orb has powers beyond explanation. But the warlock’s energy had destroyed enough of Gryphon’s soul that he was able to take possession of Gryphon’s body, thereby sending Gryphon’s soul to the Underworld.”

  The Underworld. Oh gods.

  Skyla’s breaths grew quick as Orpheus’s intentions—why he was seeking the Orb of Krónos—suddenly became clear. She reached out and gripped the post at the corner of the bed, knowing what was coming even before the queen said it.

  “I’m sure Zeus told you Orpheus is after the Orb for power and glory.” Isadora’s eyes grew hard. “But he’s not. He’s after the Orb so he can harness its powers and travel into the Underworld to save his brother’s life. A life he feels responsible for losing. He won’t admit that to you if you ask. He won’t even admit it to me. And sometimes I’m not even sure he can admit it to himself, but that doesn’t change the truth. The ándres who has been there every time we’ve needed him for whatever reason is more a hero than most in our realm. And he’s more a hero than you or I could ever hope to be.”

  Hero. The word was there again, roaring through her mind like a freight train.

  “And when you say he is an Argonaut,” Isadora continued, “you may be right—now—but he was not one by birth. He was passed over by the gods to serve. Those marks on his arms? They only appeared after his younger brother’s soul was sent to the Underworld.”

  “Siren?” Casey asked. “Are you okay?”

  Skyla swallowed hard. Tried to nod. Wasn’t sure she succeeded.

  Dear gods, she’d been right. Zeus and Athena were lying to her. Lying because they wanted the Orb for themselves. Not to rescue a soul, like Orpheus, but to ensure no one became more powerful than them.

  Hero. The word sucked up all the empty space in her head, shoving aside every last doubt she’d had about Orpheus because of his daemon. Whether he purposely hadn’t shifted or couldn’t anymore didn’t matter. He was still heroic, even with the daemon.

  “You said he was with the Argonauts.” Skyla’s mind was a thick hazy soup of lies long told and so easily believed. “Why? Where?”

  “They went to deal with your tail,” Isadora answered.

  “My what?

  “You’ve had two Sirens following you for quite some time.” Casey brushed her hair over her shoulder. “And they weren’t the same two that came to Argolea to request the Argonaut’s help locating the warlock who has the Orb.”

  Skyla’s head darted up. “Sirens from my order came to you?”

  “Yes,” Isadora said. “I take it from your reaction this is news to you?”

  Big news. Enormous news. Yeah, Skyla had yet to check in with Athena as she was supposed to, but if the head of her order had already sent Sirens to tail them and also to Argolea to request help, it meant she’d never trusted Skyla in the first place. It also meant if Skyla didn’t follow through on her orders and kill Orpheus, as Zeus wanted, her future with the Sirens would come to a dramatic end.

  Of course, maybe that was the plan all along. A sneaking suspicion took root in the bottom of her stomach as she gripped the mattress. Maybe Athena had set Skyla up to fail right from the start.

  The Siren call to duty is one that is meant to be answered, served, then abandoned, and we never intended for you to serve this long.

  Reality was a sharp, swift slap to the face. Athena had said the words clear as day, and Skyla had heard them but hadn’t realized their meaning.

  “Siren?” Casey asked again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little green.”

  No, Skyla wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot. Because this suddenly was not another of the thousands of missions Zeus had sent her on over her long life.

  This time, she was the prey.

  Chapter 15

  Hades was in a piss-poor mood. His hellhounds had failed. Scouts had found them in the mountains of Montana with Siren arrows through their hearts.

  Orpheus, the Siren, and that stain, Maelea, w
ere nowhere to be found. Not even a trace of them remained.

  He tapped his long fingers against the intricate armrest of his blackened throne and waited for Orcus to bring him news. Yeah, he’d lost track of Maelea, but that didn’t mean he was out of options. He was the Lord of the Underworld because he anticipated his enemy’s next move. And he was rarely wrong.

  If Atalanta was plotting something in Sin City with his father, Krónos, and the soul of the Argonaut Gryphon, it meant her escape plan was imminent. And if she promised Krónos enough, his lying shit-for-a-father would tell her exactly where the Orb could be found. Even though Krónos was locked in Tartarus, he was connected to that damn thing. He knew its every movement in the human realm.

  Hades ran a hand over his chin. Once Atalanta got out, what would she need? Her army of daemons had disbanded when she was sent to the Fields of Asphodel. They now roamed the earth in secret, causing havoc, but they were no longer organized thanks to the Argonauts. She couldn’t rely on them. She’d need her slave’s help locating the Orb. And a soul needed a body, to be of any use in the human realm. He stroked the patch of hair on his chin. The Argonaut Gryphon’s body was still alive, wasn’t it? Possessed by that warlock, Apophis.

  Apophis…

  Hades’s mind skipped back to his last confrontation with the warlock. In Demeter’s temple on the island of Pandora. The warlock had been trying to take the earth element from Isadora. Hades had intervened, wanting the element for himself. Thinking back, he realized there had been something different about Apophis that day. Not just the warlock’s newly acquired—and improved—body, but a strength the aging warlock shouldn’t have possessed in the human realm, even in the young Argonaut’s skin.

  “Motherfucker.” Hades pushed out of his chair. The warlock had the Orb. He’d had it the whole time. And Hades had been so intent on getting the stupid element from the little queen, he hadn’t even noticed.

  He turned a slow circle. Pictured his precious wife. Persephone would have known, of course. During the month she’d had access to Isadora’s power of foresight, thanks to the deal she’d made with the then-princess to save her sister’s life, Persephone had been able to see where each of the elements and the Orb were hiding. That’s how he’d known Isadora was going to find the earth element in the first place. But his wife had neglected to mention the Orb. The Orb she undoubtedly knew was with Apophis right now.

  “That traitorous little wench…”

  “I’m sure you couldn’t possibly mean me.”

  Hades whipped around to find a Fate sitting on his altar, her legs crossed, her diaphanous robe hanging off her lithe and wrinkled body to float to the blackened floor. Annoyance at the interruption and bitter hatred for the creature who screwed with his life vied for his attention. “You are a wench of another kind.”

  Lachesis smiled, the bitch, but it faded quickly when she said, “And you violated our agreement.”

  He rested his hands on his hips. She was talking about her precious hero. Like he fucking cared about Orpheus right now. “I did no such thing. The weasel’s still alive, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, no thanks to you.” She tipped her head. “Hades, I shouldn’t have to remind you, you cannot send hellhounds to kill him. We made a deal.”

  “My hellhounds are the ones who are dead.”

  “And rightly so. But that doesn’t change the fact you tried to destroy him. And while I’m at it, I’ll remind you that you cannot kill Maelea either.”

  No shit, which pissed him off even more. He dropped back onto his throne and looked past her to the window beyond, irritated to the nth degree that he had to deal with her shit now. All the gods hated the Fates, but none more than him. Especially her, because she came here with conditions no immortal should be able to demand, especially in his damn realm. “I wasn’t after the fucking stain.”

  She slid off the altar, floated across the ground. A petite creature he’d like to backhand into eternity. Only he didn’t dare. Because like it or not, the Fates were stronger than any god. Not fallen angels like him and the other gods, but the real deal. The Creator’s right hand…wenches.

  “You’re afraid he’s going to succeed.”

  He scoffed. He wasn’t afraid Orpheus was going to succeed. He just didn’t want the moron to muck up his plans for the Orb before the so-called hero crashed and burned.

  He cut his glare from the window to her. “Your precious hero won’t succeed at anything. No matter what I do to him, his true colors will reveal themselves soon enough. A soul cannot be changed. And a black one is black for all eternity, Lachesis. I know that better than anyone.”

  “Not even the daemon you cursed him with has turned him completely, Hades. There is good in him still.”

  “Very little. Let’s not forget he stole the air element from Zeus in the first place. That in his second chance at life—a chance you insisted he deserved—he’s fucked with the Orb more times than I can count. It might look like he’s doing good, but he’s only out for himself. And as soon as he finds the Orb again, you’ll see how little good there is left in him.”

  She held his gaze a long beat, a beady-eyed stare that boiled the blood in his veins and made him dream of vengeance. Of getting his hands on the Orb once and for all and showing her the true meaning of power and just what she could do with her meddling.

  “Do not send your hounds after Orpheus again,” she warned. “I will strike them down if you do. And instead of worrying about my hero, perhaps you should turn your attention to your wife. She plots against you.”

  A wicked smile curled his mouth. “I know. Ain’t it grand?”

  Lachesis didn’t answer. Only faded to nothing until he was once more alone in his temple.

  His humor died. As much as he admired Persephone’s ruthlessness, his own wife would not beat him at this game.

  “Orcus!” He pushed out of his chair again as plans and options whipped like a tornado through his mind. “Where is that little bastard?”

  By the time Orcus dragged his lame leg into the room, Hades was pacing the blackened stones, thinking through every step. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Find my wife.”

  “But Maelea—”

  “Forget the stain for now. I’m more concerned with what Persephone’s up to. Find her and follow her and report back her every move.”

  “You think she knows something, my lord?”

  “I think she knows everything. And while you’re at it, find out what Tantalus discovered in Sin City. I want to know what my father is plotting with Atalanta.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  The creature ducked his head, slithered out of the room. And alone, Hades clenched his jaw. It shouldn’t be this hard to keep everyone in line. They were all plotting against him, wrestling for control of something none of them deserved. His father, his brothers, the Fates…even his precious little wife.

  Of course, that plotting and deal making behind the scenes would make it all the more enjoyable when he finally had the Orb, wouldn’t it? And when everyone—the meddling Fates included—finally bowed to him for good.

  ***

  It was after midnight by the time Orpheus made it back to the colony. He fully expected Maelea and Skyla to be sacked out somewhere, but he didn’t care if he had to yank the Siren from a deep sleep. She was going to tell him what the hell was going on.

  Isadora and Casey were sitting in the grand hall on the fifth floor of the castle sipping tea when he and the others stepped off the elevator. Enormous stone pillars rose around the outskirts of the room, separating the living space from the hallway. Isadora’s face brightened when she saw Demetrius at Orpheus’s back. “How did it go?”

  “Good,” Nick answered.

  “Piece of cake,” Theron grinned, walking around the couch to sit on the armrest near Casey and pull her close. She smiled up at him and leaned in as he kissed her temple. “Those Sirens don’t have a clue what hit them.”

  “And we’re sure Zeus can
’t link them back to us?” Isadora asked.

  “Nothing’s a hundred percent certain, kardia,” Demetrius said, sitting in the chair next to her, “but those Sirens aren’t going to remember anything. When they wake up though…” His voice trailed off as he looked to Nick.

  “When they wake up, what?” Isadora asked.

  Nick scratched the back of his head and shot his brother a keep your trap shut look. “Nothing. They’ll just be wondering what the hell happened, that’s all.”

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?” Isadora asked.

  Because there was. Nick hadn’t informed Isadora his guys were leaving the Sirens with a Titan. Even though a few hadn’t been condemned to Tartarus with the others at the end of the Titanomachy and still roamed the earth, Zeus hated them with a passion. If Isadora knew they’d left the Sirens with one just to screw with the King of the Gods, she’d be less than thrilled. In fact, she’d be irate. Orpheus wasn’t getting in the middle of this one.

  “Where’s Maelea?” he asked.

  “Upstairs.” Isadora set her tea on the coffee table. “Asleep.”

  “And the Siren?”

  “She said something about needing air,” Casey answered.

  Disbelief rippled through Orpheus. “You let her leave?”

  “No.” Isadora pushed to her feet. “She’s still here. The guards know to keep a lookout for her.”

  “Take the elevator to the top floor,” Nick said to Orpheus. “There are a number of turrets and towers on the south end that no one uses because of the wind. If she wanted privacy, that’s where you’ll find her. I’ll double-check with the guards and make sure she didn’t pull anything funny.”

  That thought didn’t put Orpheus at ease. There were measures taken when outsiders visited the colony, steps to make sure they couldn’t find their way back. Skyla couldn’t leave on her own now unless she was escorted out. But knowing her, if she’d suddenly decided to split, she could have seduced any one of those dumb guards to get free. And they would have fallen for her seduction skills a hell of a lot faster than he had.