by Julie Kenner
Relief that it wasn’t Daphne’s blood whipped through Ari, slowing his steps, but that relief waned when he turned his attention to the female. She was dressed in knee-high black snow boots, slim black pants, and a thin jacket. Nothing someone who spent a lot of time in the snow would wear. Her thick mane, a mixture of blonde and brown and red, hung past her shoulders in a sleek wave, and her brilliant blue eyes were guarded as she stared over Daphne’s shoulder toward him. On the ground beside her injured hand, lay a very unique, very intricately carved bow. A bow Ari had definitely seen before.
Siren.
The word ricocheted in his head like a marble zinging around a track. He waited for the rage, for the blackness to overtake him, but nothing happened. Looking out over the trees, he searched for anyone else, but the snowy forest was cold and silent.
“Ari,” Daphne said, her voice dragging his attention back to her. “She needs help.”
Ari watched the blood bubble through Daphne’s fingers. She wanted him to help a Siren, the same being he hunted.
Except...he wasn’t hunting this one. He hadn’t even known she was in the area, which totally went against everything he knew and understood.
“Ari,” Daphne said again, looking over her shoulder with pleading eyes. “She’s going to die if you don’t help her. Please.”
That duty that was ingrained in his DNA kicked into gear, forcing his feet forward before he could stop them. He knelt on the Siren’s other side and rubbed his hands against the thighs of his pants. The female whispered something to Daphne he didn’t catch. In response, Daphne said, “Shh... It’s going to be okay. Trust me.”
Ari wasn’t so sure. He didn’t know what would happen when he touched the Siren, but that duty wouldn’t let him leave. Regardless of what she was, she was injured, and he had the healing gift that could save her. To Daphne, he said, “Move your hands.”
The Siren’s jacket was shredded in three long, angled lines, blood seeping through the garment and running down her arm. Ari reached for the Siren’s ripped collar. The female’s eyes grew even wider, and she jerked back against the rocks.
“He’s not going to kill you,” Daphne said, scooting forward and placing a hand on the Siren’s arm to steady her. “I promise.”
The Siren looked from Daphne back to Ari, and though fear reflected deeply in her eyes, she stilled.
She knew who Ari was. She’d probably been in these woods to kill him, and here he was about to save her life. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and for a split second he considered getting up, dragging Daphne with him back to the snowmobile so the Siren could die as she deserved, but as soon as the thought hit, he knew he wouldn’t do it.
“Damn duty,” he muttered. Then louder to Daphne, “We need to get this jacket off. I can’t reach the wound like this.”
Daphne grasped the ripped fabric in both hands and pulled, tearing through the Siren’s jacket so they could peel it away from the wound. Three large claw marks ran in a diagonal pattern over the Siren’s shoulder and down past her collarbone.
“A daemon,” Daphne said, staring at the wound.
That was exactly what it looked like to Ari. And where there was one, there was always more. He shifted closer to the Siren, intent on getting this over and done with fast.
“How many?” Daphne asked the Siren. “And what happened to them?”
“Th-three,” the Siren answered. “We killed two. The third”—she cringed in pain and adjusted against the rock—“the third took...Rhebekah...into the woods.”
Daphne closed her eyes for a quick second, then opened them. “Was she alive?”
The Siren shook her head. “I...I don’t know.”
Two Sirens in the area, and he hadn’t sensed either. Ari didn’t know what the hell was going on, but when Daphne turned to look at him with pleading green eyes, he knew they were done wasting time.
He reached for the Siren’s shoulder. “Hold her still. This will hurt.”
The Siren tensed, but Ari laid his hands over her wound before she could jerk away again. Heat gathered beneath his palms, penetrating the wound and stitching it back together. A warm yellow glow radiated from below his fingers and palms. The Siren cried out as the heat and energy shot through her body, but Daphne held her down, preventing her from moving and disrupting the process. Seconds later, it was over, the wound sealed. The glow subsided, and Ari lifted his hands to check the result. Nothing but thin red lines remained on her skin.
“Will she live?” Daphne asked, looking at what he’d done.
Unfortunately for him, yes.
Knowing Daphne wouldn’t want to hear that, he pushed to his feet. “Her wounds weren’t nearly as bad as yours.” He glanced at the Siren. Her head was tipped against the rock, her damp hair stuck to her temple, her eyes half-lidded as she breathed through the remainder of the pain. “In an hour or so she should be fine.”
“Thank the gods,” Daphne breathed.
Ari didn’t thank the gods for anything. But as he studied Daphne’s profile, the strong jawline, small nose, and the determined chin, he remembered her horror last night at learning Zeus’s Sirens had destroyed her village and killed her parents. She, of all people, should want to see a Siren dead, but here she was, relieved that he’d saved one.
That icy space in his chest that had warmed and expanded because of her grew even wider, making his heart beat harder, making his fingers tingle with the urge to reach for her, to drag her close, to ask her what the hell she was doing to him. But he knew this wasn’t the time or the place, and he definitely didn’t want to have that conversation in front of his archenemy.
“Stay here.” He tugged off his jacket and laid it over the Siren. “I’m going to have a look around.”
He made it three steps away before Daphne’s hand captured his arm. Before he could ask what she wanted, she rose on her toes and pressed her cold lips against the scruff on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for helping her.”
She let go of him, knelt back by the Siren, pulled his jacked up to the Siren’s neck and whispered words Ari didn’t catch. And as he watched, that cold space deep inside heated until only warmth remained.
* * * *
“What the hell are you doing here?” Daphne whispered when Ari disappeared into the trees. “And what in Hades happened?”
Sappheire adjusted against the rocks, sitting more upright. “Athena sent us to find out what was taking you so long. We were looking for you.”
Unease filtered through Daphne’s belly. If Athena had sent Sappheire and Rhebekah, she could easily send more Sirens. She needed to think fast. “I hit a snag.”
“No shit,” Sappheire grunted. “What’s going on, Daphne? Why did he heal me? He has to know what I am.”
Daphne fixed the jacket over Sappheire’s bare shoulder then sank back on her heels. “He does. I could tell by the way he looked at you. But he’s not what you think.”
Sappheire’s brilliant blue eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand. He should have killed me already.”
Daphne brushed her hair over the shoulder of her jacket and braced her hands on her thighs. “He’s not crazy, Sappheire. Not like they want us to believe. They lied to us—Athena, Zeus, all of them. He’s not the monster they say he is. You’ve seen it for yourself.”
Sappheire’s eyes grew skeptical. “He’s got you under some kind of spell. What have you been do—”
Ari’s shout echoed through the trees, cutting off Sappheire’s words. Frustrated that Sappheire so easily believed the lies they’d been fed, Daphne whispered, “There’s no spell. I’ve simply opened my eyes.”
She turned toward the trees where Ari appeared, stomping through the snow.
“I found two dead daemons and a trail of blood.” He wiped his blade against his thigh, then sheathed it at his hip. “The third’s no longer a problem.” He looked down at Sappheire. “Your friend was dead by the time I got there. I’m sorry.”
Daphne’s
heart pinched as she looked back at Sappheire. Daphne hadn’t known Rhebekah long, but Rhebekah and Sappheire had been close. Emotions ran over Sappheire’s face as she glanced around the snowy forest, clearly not seeing any of it. “I...”
“Are you sure there were only three?” Ari asked.
Brow drawn low, Sappheire finally looked up. “Three?”
“Daemons. Did you see any others?”
“No.” Sappheire shook her head and swallowed hard. “No, only three. They surprised us. We heard voices over the ridge and went to look. It...it must have been them.”
Ari glanced toward Daphne. “Voices could mean more. I can handle a handful of daemons on my own, but not an entire horde, not with you both here, and not with fresh blood in the area. We need to go.”
Fear wrapped an icy hand around Daphne’s chest and squeezed. She remembered all too well the horror of being caught with those daemons. She pushed to her feet. “Can the snowmobile hold all three of us? I can—”
“I’m not going with you.”
Daphne’s gaze snapped to her mentor. “Of course you are. You can’t stay out here, especially if there are more daemons in the ar—”
“I’m not going with you,” Sappheire said again. “I know how to get home on my own.”
“But—”
“No buts.” Gritting her teeth, Sappheire pushed up to standing. Her arm hung limply against her side as she leaned back against the rocks, but it was clear Ari’s healing powers had worked. She looked past Daphne toward Ari at her back. “Thank you. For killing that last daemon. Where is she?”
Ari nodded toward the trees. “Fifty yards that way. You’ll see the rocks. She’s behind those.”
Sappheire eased away from the boulder and took a step past Daphne.
“Wait.” Panic pushed at Daphne’s chest. They couldn’t just leave Sappheire out here, not if there were more daemons in the area.
“I’m fine.” Sappheire pinned her with a hard look. “I’m getting Rhebekah and taking her home. Go, Daphne, before anything else appears.”
Before any other Sirens appear. Daphne heard the warning loud and clear. Sappheire was letting Ari go. But Daphne had no idea if the Siren meant to bring other Sirens back or if she’d tell Athena what she’d witnessed.
A new sense of urgency gripped Daphne. “She’s right.” She grabbed hold of Ari’s sleeve and pulled him toward the snowmobile. “We need to go.”
She picked up her helmet as they drew close, grabbed his and handed it to him. He was watching her curiously as she sat on the snowmobile and snapped her chinstrap, and she knew he was wondering what the hell had just happened, but she didn’t have an answer, and she didn’t want to get into it now. Now they just needed to put as much distance between them and this location as they could, in any direction.
“Come on,” she said when he only continued to stare at her. “I thought we were going.”
“She called you Daphne.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t remember saying your name in front of her. Do you know that Siren?”
Oh shit...
Daphne’s stomach drew tight as a drum, and her mind spun as she tried to think of an answer—any answer—that would make sense. But before she could latch on to one, Ari drew in a deep whiff through his nose and growled.
Startled, she looked up. And a new sense of fear consumed her.
His gaze was fixed on something far off in the trees. Every muscle in his body was tight and rigid. But more importantly, his eyes were no longer the mismatched green and blue she’d come to love. They were black. Deathly black, and one-hundred percent possessed.
“Sirens,” he growled in a low, unfamiliar voice.
Daphne lurched to her feet and glanced over her shoulder. Six females—six Sirens—emerged from the trees. They were dressed in knee-high boots, slim pants, and tight, sleeveless shirts. All carried the familiar bow and arrows from Olympus, and all were as gorgeous and built as Sappheire. But a tingle of unease spread down Daphne’s spine as she looked over the group. None of the females were familiar to Daphne, and she’d met every Siren on Olympus, even the newest recruits. More than that, though, the look in each of these Siren’s eyes was both dark and evil. And it was a look she’d never seen from any of her sisters.
“Something’s not right.” She reached for Ari’s forearm.
He pulled his gaze from the Sirens and looked down at her. And for a moment, the crazed, dark look faded and his eyes shifted back to their normal mismatched colors.
An arrow whirred through the air. Ari pulled Daphne off the snowmobile and shoved her to the snowy ground. Against her ear, he growled, “Stay down.”
Her heart beat hard. Another arrow whirred through the air. Ari jerked to his feet before she could grasp him, that crazed look darkening his eyes once more and twisting his features until she barely recognized him.
“Ari.” She reached out to draw him back to her. “Stop.”
But he was already was gone, racing toward the females she knew instinctively had never been her sisters.
Chapter Eight
Ari was in hell. Burning in the fires of Tartarus, unable to escape from the heat. He turned, kicked, punched out at the flames, but they snaked over his body and danced toward his face as if he hadn’t even moved.
He was going to die. Suffocate from the heat. From the smoke. And he deserved it after all the horrible things he’d done. After he’d left Daphne bloody and alone in those snowy woods. After he’d lost control and—
He bolted up, gasped in a breath, and stared into the flames across the room. A log rolled off the pile and sent a flutter of ash and sparks upward in the fireplace. Sweat slid down his temple and dripped along his spine as the crackle of wood echoed in the air, drowning out the sound of his heavy breaths, bringing consciousness slowly back into place.
His bedroom in the hold. He looked down at the soft bed, at the covers tangled around him. Kicking them free, he swung his legs over the side of the mattress, leaned forward, and dropped his face into his hands.
In. Out. He breathed deep as his heart rate slowly came down. He didn’t know how he’d gotten here or what had happened, but that was nothing new. Whenever he had one of his episodes, he couldn’t remember shit. All he knew for sure was that he was alive, he was naked except for a pair of boxers, and he was alone. But as soon as he closed his eyes, images flickered through his mind. The snowmobile. The Sirens. Arrows flying through the air. Daphne covered in blood, lying in the snow.
He jerked upright, walked across the room and back again so he didn’t completely lose it, and racked his brain, trying to remember what had happened. He could only see bits and pieces, not the entire scene, and his mind kept tripping over Daphne in the snow, blood staining her hands and shirt and pants, reaching out for him, telling him...
He stopped. His brow dropped low. Telling him what?
“Ari, stop.”
Her voice echoed in his head, the sound of her plea squeezing his chest so hard pain radiated outward from the spot. She’d been telling him to stop. To stop hurting her.
Bile slid up his throat. The walls closed in until he could barely breathe. Glancing quickly around the room, he spotted a pair of sweats he’d left on the chair days ago. With hands that shook so hard they barely worked, he pulled them on, needing air, needing to breathe, needing to run until the pain of disgust and regret loosened its hold.
He flung his bedroom door open, stumbled down the hall toward the great room and the wide deck beyond. Darkness pressed in through the tall windows. He had no idea what time it was, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was freedom. All he heard was Daphne’s voice, echoing in his head.
“Ari, stop...”
“Oh my gods, that’s it. That’s...holy Hades, that’s it.”
His feet slowed just past the open library door. The first words had definitely come from his mind. A memory from the snowy forest. But the second...
He moved back to the library door and peered ins
ide. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and in the middle of the floor, surrounded by books and notebooks, a slim female with dark, curly hair hanging past her shoulders sat cross-legged and scribbled on a piece of paper.
“Daphne?” he whispered.
Her head came up, and when her gaze met his, her green eyes twinkled. “Oh, you’re awake. Good. There’s something I want to talk to you abou—”
She wasn’t covered in blood. She wasn’t lying dead in the snow. Heart in his throat, Ari crossed the floor in three steps, grasped her at the shoulders and hauled her to her feet. The notebook and pen flew from her fingers. She yelped but he didn’t let it deter him. He closed his arms around her and held her tight.
“Um. Okay.” Her arms shifted around his back until they rested softly against his bare skin. “I guess that means you’re happy to see me.”
Relief was sweeter than any wine. He closed his eyes, breathed her in. Reveled in the fact she was whole, alive, not a single hair on her head out of place. And that she was here. With him. Waiting for him to come out of his nightmare.
He eased back, but he didn’t let go of her. Wasn’t ready yet. His gaze searched her face for answers. “How?” He drew away just enough so he could look down her body, so he could see for himself that she wasn’t injured. Dressed in nothing but one of his long-sleeved T-shirts, the hem hitting mid-thigh to show off her shapely legs, she didn’t just look healthy, she looked perfect. His gaze lifted back to her face. “What happened? The last thing I remember is seeing you bloody and hurt in the snow.”
“I wasn’t hurt.” She slid her hands to his forearms, over the Argonaut markings he’d been born with. “That wasn’t my blood. It was Sappheire’s.”
“Sappheire?” His brow wrinkled. “Who the hell is Sappheire?”
“The Siren you healed. She’s upstairs. In my old room. Asleep.”
A Siren was in his hold? He tuned into his senses. Didn’t pick up a thing. If a Siren was close, he should know. He should be flipping out already.
Daphne’s soft fingers landed on his jaw, tugging his face back toward hers. “Ari, you’re not crazy. It’s a curse. It’s not your fault.”