Devoted to Destiny

by Lisa Kessler

  Mikolas sat back in his chair. “I thought I made myself clear. I won’t do anything that will bring the police knocking on our door. If the Order is exposed, the offshore drilling for Tartarus is over.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “As I explained to Ted, you two are only alive because you can help me. If you refuse, then you become a liability instead of an asset.”

  Mikolas crossed his arms, glancing at Ted and then back to Pamela. “If, and this is only if, I was willing to get involved in this plan of yours, what would you expect of us?”

  “The Muse of Music is living alone right now. It should be easy enough for her to have an ‘accident.’”

  Ted struggled to keep his expression neutral. Pamela had just put a target on Trinity’s back. He had to do something, but short of finding her Guardian for her, he wasn’t sure how to protect her. If Ted didn’t bend to Pamela’s wishes, she’d kill him.

  “What about the Muse of Dance?” Ted kept his voice even. If Pamela suspected he was trying to save Trinity, things would go south fast. “Before he was arrested, our enforcer had been tracking her. She lives alone, and she doesn’t seem to hang out with the rest of them as much. She’d make an easier target.”

  Pamela looked at Mikolas. “Do you agree?”

  He shrugged. “I think your obsession with killing these women to punish Zeus is going to end up blowing up in our faces and Tartarus will never be opened.”

  Power rippled off her like waves of electricity. Ted stood up, hoping to avoid ending up paralyzed on the floor. “If you want our help, we need something from you, too.”

  She raised a brow. “And what’s that?”

  “Your word in writing that once Kronos is freed, you will persuade him to bring back the Golden Age of Man.”

  A twisted smile curved one side of her swollen mouth. “You’ve finally realized that he’ll be more powerful than any being on this planet.” She let out a mirthless chuckle. “I can ask him, but if he chooses to destroy this world, no one will be able to stop him.”

  “Then you have nothing to lose by signing the document, right?”

  She flipped her hand. “I’ll sign. But I expect results.”

  Mikolas leaned forward, his forearms resting on his legs. “This Guardian you’re after must be pretty powerful to do this much damage to an immortal.”

  She stood up, looking down her nose at both of them. “He’s no match for me, even with his inhuman strength. He surprised me, but it won’t happen again.” She went to the door. “Keep me informed. The Muse of Dance should be dead the next time I see you.”

  And with that, Pamela walked out, closing the door behind her. Ted waited a few moments before he whispered, “I need to talk to you about Trinity.”

  “Which one is she?”

  “The Muse of Music.” Ted looked down at his hands and slowly lifted his head. “She’s the only woman I have ever loved.”

  Mason carried the last box into Clio’s new room at Trinity’s place. Clio looked up from her bed and smiled. “Thanks for all your help today.”

  He set the load down, admiring her beauty. The red-rimmed glasses suited her. “You don’t have to thank me, but you could let me buy you dinner.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “I’d love that. And there’s something I want to show you.”

  He chuckled, rolling a kink out of his shoulder. “I’m good with that. Can I grab a shower and change first?”

  “Sorry. I might have head trauma, remember? You can’t leave me alone.” She bit her lower lip, hiding a grin. “You promised the doctor.”

  He came over and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. “I could bring you with me.”

  “To your place?” Her voice rose at the end in mock innocence.

  “Better keep polishing that halo.” Mason laughed harder than he had in a long time. Damn, it felt good.

  She finally cracked, unable to hold back her own giggle. The sound tugged at his heart.

  “I never claimed to be the Muse of Brilliant Acting.” Her laughter died off, but the joy in her eyes remained. “I am curious to see where you live. I’ve known you for a few months but just from the jobsite. I don’t really know you.”

  “Well…” He took her hand, marveling at the softness of her skin against his calloused fingers. “It’s not a palace, but it’s coming together.”

  “Coming together as in…you’re building a house?”

  “No.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “But ever since I started tracking Pamela, I’ve ended up in different cities and picked up foreclosures and fixer-uppers. I renovate them while I’m in town and then sell them when it’s time to move on. That’s how I can afford to keep chasing her.”

  She studied him—for what he had no idea. Finally, she squeezed his hand. “Let me text Trinity, and then I’d love to go see your place.”

  He let go of her hand, and she got up to grab her phone. He watched her every move, cataloging the way she still favored her right ankle and the way her ass wiggled in her jeans.

  A smile teased the corner of his mouth. He’d spent many hours rebuilding the theater, and the times she’d been there, he’d never noticed her hips having such a sexy sway. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was toying with him.

  She came back to him with her phone in hand. “Ready?”

  Oh hell yeah, he was ready.

  Mikolas stared at his shoes, shaking his head. “You have got to be kidding me.” He lifted his head, pinning Ted with his gaze. “Your father told us you were the one who gathered the women’s names, the vessels for the muses for this generation. Was he lying?”

  A few weeks ago, Ted would’ve been proud to take the credit for leading the Order to the muses, but ever since Trinity had confronted him and he’d stared into her eyes, he wanted to crawl under a rock.

  “No. It was me.”

  Mikolas straightened up in his chair and crossed his arms. “You know, when I first arrived here, I thought you were a piece of shit, but damn, I underestimated you.”

  Ted didn’t waste his breath trying to defend himself. What was the point? There was no defense for his treachery against Trinity. Not anymore.

  He cleared his throat. “Trinity and I met in college. I was smitten with this girl who could sing an aria that gave you goose bumps and then the next day, play her own compositions on guitar at the coffee shop.” He shook his head, hating himself all over again. “Right after our one-year anniversary, she started having these weird dreams. At first, I thought she was cracking under the pressure of her classes. But when she mentioned seeing Greece and described Euterpe—I knew more about the muses than she did back then—I suspected she could be one of the muses my father’s Order had been searching for. Trinity was a vessel for the Muse of Music.”

  “And instead of helping her, you marked her for death?”

  Ted bristled. “It wasn’t like that. At the time, I thought my father would just make sure their theater never opened. I wanted his praise, and I got it. For once in my life, he was proud of me.” Ted sighed, focusing on his desk. “I convinced myself I was making a sacrifice for the greater good.” He looked at Mikolas. “After the fire, she contacted me. Seeing her again, hearing about her friends that we killed…”

  He swallowed the bitter lump in his throat. “It reminded me of who I used to be when I was with her. I locked the chains on the theater doors myself, almost…” He choked on the words and shook his head. “I can’t change what I’ve done, but I won’t let Pamela kill her.”

  Mikolas narrowed his eyes, his gaze boring into Ted. “We took a blood oath to work together to stop Pamela. But I’m giving you my word right now that I’ll stand with you. No more muses will die. Not if I can help it.”

  Ted opened his mouth to reply, but words escaped him. He spent most of his life in prep schools filled with guys who were happy to step on your throat to get ahead. He’d never really had a friend he could count on.

  “I tried to frame you for murder to get you out o
f the Order,” Ted admitted. “Why would you help me now?”

  Mikolas stood, his profile like chiseled marble. “Because I was born with a Guardian’s mark.”

  Mason drove up a winding road overlooking Crystal City Cove. Clio had a great view on either side: to her right, the expanse of the Pacific Ocean smashing into the cliffs, and to the left, Mason’s strong hands on the wheel of his truck.

  The moment before Pamela had found her on the pier, Clio had sent up a wish to the heavens, and it had turned out Mason had been their plan for her all along. Her gaze wandered down from his face to his broad shoulders to his tanned, chiseled biceps.

  “You’re awfully quiet.”

  Her head snapped the other way, heat creeping up into her cheeks as she focused on the ocean below. “Just waiting for all of this to sink in.”

  “Oh.” He chuckled. “I was hoping you were staring at me because you liked what you saw.”

  Clio grinned, shaking her head. “I thought you were concentrating on the road.”

  He pulled into a cobblestone driveway. The truck vibrated as they rumbled over the uneven surface. When he stopped in front of a cottage, he turned off the engine and met her eyes. “I have a hard time concentrating on anything but you when you’re around.”

  Her heart pounded. “No one’s ever had that problem around me before.”

  “I call bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me since the day we met.”

  Her jaw dropped. “I always notice you. Why do you think I’m at the theater site so often?”

  He reached over to run a finger along her jawline. “You’re beautiful, Clio. But you’re so busy with your books and reading about the past, you must not notice the effect you have on everyone in the present.”

  “I don’t know about that.” She slid her glasses farther up her nose as he lowered his hand. “But I’m glad you think so.”

  He tipped his head toward the house. “Want a tour?”

  She looked at the house and grinned. “This is one of the original Cove cottages, isn’t it?”

  “Good eye.” He stared at the single-story bungalow. “I got a great deal from a builder. He was going to tear it down to the foundation and build a new house, but the historical society got involved and blocked the project.”

  She stepped out of the truck for a closer look. The wooden siding was a sandy color, with forest green shutters and trim. “And they’re not hassling you about renovations?”

  “I’m restoring it to its 1925 glory. They love me.”

  She smiled. Who wouldn’t love Mason? “Well, it looks great from out here.”

  “Thanks.” He took her hand. The simple touch filled her with warmth. Her hand in his seemed natural, a perfect fit. “Come on. I’ll show you around. The deck out back is my pride and joy.”

  He unlocked the front door, and Clio stepped inside, gasping at the view through the oversized picture window. “You can see the entire cove.”

  “Just about.” He led her across the hardwood floor to a pair of French doors that opened onto a redwood deck. She went outside, the wind tugging at her hair. Not a single cloud hung in the fathomless blue sky. The sun warmed her skin as she crossed to the railing, taking in the spectacular cliffs leading to the crashing waves below.

  When she turned, Mason wasn’t paying attention to the sky or the shore. He was focused solely on her. His lips curved into a gentle smile. “This deck has never looked so beautiful.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I bet the sunsets out here are stunning.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged. “I usually don’t get back here until the sun’s already down.”

  She glanced his way. He rested his forearms on the railing, the wind toying with his hair, too. “Thank you for all your work on the theater. I know you’re getting paid, but I don’t know if we’ve thanked you. I’ve never met a harder working contractor.”

  His attention stayed on the horizon. “Once I realized Pamela didn’t want it to open, there’s nothing I wanted more than to see it finished.”

  Clio bit her bottom lip to keep from pressing the subject. Pamela had waved her hand in Clio’s direction and somehow paralyzed her. And apparently, she’d done the same to Mason’s cousin. Plus, she was immortal. How exactly did you stop an immortal with that kind of power?

  The thought of Mason being at Pamela’s mercy terrified Clio. Anxious to think about something else, she turned around and pointed at the house. “When do I get to see the rest of the place?”

  Mason straightened up, his expression brightening. “How about now?” He headed for the door and stopped to let her in first. “You wanted to show me something, too, right? Do I need to hurry?”

  She glanced at the horizon and shook her head. “It’s better at sunset anyway.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Ted shook Kevin’s hand, struggling to see past the façade that he wore like his well-fitted suit. Mikolas had been right. Looking at him, he was a seventy-something older man, but his handshake and the glint in his eyes hinted at something more.

  “Thanks for coming in,” Ted said. “Mikolas will be down in a few minutes.”

  Kevin took off his coat and laid it on the back of the chair before taking his seat. “I admit I’m intrigued. After our dinner the other night, it seemed apparent that Mr. Leandros didn’t want to discuss the Order.” He tipped his head, a hint of a smile on his face. “At least not with me.”

  “There have been some developments that have warmed him to the idea. I’m hoping you can help us with a…situation.”

  His silver brows arched. “I’m going to earn my way into the Order of the Titans?”

  Before Ted could come up with an answer, the door opened. Mikolas entered, and Kevin started to stand back up.

  Mikolas crossed to him and offered his hand. “No need to get up, Mr. Elys.”

  “Call me Kevin.” He shook Mikolas’s hand. “I understand I might be of assistance to you?”

  Mikolas glanced at Ted and back to Kevin. “I hope so.” He sat down, his expression grim. “Ted mentioned you were extremely knowledgeable when it comes to Greek mythology.”

  Kevin chuckled, but he didn’t deny it. “Is there something you can’t look up on your Internet?”

  “Humanity as a whole considers mythology to be folktales.” Mikolas opened his hands. “The gods have become fictional characters in this world.”

  Kevin drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I’m aware.”

  Ted leaned against the edge of his desk. “I’ve met someone who proves that theory wrong.” All eyes were on him. “There are photos of a woman in my father’s files that are sixty years old, but this woman hasn’t aged a day since then.”

  Kevin smirked. “Is her beauty a problem?”

  Ted stared at Kevin for a second. He’d never seen this side of him. Was he…annoyed? “No, but she’s a loose cannon. If she exposes the Order, we’ll never be able to free Kronos from Tartarus.”

  Mikolas shot him a glare, silencing him. He turned to Kevin. “I’m not sure how much Ted has told you about the Order, but we honor the Titans as protectors of mankind.”

  Kevin looked at each of them and finally rested back in his chair. “I share this belief, yet you hesitate to accept me into your Order.”

  Mikolas shrugged. “Until I can get this situation controlled, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  “As I see it, if you need my help, you’re going to have to trust me.” Kevin crossed his arms. “The choice is yours.”

  Mikolas stood. “An immortal walks among us. I’ve read everything I can and while I’ve found mentions of her, I can’t find a weakness.”

  Kevin glanced at Ted. “Do you know her true identity?”

  Ted nodded slowly. “Her real name is Philyra.”

  For a split second, Ted caught a flash of recognition on Kevin’s face, but it was gone so fast, he was already doubting what he’d seen.

  Kevin got up from his
chair. “She has a weakness.”

  Mikolas turned his full attention to their guest. “We have the capital to get whatever we need.”

  “Money won’t help you, I’m afraid.” He chuckled. “You’ll have to find Rhea.”

  “Rhea?” Ted frowned. “As in the wife of Kronos and Mother of the Gods? No one has seen her since the gods retreated from this world.”

  Kevin tipped his head. “Ah, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t here. She just doesn’t wish to be found.” He walked to the door.

  “Wait.” Mikolas followed. “I thought you were going to help us.”

  “Let me know when you find Rhea.” Kevin peered over his shoulder. “Until then, there’s no way to stop Philyra.”

  Without another word, Kevin left the office.

  After the tour of the two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the cozy kitchen, Mason went to take a shower and Clio pulled out her phone. She pressed Callie’s name. The Muse of Epic Poetry resided inside Callie’s five-foot-tall, Tinkerbell body. Her size was no reflection of her fiery personality or her commitment to their mission, though. She was their leader on their quest for inspiration, and now that they had another Guardian on their team, Callie needed to know.

  In her day job, she was a well-respected psychologist specializing in treating PTSD, which had come in handy more than once since the Order of the Titans had begun targeting them.

  “Hey, Clio. What’s up?”

  Clio glanced down the hallway toward the bedroom. She could hear the shower beating down and tried not to imagine Mason naked.

  Too late.

  She bit her lower lip. “Have you talked to Trinity?”

  “Yeah, she told me you were moving in to her place today, right? How are you feeling? You didn’t overdo it, did you?”

  “No. Mason did most of the work.” She grinned, grateful no one could see her. “He’s my Guardian.”

  “Seriously?” Callie clucked her tongue. “That’s how he broke down the door of the theater. I should’ve guessed.”