Under (Titans, #0)

by Lazu, Sotia

  “Take your time. I’ll take Buffy home, hose him down, and start up the coffee maker. Come find us when you’re ready.”

  Washing the sand off her hair in the shallow water without getting fully submerged wasn’t easy, so she went deep, turned into her true self, and then back to human form, and put on the panties on her way out. The cool sand clung to her feet with every step, as if meaning to keep her from her destiny. Was the whole world against her doing what was right?

  She climbed the stairs to Antony’s porch and knocked on the white door.

  “Come right in,” he yelled from the other side.

  She called back, “I’m dripping. I’ll make a mess.”

  Antony threw open the door and waved off her concern. “Do you think I fly to the bathroom from the beach?” He pointed at one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter. “Make yourself at home. Unless you want to take a shower first? I can get you dry clothes.” He looked horrified. “I’m being cute again, aren’t I?”

  Halie laughed, and she didn’t even have to try. Anthony made her feel comfortable. She tiptoed her way in, careful not to make too much of a mess. “I’ll take you up on all of that,” she said.

  She showered quickly and pulled on the T-shirt and shorts he left out for her. She was happily surprised that he made no effort to see her naked but waited for her in the kitchen with two steaming cups of coffee.

  “How do you take yours?” he asked.

  “With six sugars, please.” Immortality had its perks, including a metabolism that allowed her to eat anything she wished.

  He arched both eyebrows, but didn’t comment before sweetening her cup and handing it over.

  “You’re the first person ever not to say something about how bad white sugar is for you.”

  He ducked his head, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I was trying to come up with a joke about how drinking a lot of sugar must be why you’re so sweet, but it would sound lame.”

  She laughed again. “It really would.”

  “I know, right? I’m glad I didn’t say anything stupid.” He grinned.

  Maybe this would work.

  Chapter Eleven - Delphinos

  Instead of waiting for Palaemon outside the castle, Delphinos paced the corridor by the council room, where he could count the distance from one wall to the other in strides. Several times over.

  Truth be told, Delphinos should be in there now with the other generals, talking strategy. Nereus only called for meetings in the council room when there was a threat to the sea world. If there was such a threat, it involved Delphinos too—and someone who could morph into an island-sized octopus ought to be of some use in a war scenario.

  When he knocked and tried to join them, though, Nereus told him his responsibility was to Halie for the time being. And wasn’t that funny? Delphinos believed the same, until she up and left with the help of a different daimon.

  When Palaemon exited the double doors, his face looked haunted.

  “What happened? Is it Halie?” Despite his anger at her desertion, Delphinos couldn’t bite back the concern.

  Palaemon gave him an incredulous look and threw his hands in the air. “It would have to be about her, wouldn’t it? Not like there’s another matter of importance under the sea.”

  Delphinos was about to protest, but Palaemon cut him off. “I took her to Los Angeles. I’ll show you exactly where when we’re in the water.” He led the way outside the bubble and projected a map into Delphinos’ mind. “Now, can the two of you please sort things out, so we can focus on dealing with the Titans?”

  That stopped Delphinos short. “Titans?” What the Cerberus? The Titans hadn’t been heard of in millennia. People thought they were dead. Delphinos certainly did. They’d been locked away in the darkest depths of the ancient Greeks’ version of hell. When the Olympians faded away, their world—including Tartarus and the Elysian Fields—was considered lost, except for the sea folk and daimons who served Vythos.

  Palaemon’s face took on a green hue. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it.”

  Delphinos arched an eyebrow.

  “It is not imminent, but the medusas have informed us the drilling for oil in the Aegean is waking them up,” Palaemon said with a huff. “We don’t know if they’ll head our way or whether they’ll even be looking for trouble, but something tells me spending millennia in Tartarus won’t have made them very friendly.”

  “What can I do?” Delphinos might be heartsick, but he wasn’t stupid. This took priority over his love life.

  “Nothing for now. Nereus wants us all alert. At the first sight of one of them, we’re supposed to inform him.”

  Lovely. An underwater war was all the planet needed. “So...”

  “So go to Halie. And try not to endanger an entire species.”

  Easier said than done, but it was good to have at least one ally.

  Delphinos focused on the location Palaemon had shown him and swatted the sea with his tail. He might not have to swim the whole way from Pylos to L.A., but he still had to cover some distance before and after he teleported to the right waters, and this half-man, half-fish form was not nearly fast enough.

  He closed his eyes and called to mind the shape of a dolphin. He’d much rather go for a shark, but he didn’t want anyone to panic when he surfaced. A split second later, his arms turned into fins, and his merman shape gave way to the sleek, elegant body of the animal named after him. He glided through the sea with grace and speed, miles condensing into a few strokes of his tail, until the temperature of the water around him dropped. He angled upward, and soon found himself looking up at the L.A. evening sky. The sun hadn’t set long ago, and the air was still warm. He’d love to play with the waves, but there was no time for that.

  Halie would show up any minute now, to ask for the usual bubble of clothes and documents he brought with him the first night he checked in on her with a potential suitor. This time, she wasn’t staying, though. He’d convince her to return under, with him.

  The darkness deepened minute by minute, and he perked up when a door opened and someone came out of the house at the end of the beach.

  A man and a dog exited, snuffing out his hope.

  Delphinos sought Halie’s mind with his. No answer—not that he expected one, since she now presented as human. When the coast cleared, he changed into a man and stalked naked along the waterline, careful to stay away from any light. The night was quiet, except for the swashing of the waves, but when he listened closely, he heard her tinkling laughter.

  Did she find the male meant to make her happy? Was she with him now? Giving herself to him?

  Delphinos shook the thought away, returned to the sea, and swam until his arms hurt. His hearts threatened to jump out of his ribcage with the pain of her loss. There was only one thing left to do.

  With a determined couple of strokes, he transported himself not back to Vythos, but to the waters around the witch’s secret island. He squared his shoulders and made his way to shore on foot, unashamed by his nakedness. There were no humans around here, to be offended.

  The witch appeared in front of him as if out of thin air, before he’d made it halfway to the forest that surrounded her palace. “I was waiting for you, daimon.” She shook her white hair, and before his eyes turned into the same curvy, gorgeous brunette, who bewitched the great Odysseus when he was trying to make it home. Her breasts pushed proudly at the fabric of her tunic, and a slit in the front left bare one of her long legs up to her golden thigh. “What is it you wish for?” she asked in a melodious voice.

  Delphinos was unaffected by her beauty. He knew the stories surrounding her, and returned his gaze on her face, now unlined and rosy cheeked. “If you knew I was coming, you should know that too.” He glared, but her sea-blue eyes betrayed only mirth. And she was definitely not blind.

  “You’re in pain.” She approached him and ran her finger up his arm, from the crook of his elbow to his shoulder. “I’ve been there. I’v
e had my heart torn from my chest.” She moved behind him and flipped his hair out of the way, to press her thumbs into the knotted muscles of his neck.

  “Then you know not to mock a man who feels like his life has ended.” Delphinos tensed and stepped away from her touch.

  Circe’s laugh sounded so similar to Halie’s that Delphinos spun on his heel.

  His hearts beat faster when he saw the woman before him was none other than Halie herself, smiling at him. “This isn’t real.” But even as he told himself it was another of the witch’s tricks, his body ached to reach for her.

  “Touch me and see how real I am. I can be whoever you want me to be.” Circe’s voice came from Halie’s full lips, making him snarl. “Tell me what you wish for. Do you want to enjoy this body every day”—she skated her palms down her sides and back up, raising her sheath and baring more of Halie’s pale flesh—“or do you want me to make you forget her? You know I can.”

  She tossed back her hair and returned to her previous form. Not a stitch of clothing covered her honey-golden skin, and her long chestnut curls reached the small of her back. Her heavy breasts looked like twin offerings above her flat stomach and the curve of her hips.

  “What do you wish for? Ask, and it shall be yours,” she purred, jutting her hips forward.

  Delphinos ignored her display. He wasn’t interested in the witch. “Halie. I want Halie,” he said. “I’m not asking you to give her to me. I know she’s supposed to be mine.”

  Circe arched both brows and turned her back to him, her perfect buttocks barely visible under her dark mane as she walked away.

  “Wait,” Delphinos called after her. He lowered his voice. “Can’t you be wrong about the prophecy?”

  The witch swirled toward him one more time, her form rippling in the air like the reflection of the moon did on the water beside him—when did they return to the shore? “I’m never wrong, daimon.”

  “She can’t be happy without me. She belongs by my side.”

  The witch smiled and grew in size, and her face sweetened and aged at the same time, until a motherly figure looked down upon him. “What are you willing to do for that?”

  “Anything. I’ll kill and die before I let your words to Nereus tear us apart. Consider this a warning.” No more waiting. He’d done more waiting these past few days than in the ages that preceded them. It was time to act.

  A blinding light made him squeeze his eyes shut.

  “Open your eyes, child. Men who don’t see what’s in front of them tend to stumble.” Circe’s voice came from all around him, but when he looked, she was nowhere to be seen.

  “I won’t let her go, Vythos be damned,” he yelled at the sky.

  The witch laughed again, her voice a breeze that pushed him into the sea. “Do your best, daimon.”

  Chapter Twelve - Halie

  Halie yawned. Made sense. The sun set a couple hours ago, and though she hadn’t been awake too long, her body was adjusting to the local time. Anthony was clearly interested in finding out more about her, though. She appreciated it, but she never before had to put so much thought into her backstory.

  Where was she from?

  This was easy—Greece. She came here with a work visa.

  How long ago? Had she only been to L.A.? Which part?

  She mucked her way through things, hoping he didn’t notice her scrambling for answers.

  Was she an only child?

  No, she had fif—five sisters and a brother.

  “Big family.” Anthony had given her a sad smile. “You must really miss them.”

  Not yet, and not for long, but she settled for a noncommittal shrug. She tried to change the subject to him, but it didn’t last long.

  “So what did you do? Before you were... downsized?” he asked.

  The word took a couple agonizing seconds to click into place. What was it Mario—the guy she dated before Joss—did? “Data analyst.”

  “Wow. Sounds difficult.”

  Before he could ask more, she said, “What do you do?”

  He ducked his head, but she caught his shy smile. Adorable. “I’m an artist. I paint,” he said.

  “Maybe you could paint me one day.” And maybe he could talk some more about himself and stop with the questions.

  “I’d love that. Are you staying in the area? Can I see you again?”

  Now they were talking.

  “Is this my cue to go?” she asked coyly.

  “No. Of course not. Stay. I can show you my studio, if you want.”

  Surprisingly, after what she’d experienced with human males this past century, that wasn’t a euphemism for his penis. Anthony led her down the blond-wood corridor that opened to the living room on the left, and into a large room awash in moonlight. He flipped a switch, and she blinked against the light. Bright-colored paintings leaned against almost every available vertical surface, some packed together, except for the wall across from them, which consisted of two sliding glass panes. An easel stood in the far right corner of the room, ready with a blank canvas panel, a table covered with jars and cans of paint beside it. The purple velvet sofa facing it looked well worn and comfy. Unlike the rest of the house, which was white, with clean, sharp lines, this room was cluttered and messy and vibrant with life.

  “It’s been a couple months since my last piece.” Anthony sounded apologetic. “I haven’t felt inspired.”

  Halie knew nothing about art, much to Mother’s chagrin, but the images on the canvases around her were hauntingly beautiful. “I hope your Muse cooperates soon.”

  He arched a blond eyebrow, one corner of his mouth tugging upward. “I think she just might.”

  And if she could stop thinking of Delphinos, Halie just might offer to help him.

  They returned to the kitchen, and she asked about his art, and he asked about her favorite food, and they kept jumping from one subject to the other, until her stomach rumbled.

  “I should go. I skipped a couple meals, and I need to feed the beast”—she pointed at her belly—“and find a place to spend the night.” The story she usually went with was that she was fired, had just moved to town, and was staying at a hotel. The witch took care of the booking and sent her details, clothes, and everything else she’d need with Delphinos. Of course, now Halie would rather avoid him, so she had taken her disaster story a step further. Like say she was living out of her car.

  Not that it mattered, because now he’d offer her a late dinner and then ask if she wanted to stay the night.

  “If you’re hungry, I could whip something up.”

  Yup.

  She pretended to consider it, then made her best to sound regretful, as she said, “I don’t want to impose more than I already have. Maybe in a couple days, when I return the clothes to you?”

  He didn’t insist, which matched what she’d gleaned of his character. “Let me at least walk you to your car?” he said.

  “Sure.” Uh oh. She had no idea which way the main road was, or if parking was allowed there. She had no idea what lay beyond the beach and line of houses—period. Luckily, after a few decades of dating, she knew how to distract a guy. She held out her hand and waggled her fingers. “Lead the way?”

  He glanced at her hand, and then closed his warm palm around it with a grin. When she pulled him toward the kitchen door, he said, “Let’s go through the garage. It’s closer.”

  So he had some inkling where her car should be. Thank Poseidon.

  Anthony took her down the corridor again, through a door to the right, and out the open garage door.

  “You’re not very safety oriented, huh? Leaving everything unlocked?” Halie said in a teasing tone.

  He shrugged. “I have nothing to steal, and this is a safe neighborhood.”

  Which would make this next part more difficult.

  They made their way to the street side by side, and when she saw a series of parked cars under the street lights, she let go of him and covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh my
God. Where’s my car?” She looked from right to left, hoping she wasn’t overdoing it with the drama. “My car’s gone. Everything I own was in there—my phone, my clothes, all my money... God.” Praying he wouldn’t think to ask about her visa, she let out a choked sob and hunched her shoulders. If he wrapped his arms around her, she was set. Men loved consoling women. It made them feel important.

  “I’m calling 911,” Anthony said behind her.

  She twirled his way. “No. No police.” They’d find no record of her, and she refused to get locked up until Vythos was erased from her mind. And since she couldn’t tell Anthony that— “My ex... He’s violent. He’s a cop. If I appear on the system, he’ll find me.” She squeezed out a tear, and sighed with relief when Antony gathered her close.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered in her hair. “I’ll help you. You can stay with me until you get things sorted out.”

  “Thank you. You’re so nice.” Everything was going according to plan. And Halie felt as slimy as a Hagfish. Anthony was lovely, yet she lied and took advantage of him.

  But she meant well. This way, they’d get their chance for a happily ever after.

  They returned home, and he made her a vegetarian stir-fry, and they exchanged childhood stories—hers with a few tweaks so it wasn’t obvious she was a child before the Parthenon was built—and laughed at silly things until well after midnight. Anthony asked if she wanted to join him when he walked Buffy, before they turned in, but Delphinos would be waiting for her, and there was no convincing herself she wouldn’t run back to him.

  “It’s chilly, and I don’t even have a jacket,” she said.

  He looked pointedly at her bare feet. “Or shoes. Tomorrow, we’re going shopping.”

  “I couldn’t...” But she had to, unless she wanted to face an upset daimon who loved her and whom she couldn’t live without.

  No. She could, and she would. And she’d make the best of it.