Tempted (23 page)

“I won’t,” he said calmly. The fire in her dark eyes was something he hadn’t seen before. Even yesterday when she pulled the sword on him in the Hall of Heroes, there’d been a softness there, a vulnerability. Now, thanks to him, that was long gone. “Think carefully about this, though.”

“About cutting you? I don’t have to. If you ever touch me again there will be blood. And this time it won’t be your choice, it’ll be mine.”

He didn’t doubt that for a minute.

She lowered the dagger and moved one step down into the tunnel. The light was now gone and nothing but blackness beckoned, but Gryphon couldn’t be far ahead.

“Isadora,” he said quickly, panic pushing in before she disappeared. “I didn’t mean about me. I meant about Gryphon. He isn’t—” He stopped himself, unsure what the hell to say. Was he overreacting? Or was he simply jealous she so easily trusted Gryphon when she now hated him?

He didn’t want to face that realization, so he went with his gut. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”

She glanced back over her shoulder. But her eyes were just as hard and cold as they’d been before, when she’d held the dagger to his side, not the soft chocolate brown he’d looked into as they’d made love. “And sometimes they are. I’ve learned that the hard way. You made sure of it.”

She moved down into the darkness, turned the corner, and was gone.

Alone, his heart thumped hard. In his attempt to protect her from himself, he’d done what he’d set out to do. He’d finally broken her. And as a result he’d turned her into someone who was as cold and unfeeling and hopeless as he was.

Regret and a need to make amends pushed him forward with a fierce determination. He stepped toward the opening, but instead of moving down into the darkness himself, his body hit an invisible shield with a crack that stole his breath and knocked him back to the ground.

What
the…?

“Gryphon?” Isadora called from inside the tunnel.

Demetrius rushed to his feet, tried again, met nothing but a wall of air as strong as granite.

“Isadora!” He slammed his hands against the force.

“Gryphon?” Isadora called again. Realizing he could hear her as clearly as if she were beside him, Demetrius stopped fighting, placed his hands on the invisible wall, and listened. “Where are you?”

“I’m here, Princess.”

“I can’t see you,” she called.

“Oh, you will,” Gryphon replied with a chuckle. “Come closer and I will light the way.”

A scraping sound echoed, like metal against rock, and Demetrius imagined the dagger on Isadora’s hip hitting the narrow passageway. His chest grew tight. The scraping eventually died down, and he heard Isadora’s voice again.

“Where…where are we?”

“In the main chamber. Where it will begin.”

Begin?
Oh, shit.
Demetrius’s anxiety pushed higher.

“Why can’t I see you?” she asked. “I thought you had a torch.”

“Oh, you’ll see me, Princess. Very soon you will see all of me. In my true form, as you did before. Even though you are no longer a virgin, you are still of great use to me.”

The dead voice, the too-blue eyes, and the hunch in Demetrius’s gut all finally coalesced. And even before the blue glow erupted from the tunnel to spill out the archway and illuminate every stone and pebble, Demetrius knew he’d been right.

Isadora gasped. “Oh, gods.”

“Not a god,” Apophis said with that same menacing chuckle that belonged to Gryphon. “Not yet. But with your help, Hora, I will be soon.”

Chapter 18

Isadora swallowed hard as she stared at the blue glow coming from Gryphon’s eyes. Her situation had just tanked. Big time.

No, not Gryphon’s eyes. Whatever was
inside
Gryphon was definitely not Argonaut. Or Argolean. Or even human for that matter. It was…evil.

“I told you that you hadn’t seen the last of me.”

Apophis.

Panic jumped to heart-thumping fear. Isadora had no idea how the warlock had taken Gryphon’s body, but she wasn’t about to ask. She darted a look back down the darkened tunnel.

“Oh, your guardian won’t be joining us,” Apophis said in that same flat voice that sounded like Gryphon but wasn’t. He took one menacing step closer, drawing her attention back his way. “Your escape from Thrace Castle was disappointing, but even I must admit…it brought other, more interesting opportunities to light.”

He reached inside his crisp white shirt and drew out the medallion hanging on a chain around his neck.

The Orb of Krónos.

Oh, shit.
The round medallion was as big as a man’s palm, with four empty chambers and the sign of the Titans stamped into the center of the metal. She looked into Gryphon’s—Apophis’s—eyes. In that moment, everything made sense. And in that moment, mythological monsters, daemons, and even Atalanta were the least of Isadora’s worries.

The Titans were the ruling gods before the Olympians. When Zeus and his brothers had risen up against them in their quest for power, Krónos had crafted the Orb and left it in Prometheus’s care and told him to use it only if things became dire. Zeus and his brothers won the war and the Titans were imprisoned in Tartarus, where they still reside today. But Prometheus, a champion for humankind, had known the horror the Titans would unleash in their need for revenge if they were ever set free, so he scattered the four elements across the earth and hid the Orb from the temptation of both man and god alike. Peace had settled over the earth and for thousands of years the Orb had ceased to exist. Until, that is, it was rediscovered.

“The fact you are no longer a virgin is disappointing, Hora, but something I’m able to work around.”

Isadora stepped back, slowly reached for the dagger at her hip. She knew Orpheus was the one who’d found the Orb, but she had no idea how Apophis had gotten it. The wearer of the Orb not only benefited from enhanced powers, but if he found the four elements and placed them in the empty chambers he would then possess the ability to release the Titans from their prison in Tartarus. And a power like that…Not only would it make him stronger than Zeus; if used, it would initiate the war to end all wars.

Apophis continued his advance. “There’s nowhere to run, Princess. And this time, no one to save you.”

No one but herself.

Her pulse beat like wildfire beneath her skin as she waited for him to draw close. She’d seen him bleed. She knew he was mortal, even if he was blessed with an unnaturally long life. She had to hope that in Gryphon’s body he was still as vulnerable as he’d been back at Thrace Castle. Hopefully more so.

The blinding blue glare coming from his eyes intensified as he stepped near. No, he wasn’t Gryphon, not anymore. And he had absolutely no regret over what he planned to do to her.

She braced her feet against the floor. Clenched her teeth. When he was only a foot away, feeling confident and smug that she was the weak female he could easily overpower, she grasped the dagger at her hip and swung out with all her strength.

The blade caught him across the chest. He hollered and jumped back. Bright red blood seeped through the white cloth to stain his shirt. She didn’t give him time to regroup. From her pocket she drew out the rocks she’d taken from Jason’s trunk and threw them into his face, intent on distracting him while she attacked with the dagger again.

But the rocks never hit their target. Their momentum stopped midair to hover and swirl inches from his face. His eyes grew wide; the glow in the room increased. His gaze narrowed in on the stones circling in the air at eye level.

Magick rocks. Some kind of ancient Medean spell was keeping them from falling. Realizing this was her best chance for attack, Isadora charged.

Her dagger caught Apophis in the side. He roared, whirled her way, and swung out with his arm. The back of his hand caught the side of her face. She sailed through the air and the dagger flew from her grip. Her body smacked into a column near the temple’s entrance.

Pain shot through her torso, exploded behind her eyes. She slid to the ground, gasped in a breath, rolled to her side, and tried to push up. When she looked up, though, Apophis wasn’t coming after her as she expected. His roar shook the walls as he thrashed out with both hands at the rocks that shot out of the air to pummel him from all sides.

Her gaze swept over the floor, searching for her dagger, but she couldn’t see it. She ground her teeth against the pain and pushed herself up, only to realize she was trapped. There was no way for her to get by Apophis and make it back through the same tunnel she’d come in.

That left hiding.

She wrapped an arm around her aching ribs, grabbed on to the column with her other hand, and righted herself. A quick look at the rock walls of the cavern told her that inside the temple was her best bet.

She stumbled through the enormous entrance, looked right and left. Ahead a raised stone altar was surrounded on all sides by marble benches and two large fire-burning torches that illuminated the space in an orange-red glow. A gigantic statue of Demeter graced the far wall. Along the periphery were small archways, no taller than a child, which looked like they led off into secret rooms or chambers.

Please,
gods…for once be on my side
.

She hobbled to her right, dropped to her knees near the first archway, and slithered through the space. The tunnel inside was dark, but one glance forward and she realized it went nowhere. Just ran the length of the wall and opened ten feet down to the next archway.

“Hora!”

Apophis’s enraged voice brought her around. She scooted as deep into the tunnel as she could, past the last archway into a corner where no light shone. Drawing her legs in, she tried like hell to become invisible. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs and her labored breath was all she could hear in the dark. How long until he found her? How long until he made good on his promise to “work around” the fact she was no longer a virgin? And what—oh, gods—had happened to Demetrius outside these walls?

Wait. The portal. Excitement leaped in her chest. She was on holy ground. If she could pull herself together enough to focus, she should be able to open a doorway home. She closed her eyes, pictured Argolea, tried to concentrate. Nothing happened. Frustrated, she tried again. But her racing heart and what was happening outside this small tunnel were all she could focus on. That and the sharp stab directly in the middle of her back.

A scraping sound echoed in the tunnel as she shifted along the wall, and then she felt something drop to the ground behind her. Reaching back, she wrapped her hand around a small round shape.

She drew the rock in front of her, opened her hand, and looked down. There was just enough light coming through the closest archway to see what she held wasn’t a simple rock. It was a diamond. As big as a coin and as clear as glass. And etched into the back wall of the stone, staring up through the shine as if it had been forged by magick, the mark of the Titans.

Her eyes grew as she stared at what she held, hardly believing it could be real. A loud crash echoed. Her gaze darted up just as the entire wall between her and discovery came tumbling down. Isadora yelped and covered her head with her hands. Debris crashed all around her. Before the dust settled, a hand latched on to her ankle and pulled hard.

A scream tore from her chest. She tried to grab rocks and stone, anything solid. But the hand was too strong, the force too great. She flipped over onto her stomach and grappled for something to stop her.

“I’m losing my patience with you, Hora!”

Apophis flipped her to her back. His irises glowed brighter than before, smothering the whites of his eyes until there was nothing but a blinding glare that illuminated the entire room.

“Trying to steal something that belongs to me, warlock?”

At the sickeningly familiar deep voice, Isadora’s heart lurched in her throat. For the span of several seconds she didn’t breathe, didn’t move, couldn’t think. When her muscles finally clicked back in gear, she turned her head toward the front of the temple where a man—
being
—dressed in worn denim jeans and a short-sleeved black T-shirt sat perched on the altar, his legs so long they reached all the way to the marble floor.

“Hades,” Apophis growled.

“We’ve been through this before,” Hades said in that jovial tone Isadora knew was anything but friendly. “Nice body, by the way. Step up from your last one.” He winked, straightened. “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine. And you know I don’t take kindly to you trying to take my stuff.”

Hades’s piercing black gaze swung Isadora’s way. Bile churned in her stomach as he stared at her as if he could see through every last stitch of clothing she wore. And in the silence each of his sick acts and wretched promises came back tenfold.

“You look shocked to see me, little queen. But we both know why I’m here, don’t we?”

She swallowed hard. Didn’t dare move. Had she thought Apophis was the worst of her worries? Oh,
skata
. She’d been so naïve.

“This does not concern you, Hades,” Apophis growled again. “Go back to the Underworld and leave us be.”

Hades’s gaze snapped to Apophis. Their eyes locked, and some kind of other-being communication passed between them. Isadora flipped over, tried to scoot back, but met solid rock. The two held each others’ stare so long, Apophis’s mouth snapped closed and he visibly trembled. But it wasn’t until sweat broke out on the warlock’s brow that Hades finally broke the stare-down, hopped off the altar, and said, “No, I don’t think I will.”

He turned toward Isadora and held out his hand. Dressed as he was, with his jet-black hair tousled and his features relaxed, he almost looked handsome. If you ignored the fact he could grind you to dust with barely a flick of his pinky finger and enjoy it along the way. “Come, little queen. We have much to discuss.”

Isadora didn’t move. But behind Hades, Apophis couldn’t contain his fury. His eyes grew so wide they nearly consumed his face, and that brilliant glow turned into a blinding spotlight that forced her to blink and duck her head. From the corner of her vision she watched as he lifted his hands, just as he had in the castle when he’d slammed Gryphon with some sort of energy force. But Hades whipped around before the blast left the warlock’s fingers, and with one outstretched hand his powers hurled the warlock clear across the temple, out the main door, and blasted him into the far wall of the cavern.

Rocks crashed down, a loud roar erupted. Hades crossed the wide floor in three easy steps and was out the door before Isadora clued in to what had happened. A blood-curdling scream tore through the cavern, followed by a pop and sizzle, and then there was nothing but silence.

Fear rooted Isadora in place. She knew this was her chance to get up, to run, but she couldn’t move. And when Hades stepped back into the temple, his expression set and jaw locked, she knew she was too late.

“Isadora!”

Demetrius’s frantic voice from somewhere close brought her head up and around.

Hades glanced to the ceiling and frowned. “Damn heroes. Always trying to save the day.” He crossed back to her, held out his hand. “He can’t interrupt us, so don’t worry. Now. The earth element, please.”

His request shocked the voice out of her. “The…? I don’t know what you’re—”

“Talking about? Oh, I think you do. The diamond. In your hand. What was once coal and came from the earth and is now so much more.”

Oh, shit.
“How do you—?”

“Know about it?” he asked, finishing her sentence again. “You made a deal with my treacherous wife, little queen. Remember? She brought you to me so you could save your sister’s soul. In exchange you gave her your power of foresight for one month. That one month has just begun.”

The deal. Of course that’s how he’d known. But still…

“She…she saw that I’d find it?”