Tempted (29 page)

The blackness erupted inside him, bubbled up from the depths of his soul where he’d always known true evil lurked. These weren’t his friends, never really had been, and he’d been seriously mistaken if he thought they gave a rat’s ass about him. They’d never believe him if he told the truth. He could see that now in the deeply carved lines of Theron’s face, leaving Demetrius with an oh-so-fucking-clear picture of reality. His reality.

“Where is she?” Theron asked again from between clenched teeth.

Demetrius didn’t answer. Only stared at the leader of the Argonauts and cleared his mind of everything. Everything they could use against him or twist into their own vile truths.

“If you don’t tell me where she is right now—”

“He’s not gonna tell you,” Titus said from outside the cell. “You’re wasting your time, Theron. He’s put up a block.”

Fury erupted in Theron’s eyes. His fingers tightened around Demetrius’s arms. But it was Casey’s voice that stopped the guardian from ripping Demetrius’s limbs off.

“Please, Demetrius,” she said in a weak voice. “Please just tell us where Isadora is.”

His gaze strayed to Casey, and he saw then that the king’s half-breed daughter was pale and thin as well. As pale and thin as Isadora had been when he’d last seen her.

“We saw where you live,” Theron said, dragging Demetrius’s attention back to his face. “We saw your little lookout room, you sick fuck. We know you’ve had this planned for a long-ass time. And thanks to what Gryphon told us about your
materas
, we now know why. If you want to live to ever see the sun again, you’d better tell us where she is right this minute.”

They’d been to his flat. They’d seen his pictures. And they knew Atalanta was his mother. Oh yeah, they’d already tried and convicted him. He wasn’t getting out of this one.

“Shit,” Titus muttered. “He knows where she is, but he’s not going to tell us.”

Menace erupted over Theron’s face. “I ought to—”

“Not if you ever want to see her again,” Demetrius finally said. Theron’s eyes went wide with rage, but Demetrius didn’t back down. “Now take your fucking hands off me.”

The others must have read the fury on Theron’s face, because they each moved forward, ready to pull Theron back. But the leader of the Argonauts easily shook off their arms. He released his hold but he didn’t look away. “You sonofabitch no-good traitor. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Demetrius swiped at his bloody lip. “Not everything’s about you, Theron. The sooner you figure that out, the better off we’ll all be.” He looked at the others. “Titus is right. I do know where she is and I’m not going to tell you. I am, however, willing to make a deal.”

“You’re not taking Acacia or Callia anywhere. And we don’t make deals with scumbag-sucking—”

Demetrius shot Theron a scathing look. “I don’t need them. And you will deal if you want to save your soul mate’s life. I’m willing to take you to where Atalanta’s holding the princess, but once she’s free you’re going to do me a favor.”

“You’re higher than a kite if you think we’re gonna release you after what you did.”

“I don’t expect you to. I want something else.”

Theron’s gaze jerked Titus’s way, but the other guardian shook his head. “I can’t read him. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Theron’s gaze swung back to Demetrius. “And just what do you want?”

“That, you’ll find out later.”

Theron scoffed. “Why should we trust you? Not only are you a witch but you’re Atalanta’s son. And thanks to you, Gryphon’s gone. You could be leading us into a trap just like you did him.”

Gone.
Demetrius thought back to the way Gryphon had been on the island. Possessed. Which meant his soul was dead. Likely in Tartarus.

Not his biggest problem now. He couldn’t do anything about it anyway. And considering everything else, the fact they knew he was part witch didn’t even matter. The only thing that mattered was getting to Isadora before it was too late. “I could be,” he answered with a shrug. “At this point, though, I’m the only option you’ve got. And contrary to what you think you know, things aren’t always what they seem.”

Theron turned away in disgust, looked toward Casey. The half-breed’s eyes reflected worry, fear, and indecision. “Theron.”

He glanced to the other Argonauts, none of whom seemed to know what the hell to do. And in the silence, Demetrius prayed they would take him up on his offer. He knew exactly where Atalanta was holding Isadora, and thanks to the vileness that lingered inside him he was the only one who could get to her.

Theron turned to face him again and hatred brewed in his eyes when he said, “Fine. We’ll agree to your terms. But that’s where the hospitality ends. And you’d better pray we get to her in time, because if we don’t I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart with my bare hands. Titus?”

“Yo.”

“Get Orpheus over here. We’re gonna need him. And tell the SOB we found the traitor who got his brother killed. That ought to light a fire under his ass.”

***

“It’s as cold as the fucking Arctic up here,” Phineus mumbled as he rubbed his hands together to ease the chill they all felt.

“It pretty much
is
the Arctic, dumbass,” Titus said, shifting the toothpick in his mouth to the other side and stomping his boots in the thin layer of snow that covered the permafrost.

From his spot on the other side of the old-growth trees they were all huddled under in the frigid forests of northern British Columbia, Demetrius watched the banter with keen eyes. Next to him, Cerek shot Phin and Titus a glare. “Stop your bitching. It’s better than Siberia any day of the damn week. Trust me, I know.”

“Ladies,” Theron said as he studied the rough sketch of Atalanta’s compound that Max had put together for them. “If we’re done gossiping, I could use some focus here.”

The boy had detailed the main lodge, the training yard, and the barracks with chilling accuracy, but luckily he hadn’t remembered just how to reach Atalanta’s stronghold. That, thankfully, had kept Demetrius in the loop and had made his presence necessary.

They were half a mile away, hidden in the trees just outside the northern city of Fort Nelson. Moonlight cast looming shadows across the frozen forest floor. A slight breeze blew, rustling the evergreens in the dead of night. In addition to the Argonauts, Orpheus had agreed to join the raid, but he wasn’t listening to Theron or studying the schematics of the compound. No, his icy eyes were pinned on Demetrius and murder brewed in their dark depths.

Get
in
line, shithead.

Beneath the thin dark jacket he wore, that blackness inside Demetrius shifted. The closer they’d gotten to Atalanta and her daemons, the stronger it had grown, giving him the power and strength he’d been lacking. Until now it was all Demetrius could do to keep it at bay. But soon enough he’d let it free. If his plan went as he hoped, soon enough it would consume him. And Orpheus just might get that murder he so desperately sought.

“Z?” Theron asked. “You ready?”

Next to Demetrius, Zander scowled. “No. I’d rather kick some daemon ass.”

Theron folded the map and stuck it in his back pocket. “Too bad. I’m not risking you in your condition.”

“I can’t be—”

“You can be hurt. And none of us have time to haul your ass out of there if things get rough, which I fully expect to happen.” His gaze swept each of the Argonauts and hovered on Orpheus. “Rescue mission only. We clear?”

The guys nodded in agreement, all except Orpheus, who still had a death stare dialed in on Demetrius.

Yeah, he deserved it, but a small space in Demetrius’s chest pinched with the realization he was now the outcast. Though he’d never truly fit in with the others, he’d been a part of something greater than himself for a short amount of time. Now? Now they all regarded him as the enemy. Which, ironically, he was.

“O?” Theron asked.

Orpheus tore his gaze from Demetrius and looked toward Theron. But something shimmered over his face before he turned, and for a split second his eyes shifted to a glowing green before hardening once more. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

The blackness inside Demetrius jumped to life, recognition sparking it into action. He hadn’t been sure before, but now he knew for certain. Orpheus was—

“Zander,” Theron said, “you know what you have to do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zander mumbled. “I’ve got it under control. He’s not going anywhere. Just don’t have too much fun without me.”

Casting Demetrius a withering look, Theron turned and motioned the others to follow.

The Argonauts disappeared into the trees, their path a circular loop in different directions around the property, out of sight of Atalanta’s sentries. Thanks to what Demetrius had told them and Max had confirmed, they were targeting the main house. But that wasn’t where Isadora was being held. Demetrius stared out over the barren brown field. Far off in the distance, he sensed Isadora was close to Atalanta, in her stronghold, where her powers were greatest and where no one could get to her but him.

Zander shoved his hands into his pants pockets, jumped up and down a few times to ease the chill. “Fucking freezing out here.”

The guardian was ticked he’d been relegated to baby-sitting detail, but Demetrius couldn’t have picked better. And even though Demetrius was cuffed and Theron had brought Delia in to cast some sort of spell on the cuffs before they’d left so Demetrius couldn’t use his magick to break free, he knew it was only a matter of time before opportunity presented itself. Now he just had to bide his time and wait.

Footsteps pounded in the trees no more than thirty yards away, followed by muffled voices and grunts that definitely weren’t human. Or Argolean.

“Skata.”
Zander tugged Demetrius back into the darkness of the trees. With his hands bound behind him, Demetrius watched from the shadows as three daemons, obviously running patrol, emerged from the woods and crossed the barren field.

Yes.

“Fuckers,” Zander muttered when they were nearly across the field. “We’re lucky they didn’t see us.”

Demetrius closed his eyes as a chant rose up in his mind. Calling on the magick that had been born into him, he reached out with an invisible limb, his power a dark mist curling along the ground until it reached the feet of the daemons, now more than a hundred yards away. Contact and pressure erupted in his hand. He imagined the mist wrapping around the ankle of the middle daemon and clamping down. Then he gathered his power and yanked.

A cry erupted across the field as the middle daemon was wrenched up and back to slam into the frozen ground. The other two jerked to a halt and looked back with perplexed expressions on their gnarled faces.

“What the hell—”

Demetrius shifted around to face his kinsman. “You’ve got about twenty seconds before they reach us.”

“How did you—”

“The magick works like a beacon, Z. It’s how they found me the first time. It’s how they’ll find us now. You can either stay here and be overrun, or you can unbind my arms and help me save Isadora.”

“Save her? I thought—”

A roar erupted across the field and footsteps pounded the earth, signaling that the daemons had realized just where they were. Demetrius’s pulse picked up speed. “Contrary to what Theron thinks, I didn’t hand her over to Atalanta. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back. Even sacrifice you if I have to.”

Zander’s eyes flashed from silver to gray, signaling he’d called up one of his legendary rages. “You sonofa—”

Another roar sounded, this one a hell of a lot closer.

“Five seconds, Z. You more than anyone know things aren’t always what they seem. The others won’t be able to get to her. I’m the only one who can. Help me.”

Zander’s eyes held Demetrius’s, indecision warring within their gray depths. “Motherfucker.”

Whether it was the plea or the truth that made up Z’s mind, Demetrius didn’t know. But Zander shoved Demetrius around without another word. Metal clicked against metal as the key slid into the lock, then the cuffs clanged together as they separated.

Zander thrust the ten-inch hunting knife from his thigh into Demetrius’s hand and took a step away, reaching back for the parazonium at his back. “You’d better not make me regret this.”