As Nick’s boots clicked down the hall, Orpheus closed the door and turned back to the room. Gryphon sat unmoving in the chair, staring off into space.
His body looked the same as always. Muscular, strong, healthy, albeit a little on the thin side. But the dead look in his eyes and the exhaustion lines on his face spoke of the strain on his soul.
Orpheus crossed the floor, helped Gryphon out of the chair by grasping his arm and pulling him up. “Let’s get you into a shower. The water will feel good.”
Gryphon didn’t fight him as he maneuvered them into the bathroom, with its wide glass shower and mirror that ran the length of the double vanity. But when Orpheus reached for his shirt, Gryphon swatted his hands. “I can do it myself.”
“Are you sure?”
“I was dead, not stupid,” Gryphon murmured, turning away. He pulled the shirt over his head, dropped it on the floor. Tugged the chain from around his neck and dropped that too. The chain that held the Orb of Krónos.
He hesitated before unbuttoning his pants. “Do you mind? I’d like some privacy.”
“Sure. Yeah. I’ll just be in the other room if you need me.”
Orpheus eyed the Orb, lying on the floor at his brother’s feet. His fingers itched to pick it up, but he fought back the urge. It wasn’t going anywhere. As he stepped out and closed the door, he listened to make sure Gryphon didn’t melt again. Long seconds passed with no sound, then the toilet flushed, followed by the shower turning on.
Orpheus moved away from the bathroom door and was just about to call down to see what Skyla was up to when a knock sounded to his right.
Before he could answer, the female he’d just been thinking of poked her head into the room. “Is it okay if I come in?”
Warmth spread through his chest. Warmth followed by worry. Would she try to take the Orb now? “Yeah. He’s in the shower.”
She stepped in, looking all long-legged and gorgeous with her hair tumbling down around her shoulders, just like always. “How is he?”
“Better.” Orpheus glanced at the bathroom door, then back again. “I think maybe the worst is behind us.”
“I hope so.” She crossed her arms, looked around the room. “Not bad. Better than pink. That’s the color they gave Maelea.”
Orpheus had nearly forgotten about Ghoul Girl. He pressed two fingers against his right temple. “How is she?”
“Fine. The same. And the last thing you need to worry about right now.”
Why did she care about him so much? Where was the kick-ass Siren who’d been sent by Zeus to kill him? Orpheus scrubbed both hands over his face. Confusion mixed with the exhaustion finally hitting him now that his adrenaline was waning. He dropped into the chair Gryphon had been sitting in earlier. “The Argonauts are here?”
“Yes. And the queen and her sisters.”
“Fantastic.” Another party. “Gryphon doesn’t want—”
“Demetrius already told them. They’re hanging out downstairs for now.”
“That’s gotta please Nick.”
Skyla eased onto the armrest of his chair, her thigh inches from his hand. “Thrills him,” she said sarcastically. “What’s the story there? Between him and them?”
“He’s Demetrius’s brother.”
She frowned, a pouty little look that made him itch to kiss it from her face. “I figured that out already, daemon.”
“His half brother, smart-ass. Nick was persecuted by the monarchy because of his lineage.”
“Which is?”
“He’s an original hero. Sired from a human and a god.”
Skyla sat silent for several seconds, then said, “Cool.”
Orpheus chuckled. What was it about this female that tugged at him? Even now, when he knew he couldn’t be anywhere but right here with Gryphon, when logic told him she was seconds away from snatching the Orb, he wanted to wrap her in his arms and drag her across the hall into an abandoned bedroom suite. Then find out all over again what it felt like to slide inside her body and get lost in her scent.
Him. A daemon who didn’t form attachments. A witch who’d learned long ago to keep to himself. A male who never spent more than one night with any female.
And her. A Siren. Sent to seduce, steal, then take him down.
He eyed her leg. Ached to reach for her. To touch her. To let her remind him he was alive. To prove that he hadn’t been forgotten.
He blew out a long breath and glanced toward the bathroom door. The shower was still running. “Maybe I should check on him.”
Moment of truth. What would she do?
“Okay,” she said as he pushed to his feet. “Are you hungry? I could call down and have something brought up.”
He frowned. “Are you always this motherly, Siren?”
“Always,” she mocked, crossing her shapely legs and leaning forward to bat her long dark lashes his way. “After beheading ogres all day long, I serve on the PTA board at night.”
“You on a PTA board. Now that I’d like to see.” He knocked on the bathroom door. Drew up his defenses, just in case. “Gryph? You okay in there?”