Whatever. He didn’t care. Skata, he shouldn’t even be thinking of her anyway. He had more important things on his mind. Like locating that damn Maelea creature, the one he’d let get away the night he’d met Skyla. The witches in Argolea had told him she could sense energy shifts on earth. If that sonofabitch warlock Apophis was using the Orb’s energy, Maelea would be able to feel it. And she’d be able to tell Orpheus right where the slimy piece of shit was hiding.
He stayed in the shadows of the ritzy Lake Washington neighborhood he’d tracked Maelea to. Two nights of waiting and she hadn’t returned to the small town of Auburn, Washington, where the concert had taken place. But he’d lucked out when he overheard a conversation in a bar between two human males about the weird black-haired woman who routinely hung out at the death-metal concerts. What she’d been doing with the metalheads, Orpheus still didn’t know. But he wasn’t about to question a streak of luck, especially not when the waitress told him Maelea had mentioned living somewhere near Lake Washington in the Laurelhurst area.
He’d spent the last night running reconnaissance and he was pretty sure which house was hers. The daemon inside him could sense the light and dark warring within her. The new moon cast not a hint of light as he hid in the shadows and waited for the streetlights to go out. At this time of night—nearly two a.m.—not a soul was awake, but in this rich area, he knew neighbors looked out for one another. And a six-foot-six, two-hundred-seventy-pound stranger lurking in the shadows would draw attention he didn’t need.
He shook off the feeling he was being watched, crept up the empty drive with its manicured hedge and towering trees blocking out the other houses. The property was a sprawling four acres right on the waterfront. Prime real estate he had no doubt Maelea had purchased back when land in the Seattle area was cheap. He briefly wondered how she kept her neighbors from asking questions about her ageless appearance, then brushed it aside. No doubt she kept to herself. He couldn’t exactly see her at the neighborhood picnic, getting chummy with the local mom’s club.
He moved around the back of the house, felt the daemon in him stir. Yeah, she was definitely in there. He could feel the blackness of her soul, along with that same odd light from Olympus.
Man, that would suck. Light and dark warring together within, never letting one get the upper hand, never giving the bearer any kind of relief. And he thought he had it bad.
The back patio curved outward, covered by a trellis of climbing ivy. He picked his way around patio furniture and up the three cement steps to peer in the back window of the house.
“Rethink that move, daemon.”
He froze. Knew that voice. For some reason wasn’t surprised to hear it here, now.
Slowly he turned and peered through the dark with his enhanced sight toward the woman who’d rocked his world just three nights before.
Correction—not a woman. Dressed in what looked like some ancient Spartan fighting gear with…shit, a very familiar symbol stamped on the breastplate…Skyla’s affiliation suddenly made sense.
He turned back to peer into the house. No lights. Nothing moved. No sign anyone but a ghost lived here. “I was wondering when you’d show up again.”
“I thought I warned you to steer clear of this.”
“Well, lucky for you I never do as I’m told.” He glanced inside the window ledge at the LED that indicated an alarm system was turned on. “And at my age, I don’t plan to start now.” He took a step back, looked up at the second-floor window. Still no lights.
“I—”
“I’ve been trying to figure out what you are. We both know you’re not human, though you put on a good act. You’re definitely not a god. I’d have picked up on that right away. You aren’t a Grace or a Muse—not enough class. For a minute I thought nymph.” He shot her a look, from the swell of her breasts pressing up behind that leather breastplate to the knee-high black boots showcasing her shapely legs. “You screw like one.”
A disgusted look crossed her features. Was that jealousy? No, not from her.
He turned back to the house. “Then I realized there was only one creature built like an X-rated Barbie doll able to kick a daemon’s ass.” He dropped the humor. “Tell your boss Zeus to go fuck himself.”
“Cy—”
He didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. He flashed inside the house, turned to look at her through the window. Her shocked expression said she hadn’t expected he could flash through walls.
Get used to surprises, sweetheart. I sure have.
He shot her a salute and turned for the front of the house. In the entryway he stopped. Listened. His oversensitive hearing picked up one heartbeat. One even breathing pattern.
He grasped the old oak banister, climbed the curved stairs toward the second floor. The creak of wood behind him stopped his feet and brought his head around.
“Orpheus,” Skyla whispered. “Rethink this move.”
Skata. How the hell had she gotten past the security system?
“Look, lady,” he said in an equally low whisper. “I know you’ve got a hard-on for me and all, but it wasn’t that great. I’m not interested anymore.”