Delia was the leader of the Medean witch enclave that resided in the Aegis Mountains outside the Argolean city of Tiyrns. And she’d been a personal friend of Orpheus’s mother and was now a friend of his. “I’m looking for a warlock named Apophis. He broke free of his prison in Argolea and crossed into this realm a few months ago. He has something that belongs to me. I want it back. It’s as simple as that.”
The female’s wary eyes darted his way again. She wore a long-sleeved black tunic that covered her hips, the sleeves so long they fell all the way to her fingertips, and a full, black, bohemian-style skirt that swallowed her slim frame. Straight black hair fell around her shoulders like a curtain. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I want you to tell me where he is.”
“And what if I won’t?”
“I’m hoping,” he said carefully, putting a hint of malice in the words, “that won’t be your choice.”
Skyla’s blond head darted his way, and in his peripheral vision he read the warning in her violet eyes, but he ignored it.
After a silence, Maelea said, “I don’t know anything about any warlock.”
She was lying. The daemon in him stirred as his patience waned. He took a step toward her. “Maelea—”
She pressed her hands against the wall at her back. Glanced past him to the weapon she’d never reach. “I’m warning you. Stay back.”
He nearly laughed. But he was well past laughing. He needed to know where that shitty warlock was hiding. He took another step her way. “If you won’t cooperate willingly, I’ll have to come up with creative ways to make you talk.”
“Orpheus—”
A howl cut off Skyla’s protest. Both females turned to the windows at the front of the house. The daemon in Orpheus vibrated with excitement, sensing something otherworldly outside.
The howl echoed through the still night air again. Maelea’s eyes went wide with fear. Skyla stepped past him and looked out the front window.
“Shit.”
“What?” Orpheus reached her side and peered out into the dark.
“Hellhounds.”
Three enormous doglike creatures with pointy ears, red eyes, and protruding fangs stood on the front lawn, looking up at the house.
“Skata.” It wasn’t daemons who’d been following him. It was Hades’s miserable underlings.
“You really are on a roll tonight, aren’t you, daemon? Is there a god you haven’t pissed off yet this week?” Skyla shot him a way to go, dumbass look, then turned back to Maelea. “Shit, she’s gone.”
He whipped around. Sure enough, the room was empty. And Maelea’s weapon of choice was missing as well. “Motherfucker.”
Skyla pulled a metal bar from the inside of her boot. Seconds later her bow unraveled. She reached inside her collar and extracted what looked like a toothpick but which grew into a full-blown arrow right before his eyes.
“Now that is sweet,” Orpheus murmured before he thought better of it.
“Check the first floor for her.” Skyla readied her weapon. “Those things will tear her to pieces if she tries to run.”
“Now you don’t mind me being alone with Ghoul Girl?” He stepped toward the door. “How the tides have changed.”
She twisted back to the window, slid the pane open a crack, and brought the bowstring to her shoulder. “If it’s a choice between you and Hades’s hounds, I’ll take you any day.”
“Gee, I feel so loved.” He moved into the hall, intent on putting the Siren out of his mind and finding that damn Maelea before she screwed this up for him for good, but paused when a whisper met his ears.
You aren’t now, but you were once, daemon.
He whipped around just as Skyla pulled the arrow back near her ear, let it go with deadly precision. He heard the whir as it spiraled toward its target, then the yelp and howl of the hound as its flesh tore open. And couldn’t ignore the fact those words hadn’t been in his head. She’d said them. Out loud.
The world spun. Blurred then cleared, until the bedroom walls disappeared and he was surrounded by trees. Standing in a field of green. The woman in front of him poised with her bow, exactly as she’d been in Maelea’s bedroom. Only this time she was aiming for a target propped against the trunk of a tree.
She released the arrow like a pro. It sailed through the air, struck the target dead center with a resounding thwack. With a triumphant grin, she lowered the bow and turned to face him.
“Your turn. Try to beat that, lover.”
His lungs tightened on a gasp. And an ache, the same one he’d experienced in the hallway of her apartment two nights before, settled deep in his chest.
Holy Hades. Whatever head game the Siren was playing with him had to stop now.
A scream from the back of the house jolted him out of his trance. The trees and field disappeared like a wisp of fading fog.
“Maelea.” Skyla passed him in a dead run.
Orpheus simply pictured the back patio and flashed there. Feet from him, Maelea stood frozen, the blade she’d used on him earlier shaking in her hand as she stared out at the side yard and the hellhound growling an ominous warning.