Daemon. Traitor. Hero.
The words revolved in her head. She tried to ignore the last one, reminded herself the first two were all that mattered. But those words were drifting out of her reach. Moving away from what she associated with him. And the last echoed loudly in the space left behind.
Her head felt heavy by the time she pulled it together and reached him, a good twenty feet ahead in the tunnel. As he’d said, a sentry waited for them, a man dressed all in black with dark hair and a menacing look, standing in the center of what appeared to be a rock-walled room with tunnels jutting off in different directions. Though he carried a lantern that illuminated their location, Skyla’s Siren senses kicked into high gear. Guns were anchored to both his hips and a knife with a series of jagged teeth was strapped to his thigh. She’d stayed alive all these years by paying attention, and she easily recognized the threat in the man’s eyes as he caught sight of her.
She reached back for her dagger, but Orpheus grabbed her fingers and tugged her close before she grasped it. “Thought you got lost back there. You ready or what?”
She shot him a back off look he didn’t heed. Tried to pull her hand away. Couldn’t wrench it from his grasp.
The sentry gave her another once-over, then motioned with his hand as he turned and headed down a tunnel to their right. “This way.”
Orpheus leaned close to her ear. “Don’t piss them off.”
She didn’t miss his deadly serious tone or the I’m not kidding look in his eyes when he eased back. And her unease at where he was taking them shot up another notch.
Their guide didn’t speak much, and his pace was quicker than theirs. But after a series of turns through a maze of tunnels Skyla was sure she’d never remember, they eventually reached a door at least ten feet high made of solid steel.
The sentry flipped up a piece of what looked like rock on the wall but obviously wasn’t. Underneath, a keypad was backlit by a green glow. He typed in a code, then the door slid open to reveal a room with stone walls, a concrete floor, lockers and cabinets along one whole side, and a man as big as Orpheus standing in the center of the vast space, his hands on his hips, his amber eyes less than thrilled that they’d arrived.
“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you,” the man said.
Orpheus tugged Maelea into the room. Her eyes were wide with fear but she let Orpheus pull her along, didn’t even flinch at the contact. And that irritation that he so obviously cared about Maelea’s safety reared its ugly head all over again in Skyla’s chest.
“It’s nice to see a familiar face,” Orpheus said.
“Uh-huh.” The man turned skeptical amber eyes toward Maelea, then to Skyla. After a long beat of silence that amped Skyla’s already tightly strung nerves, he pushed a button on the wall near an elevator. “From the looks of the three of you, I’m guessing you’ll be needing food and clothes and somewhere to rest.”
“That would be good,” Orpheus said. “We appreciate it.”
The elevator opened with a ping. The man held out his hand, waited while Maelea and Skyla stepped into the car, then followed Orpheus in. He punched a button on the panel, turned, and crossed his arms over his massive chest, locking his stare on Skyla.
He knew who she was. She could see it in those eyes. Only this guy wasn’t just a man. He was something more. He was bigger than Orpheus and that was saying a lot. His blond hair was cropped short and he wore large gauges in his earlobes. And dressed all in black with those guns at his hips, the fingerless gloves, and that long scar down the left side of his face, he screamed threat in every way imaginable.
“Nick,” Orpheus said into the low hum from the elevator, “this is Skyla and Maelea. Ladies, this is Nick Blades, leader of the Misos colony.”
Nick didn’t answer. Didn’t even spare Maelea a glance. And as tension filled the car like a helium balloon inflating, Skyla realized this was one of the few half-breed colonies scattered across the globe. Argolean-human survivors of Atalanta’s war who’d taken refuge together. It was well known on Olympus that Argoleans placed no value on the Misos mixed-breed bloodline and that their past king refused to grant them protection because of societal discrimination. Since Zeus refused to get involved in anything Argolean related, he left them alone as well. Obviously, from the look of bitter contempt in this guy’s eyes, he knew that and thought less of Zeus than he did of the new Argolean queen.
Which meant he thought even less of her.
Her anxiety amped and the weight of the bow in her boot reminded her she needed to be careful.