She stopped in front of a door, turned the knob, and pushed the heavy mahogany mass open so Maelea and Skyla could enter the room.
It was a suite, not a room, with high arching windows, again looking down to the water, and a four-poster bed so big there were steps to climb into it. A fireplace ran along the left wall, a formal couch and high-backed side chairs placed in front of it. And beyond, a doorway Skyla guessed led to a bathroom.
This one room was as big as Skyla’s entire living space back on Olympus. A room clearly made for a princess, not a mere commoner. Definitely not an assassin.
Helene flipped on the lights, illuminating the jewel colors in the furnishings and the thick velvet comforter on the bed. “We were lucky they’d furnished most of the place. Though I have to admit sometimes it can be a little creepy.”
Skyla turned a slow circle and noticed the dainty wallpaper, the heavy curtains, the intricate touches like fancy curved iron grates over the vents and rich cherry hardwood floors.
“The bathroom’s through here.” Helene pushed open a door on the far side of the room. “The suite across the hall is just like this one. You’re welcome to it,” she added for Skyla. “I’ll have the cook send up some food for you both.”
She moved past Skyla to the door. Skyla turned to look after her. “How is it no one’s found this place?”
“Our sentries are good, that’s how. Get some rest. I’m sure Orpheus will be up to see you when he and Nick are done speaking.”
Orpheus.
As the door closed, that space in Skyla’s chest tightened again and the word hero echoed even louder.
How did this female—Helene—know Orpheus? The way she said his name indicated a familiarity. A friendship. She’d sensed the same connection between Orpheus and Nick earlier.
Daemon hybrids didn’t have friends. They were loners. And they didn’t care about others. They didn’t protect them or rescue them from avalanches or worry about what they thought or felt. A lump formed in her throat, a big one that told her everything she knew about the world around her was being shot to hell the longer she spent with him.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
Skyla had nearly forgotten she wasn’t alone. She looked toward Maelea standing near the windows, an I hate this place more than I hate you look on her face.
“Go ahead,” Skyla said, ignoring the look, too frazzled to deal with it right now. “I’ll be here.”
“Of course you will be,” Maelea muttered as she disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
A tiny part of Skyla felt for the girl. She’d lost her home, her anonymity, and Nick obviously wasn’t happy Orpheus had brought her here to the colony, but at least she was alive. If she’d stayed at her house in Seattle, she’d be dead now.
Dead.
The word echoed in Skyla’s mind as she moved to the windows, looked out at the blue-green lake around her quickly fading in the dusk of evening. For so long Cynurus had been dead to her, but he was alive. In Orpheus. Alive and so very close.
Water lapped at the rocky shore. A flock of birds soared far off in the distance. From this view, there was no way to get to the island unless you had a boat or helicopter. And that was good, because it meant surprise was thwarted by the water, the jagged mountains surrounding this lake, and the mass of caves they’d come through to get here. They were safe for the time being. But not safe from the memories bombarding her from all sides. The ones of Cynurus that were mixing with what she’d learned of Orpheus the last few days and the emotions toward him that had nothing to do with the past and everything do with the present.
What if Athena was wrong? What if Orpheus wasn’t the monster they all wanted her to believe he was? What if he was after something that had nothing to do with the Orb? Questions revolved in her mind, but the biggest one—the one that wouldn’t leave her alone and made her heart beat faster—sounded loudest.
What if he really was a hero after all?
Chapter 13
“Either you’re the biggest fucking idiot on the planet or you’ve got balls of steel. Currently I can’t decide which. Both, I’m sure, are going to get me killed in the long run.”
Here it came. Orpheus turned from the stairwell and the Siren who was continuously tipping his world off its axis and redirected his attention toward Nick. He chose his words carefully because though he and Nick were more friends than foes, the half-breed had a temper. And he was unpredictable, especially when that temper reared its ugly head. “How’d you know I was coming in?”
Nick crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Oh, let me see. It could have been my guy in Seattle informing me they’d found a dead hellhound near Lake Washington. Or it could have been news that Maelea was missing from that mansion she calls a house.”