He glanced at his watch. Two thirty-two a.m. Ghoul Girl was probably asleep, but he needed what was in her brain. And if he didn’t get it now, he’d have to deal with the Siren.
And he was done dealing with the Siren. Way done.
He lifted his fist, knocked. Seconds passed in silence, then a small voice said, “Come in.”
The room was dark, but through the moonlight shining in from the tall windows he could see Maelea sitting cross-legged on the bed, a white billowy nightgown fanning out around her, her long black hair falling past her shoulders like ribbons of silk. No surprise registered on her ashen face when he stepped into the room, and he figured that made sense. She was the daughter of Zeus and Persephone. If he could sense her, she could probably sense him as well.
He closed the door at his back. “Not tired?”
“I don’t sleep much.”
That made two of them.
He scrubbed a hand over his head. Tried to forget Skyla’s fingers skimming through the hair at his nape when he’d kissed her after the train derailment and the electrical charge that had sent through his body. “I came to talk to you about—”
“Is it true?”
“What?”
“About your brother? Is it true he was sent to the Underworld and that you seek the Orb to save him?”
Isadora, damn it. He loathed the way the queen kept sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.
“It is, isn’t it?” Maelea persisted when he didn’t respond. “You need the Orb to rescue him.”
He hated the fact that everyone seemed to know his plans before he’d even solidified them. Why did they think he was anything but the seething daemon inside him? Isadora, Skyla, now Maelea. They all thought he was some kind of heroic Argonaut when the truth was, inside he was the same as he’d always been.
He perched his hands on his hips, shot her his most wicked glare. But he could tell from the expectant look on her face that she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him anymore. Which only pissed him off more.
“Where is it?” He locked his jaw. His fists itched to hit something. But for Ghoul Girl, because he needed her help, he killed the urge so as not to scare her.
She looked down at her dainty hands, resting in her lap. “The darkness is leaving you. At first I thought you were the one I was supposed to…” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed. “But I realized pretty quickly that you weren’t him. It’ll be gone soon. Does it leave you feeling empty?”
He had no idea what she was talking about, but the lack of animosity in her voice was new. And unsettling. “How do you—?”
“I sense darkness. I’m attracted to it. Something I can thank my mother and her wretched husband for, I guess.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I wish mine would go away. I’d relish the emptiness.”
The anger left him as swiftly as it had hit. And in the silence he realized, yeah, they were more alike than she knew.
That emptiness in his chest that had consumed him the instant Gryphon’s soul was lost opened up like a chasm between worlds, the pain as stark and fresh as the minute it had hit. Before he thought better of it, he crossed to the bed. She looked up in surprise when he reached for her hand, pushed the sleeve of her gown up, and turned her wrist over, revealing the thin white scars all over her inner forearms. “Something tells me you can’t handle any more emptiness.”
She jerked her arm back, cradled it against her body, and glared at him. “What do you know?”
A lot, female. More than I should.
He sank onto the side of the bed, leaned forward to brace his arms on his knees. Three hundred years wandering this world and the next alone, and the one person he understood more than any other was the forgotten ghoul-like soul who’d been trapped between worlds. Trapped just like him, only in a different way.
Gods, life was one big fucking ironic twist of fate, wasn’t it?
“I know pain reminds you that you’re alive,” he said, surprised his voice didn’t catch in his throat. “Trust me, I’m not judging you. I’ve caused enough pain—mostly to others—for the very same reason. But scars aren’t always on the outside.”
She was silent beside him. He turned to look at her. Saw the way she was watching him with wary eyes. Recognized it was the same way he regarded others. Yeah, they were the same. And because of that, she of all people would be the one to understand. If he was going to find the Orb, he had to take a chance.
“Being alone isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a person, Maelea. Yeah, loneliness sucks, but it won’t kill you. But being forgotten…” He looked down at his forearms and the Argonaut markings that should be on his brother’s arms, not his. “That’s the death sentence, isn’t it? My brother’s soul was sent to Tartarus because of me. I’m not going to let him be forgotten. Not when I can do something to save him.”