A figure stepped out of the trees. Her breath caught.
She’d known he’d taken the body of an Argonaut, but what approached was not what she’d expected. Dark blond hair, a youthful and handsome face with a square jaw covered in just a dusting of dark stubble. Unlike Orpheus, who had that dark, dangerous look, and Demetrius, whose scowl was downright frightening, this Argonaut was movie-star handsome, tanned from days in the sun here in Greece, body muscular and at the same time artistic, as if his shoulders and chest and thighs had been chiseled from solid stone.
But that blue glare coming from his eyes…that wasn’t right. Whatever was inside him was definitely not Argonaut. And it was most certainly not heroic.
Apophis stopped just beyond the stones forming the circle, tipped his head. Those eyes glowed brighter. “I feel power radiating from you, little one.”
It was all she could do not to tell him what he could do with his power. But she bit her lip, reminded herself she was luring him in. It was no different from what she did as a Siren. Even if the virgin thing was a real stretch for her.
“I heard tales of a great warlock in the Peloponnese,” she said in a sickeningly sweet voice, lowering her head in a subservient way. “I hoped we would meet.”
His blinding gaze illuminated her body. “You are most delectable. There is promise in you.”
Sickness floated up from her stomach. “I’ve been studying the dark arts for quite some time. I had a vision my master would soon come for me.”
Oh, man, she was so going to hurl if this didn’t end soon.
“A vision?”
She nodded. And as they’d planned, opened her fist so he could see the earth element in her palm. “A vision that told me my master would unite a disk of great importance with this.”
His eyes grew wide, their glow illuminating the clearing. “Where did you get that?”
“I stole it. From a man. I told you I’ve been practicing my art.”
His eyes narrowed in deep distrust. “You are a virgin?”
Not even.
But Orpheus had been right. The warlock was attracted to that, the sick bastard. She knew why. He got some kind of enhanced power from the induction of a virgin into his order, but it pissed her off just the same.
“Yes, I am,” she lied, hoping Orpheus’s little spell was working to block his ability to sense this particular aspect of her being.
“Open the circle.”
This was the moment of truth. He couldn’t enter without invitation. And she was safe until he did. “I can only open it for my master. How do I know you are he?”
For a heartbeat he did nothing. Then slowly he fingered the buttons at his chest, popped one, then another. And pulled his shirt open to reveal the Orb of Krónos lying against his toned skin.
Its power reached her across the distance. The earth element grew even hotter against her palm, so close to its home. No wonder Zeus was willing to kill for this thing. Even from here she could feel the all-consuming draw and command.
The energy of the circle fractured and opened. The warlock stepped inside. Skyla’s pulse skyrocketed. She hadn’t opened the circle, Orpheus had. And though she knew it was all part of the plan, that didn’t ease her anxiety.
He approached slowly but with intent, and stopped only when he was a foot from her. He drew in a deep breath, held it. Smiled slowly. “This will be a very good union, virgin. You will be most important to the coven.”
“Think again, warlock.” Orpheus moved out of the trees with Skyla’s bow in his hands, arrow trained on the warlock’s heart.
As the warlock turned to look in his direction with fire in his eerie blue eyes, Skyla darted around behind him and sprinted for the opening in the circle.
“You,” the warlock growled.
“Yes, me,” Orpheus said, coming closer to the edge of the circle, arrow still ready to strike. “You took something that didn’t belong to you and we want it back.”
“We?” the warlock asked.
“We,” Demetrius answered, coming out of the trees to the warlock’s left, drawing his attention that way.
“You!” Fury erupted over the warlock’s face. He lifted his hand toward Demetrius and hurled a bolt of blue energy that hit the edge of the circle and dropped to the ground, leaving behind smoke rising from the dirt.
Okay, that was cool.
“What’s wrong, motherfucker?” Orpheus asked. “Too weak to break through one measly circle?”
Fury erupted over the warlock’s face. He held both hands out, closed his eyes, and began chanting in a foreign language.
“Now?” Demetrius yelled over the warlock’s words.
“Now,” Orpheus answered, handing the bow and arrow to Skyla as she came up beside him. He took the earth element she offered, closed his eyes, created his own chant that mixed with Demetrius’s.
The warlock’s face grew bright red. Magic gathered in his hands. Energy shot forward from his palms and pierced the circle.