Where would she go? How will I find her? Why the hell did Theron let her go?
“Titus?” Theron said in his ear. “Where are you?”
His mind snapped back to the present. “Um…Idaho.”
“You’ve got a lead on Gryphon?”
“Yeah, we think so. Maybe.” Holy hell. What was he going to do about the redhead?
“Is Maelea still with him?”
He needed to pull his head out of his ass. He needed to focus on the here and now. He swiped a hand across his forehead. “It seems that way.”
“Tell me where you are and I’ll have Nick send men your way to help you search. There’s been a rash of daemon activity in the area, and the rest of the Argonauts are dealing with that.”
No way. Titus didn’t want Nick’s men in on their search. Not ever, if he could help it. Nick was still out for blood, after what Gryphon had done. “I’ll call when we know more.”
“Titu—”
He clicked off the phone and shoved it into his pocket before Theron could tell him what the hell to do.
“Who’s this redhead?” Skyla asked.
“A female who showed up at the colony looking for Maelea. Said she was a friend.”
“Maelea doesn’t have any friends,” Orpheus pointed out, his brow drawn low.
“Yeah, that was my thought,” Titus told him. “But she wanted to find her. For whatever reason. I didn’t get much out of her except that Maelea has property both in Seattle and up on Vancouver Island.”
Excitement flared in Skyla’s green eyes. “Where on Vancouver Island?”
“I don’t know,” Titus answered.
Skyla turned to the computer and pulled up a new search screen. “This might be our first break.”
Titus wasn’t so sure. Vancouver Island was a big place, and the redhead—Natasa—could just have been fucking with him to get him to back off.
The redhead…shit. He had to stop thinking of her. She was not his priority now. Gryphon was.
Or so he told himself.
Pushing aside thoughts of her that would only get him into trouble, he looked toward the computer screen. And prayed they found Gryphon before the jackass did something they couldn’t undo. “Let’s hope you’re right, Siren. Because if you’re wrong, the time we waste looking could just mean Maelea’s life.”
***
Atalanta paced the length of her hall. Outside, snow swirled and spit against the side of her ancient fortress, but she barely cared. The cold lived inside her. It was the only thing of comfort to her these days.
“This should not take so fucking long! I’m losing my patience with all of you.”
The archdaemon at the front of the pack—Stolas—bowed. “My queen, we will find him.”
“When?” she asked, stalking down the three steps to glare into his hideous eyes. “He’s killed all the daemons you’ve sent after him.”
“He’ll make a mistake.”
She ground her teeth, fought the urge to yank the sword from his scabbard and decapitate the bastard. Killing him wouldn’t help her find her doulas. If she didn’t get Gryphon soon, they’d run out of time to find the Orb before the six months Krónos had given her was up.
“Send more daemons.” She grasped the sides of her long, red robe and climbed back up to her throne, refusing to believe even for a second that she wouldn’t succeed. She would not go back to the Underworld. Not to be his slave. She was a god. And she was destined to command all. “Gather hybrids to join in the search.”
“My queen,” Stolas said, “the hybrids are unpredictable.”
She turned to glare at him. “Then make them predictable. I will have your head if you fail me here, Stolas.” Fear filled his eyes. She averted her gaze and looked out over the ten daemons behind him. “I will have all your heads.”
“My queen,” a daemon to the back of the pack said. “There is one avenue we have not investigated.”
Atalanta’s eyes narrowed. “Who said that? Come forward.”
The pack parted, and a daemon dressed in a long black trench coat moved to stand next to Stolas. One whose body and eyes looked…vaguely familiar.
“What is your name?” Atalanta asked. Where had she seen him before? And who had he been in the human realm before trading his soul for a second shot at life in the Fields of Asphodel?
“Naberus, my queen.”
Naberus…the name meant nothing to her. But then, daemons rarely took on names that resembled those they’d used as humans.
She didn’t miss the glare Stolas sent the newcomer. Or the smug expression Naberus shot back. He was challenging the archdaemon, and they both knew it. Something very few daemons even thought about, let alone attempted.
“Tell me what you know,” Atalanta said, shaking off the strange feeling that she knew this daemon from somewhere. “Or I’ll have your head now.”
“My queen,” Naberus said, “the Argonaut travels with a female.”
Atalanta cut her gaze to Stolas, whose eyes flew wide. “Why did you not tell me this?”
“I…I did not know for certain. I—”