They reached the steps of the lodge, and Nick led the way into what appeared to be a gathering area. A giant iron chandelier lit with candles showered golden light over the space. The ceiling featured beams carved from massive trees and the floor was a rich honey-colored wood. A giant staircase directly ahead led to the second floor. To the right a living area, complete with leather chairs and rustic tabletops set in various groupings, littered the space. Double doors opened to the left.
Nick led them into the office. Once inside he closed the doors and pulled the blinds, blocking out the view and the curious eyes from the village below.
Acacia didn’t wait for an invitation to sit. She dropped onto one of the green leather couches in the corner of the room on a long sigh. She didn’t look good, and as he had back in her store, Theron sensed the illness racking her body. The same illness that plagued Isadora.
Skata, he needed to get her back to the castle. Like, now.
The guilt he felt over what he’d been sent to do was swift and useless, so he pushed it aside and decided to dwell on the facts. “What is this place?”
Nick eased into the chair behind a large oak desk, leather creaking beneath his big body. “Refuge. Or the best we can get. The caves allow us protection. Any daemon who ventures inside will be lost in the tunnels and picked off by our sentries. This colony’s been in existence for nearly five hundred years, and not once has it been breached.”
Five hundred years. Dear gods.
“How many are there?” Theron asked.
“In this colony?” Nick’s brow lifted, and though he volunteered answers, the challenge in his eyes was evidently clear. “Two hundred and forty-seven. On a good day. But our numbers rise and fall as our people move from colony to colony.”
Two hundred and forty-seven? Holy skata. And there were other colonies? That the king knew about?
When he could speak after the shock that brought, he asked, “They don’t remain?” If the fortress was as impenetrable as Nick claimed, why on earth would any of these half-breeds risk venturing out into the human world, where they could be identified and killed on sight?
“We have to live, Argonaut. Although I’m sure you’d like it if we didn’t.”
Theron sensed the aggression, and didn’t respond. Nick’s eyes narrowed to thin pinpoints. “No comeback for me? Yeah. I didn’t think so.”
In the silent tension between them, Nick lifted a pencil and tapped it against the edge of the desk.
“What do you mean, colony?” Acacia asked in a small voice from the couch.
Nick turned her way, and his voice gentled. “What do you think I mean, Casey?”
Theron’s eyes narrowed as he looked between the two. There was a connection between them, a bond that set off a strange tingling in Theron’s chest.
Wary, Acacia eyed Nick. “I—I’m not sure. But I have the strangest feeling those people out there aren’t…”
“Aren’t what, Casey?” Nick asked. “Aren’t…human?”
Her eyes flicked to his, and whatever she saw there made her catch her breath.
Nick nodded Theron’s way. “Show her.”
The command wasn’t just startling, it was inconceivable. You didn’t order an Argonaut, especially its leader, to do anything, because doing so was as good as inviting a death sentence. But Nick obviously didn’t give a flying fuck about protocol and threats. And that made him the most dangerous kind of adversary.
Common sense told Theron he was basically SOL here. The half-breeds already knew who he was. Acacia would never believe until she saw for herself. And until he won her trust, she wasn’t going anywhere with him anytime soon. Ever since the incident at the store, she’d been looking at him like he might be a daemon himself.
Reluctantly, he held up his hands, flashing the markings on his skin. Because he was an Argonaut, he could open the portal from wherever he was. When his pinkie fingers touched, a burst of energy flooded the room. His hands glowed white light that shimmered and backlit the markings. And in the light, the portal opened, casting a vision of the kingdom of Argolea over the walls and floor and ceiling, filling every inch of space in the office with its presence.
Acacia gasped. And Theron tried to view it from her perspective—as an outsider looking in. He’d opened the portal countless times with barely a thought, the beauty and regality of his home lost on him over the years. But now, looking at it through her eyes, at the blue-green mountains and the white marble buildings with their bronze-topped spires, for the first time he saw secrets. Lies. Half-truths that had possibly left an entire section of their race in peril.
He separated his hands, and the portal closed in a rush, the light and vision fading as quickly as they’d appeared.
Wide-eyed, Acacia looked up to his face. “Okay, that was a little freaky. Chriss Angel Mindfreak freaky. Wh-What the hell was that?”
Theron glanced toward Nick. “Chriss Angel?”
“An illusionist. Human. No doubt you wouldn’t know him.” He refocused on Acacia. “That was Argolea, Casey.”
“Argowhat?”
“Argolea,” Theron repeated. “My home and the home of your father.”
Her wide eyes slid to Nick for reassurance in a way that made Theron want to pull her eyes right back to him and punch Nick smack in the face.
Nick rose from his chair and moved around the front of his desk. “Theron’s a hero, Casey.”