Slowly, Theron pulled his gaze from the closed door to look toward the suddenly aggressive half-breed in his presence, ready to do battle to the bitter end. Whatever questions he had about Acacia would have to wait.
Nick’s scarred face twisted into a scowl. “I’m done playing games. It’s time you tell me just what you’re doing here and what the hell you really want with Casey.”
Casey couldn’t remember ever being so tired. She was sore from the attack in her bookstore, emotionally spent and mentally whacked out. As she followed Helene up the wide staircase, she tried not to think about everything Nick and Theron had just told her. It was ludicrous, wasn’t it? Other races didn’t exist. And mythological heroes were just that…mythological, for crap’s sake.
But even as she fought what they’d told her, she had the strangest sense she was wrong. It explained so much about who she was and where she’d come from and why she’d never connected with anyone in this world.
And holy cow, she needed a lobotomy if she was so easily buying into all this.
They reached the top of the staircase, and Helene gestured down a long hallway lined with closed doors and lit with candles every ten feet. “I think you’ll like the blue room. It’s very peaceful.”
For the first time, Casey noticed the girl’s limp and wondered if she’d recently been hurt, possibly by those beasts they’d encountered earlier. “Are you all right?”
Helene smiled. “I’m fine.”
“But your leg—”
Helene stopped and lifted one pant leg. A metal bar was anchored in a Nike running shoe. “Titanium. It’s new and I’m still getting used to it. My last prosthesis bugged me to no end. This one’s lighter.”
Casey tried not to stare as the girl dropped her pant leg and kept moving down the long hallway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I—”
“It’s okay,” Helene said. “I’ve been without my leg for a hundred years.”
Casey’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “You’re a hundred years old?”
“One hundred and thirty-six, to be exact.”
The hallway spun. Casey reached a hand out to steady herself. “How is that possible?”
Helene’s arms were suddenly around her, supporting her, as she helped Casey inside the room. “Whoa there. I take it Nick hasn’t explained that part to you yet.” She eased Casey into a chair Casey vaguely registered as being white and incredibly soft. “Our life spans are relatively long. Not as long as an Argolean’s, of course, but it’s one of the reasons we live here in the colony and not with humans.” A wry smile slid across her pretty face as she crossed the room to an armoire. She opened the double doors, fiddled inside for a few moments and came back with a mug of steaming tea, which she handed to Casey. “A one-hundred-and-thirty-six-year-old woman who looks like she’s thirty? That might garner a little attention in the human world, don’t you think?”
Casey took the tea and brought it to her lips. A familiar scent surrounded her as she took a deep drink. “I smell lavender.”
“Yes,” Helene said. “It’ll help you rest.”
“You use it for healing,” she said, as images of her night with Theron flickered through her mind.
“Among other things.” Helene crossed to a gigantic four-poster bed done all in light blue fabrics and folded back the plump covers. Crisp white sheets beckoned, promising respite. “There’s a small button on the wall next to the door. If you need anything, just push it and someone will come running.”
“So modern?” Casey asked, remembering the candles.
Helene smiled. “Yes. It’s not the Ritz, but we do have electricity and indoor plumbing. A main generator powers the colony, but because we’re not self-sufficient and everything costs money, we try not to overburden it. Candles are cheap and soothing, so we use those quite a bit. Up near the surface we have a lookout station complete with surveillance equipment, satellite phones and everything we need to connect with civilization.
At Casey’s perplexed expression, Helene came around the bed. “I imagine you have a thousand other questions, but for now, try to rest. When you wake, Nick will tell you anything you want to know. Now sleep, Casey. And don’t worry. Tonight nothing will harm you.”
“Thank you, Helene.”
Alone, Casey leaned back in the plush chair and studied the room she’d been given. Pale blue walls on three sides matched the comforter on the bed. Two club chairs separated by a small side table occupied the corner. An enormous stone fireplace, already burning, took up nearly one whole wall. But the far wall held the most interest. It was made entirely of stone, and a small, naturally occurring opening formed a porthole-type window that had somehow been sealed with glass and covered by a variety of branches which, she imagined, camouflaged the opening from the outside. One look out into utter darkness signaled that this part of the cavern must form the edge of some massive cliff.