Orpheus’s smile widened. He kicked his feet out to rest them on the low glass coffee table. “Aw, now Isa. You hurt my feelings. You really do. Here I am, giving up my precious sleep to help you—again—and what do you do? You hurl insults at me.” He tsked and shook his head. “Breaks my heart. It really does.”
Orpheus wasn’t here simply because he was worried she would spill the beans on his secret, but because he knew she was desperate enough to call him. And that put him in the driver’s seat. Refusing to show him an ounce of weakness, she lifted her chin. “What’s it going to cost me?”
“Depends.” He arched one wicked brow. “What exactly are you asking for?”
She thought for a minute. Then said, “Persephone.”
His rolling laughter was like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard. “Wait, let me check.” He held up a finger, glanced around as if he were listening for something, then shook his head. “Yeah. No. She won’t give you five minutes.”
“But she would for you,” she said quickly, ignoring his sarcasm. “If you asked her.”
His expression said that wasn’t a guarantee. “Even if I wanted to, her SOB of a husband won’t allow it.”
“He doesn’t have to know.”
Orpheus’s eyes narrowed. “And how do you plan to keep Hades from knowing? Did your Argonaut teach you that Jedi mind-trick thing?”
She ignored the comment, because she wasn’t exactly sure what it meant. She wouldn’t need mind tricks if she had Orpheus’s cloak of invisibility. He used it to sneak into the beds of the human women he ravaged, and he’d let her borrow it before to cross through the portal unchecked when she’d gone looking for Acacia. The cloak was so strong, it worked on both humans and gods alike.
“Oh, no,” Orpheus said, reading her expression. “Not on your life.”
“I may not have much of a life left. And you’re the only one who can help me, Orpheus.”
His eyes flashed green in that daemon way of his, then returned to their normal shade of gray. For a moment, fear raced through her, but she beat it back. She was the only one who knew of his true lineage—she and his father, a past Argonaut who was now, conveniently, dead. Not even Gryphon knew his brother was half daemon. The only reason Isadora had discovered the truth was because she’d secretly followed him into the woods one night, where he often trekked alone for reasons she didn’t understand, in the hopes of convincing him to help her, and had seen what he could turn into.
She inwardly shuddered at the thought. She could have slinked away. Could have returned to Tiyrns and turned him in. But a vision had stopped her. It had been the last one of the future she’d had before her powers had dried up. And in it, Orpheus—in his daemon form—had saved her.
He looked toward the dark windows. “I don’t owe you shit.”
She knew he was lying. He knew she held his fate in her hands. One word from her and he’d be executed. If Argoleans discriminated against humans, it was nothing compared to what they’d do to a daemon living among them.
Silence stretched between them. She half-expected Orpheus to poof his way right out of her suite. And then he said, “Tell me why.”
“It’s personal.”
“Tough shit. If you’re asking me to go out on a limb to get you Persephone, then you better cut the personal crap.”
Isadora bit her lip in indecision. In the end, she knew she didn’t have a choice.
Before she lost her courage, she reached for the hem of her skirt and slowly lifted so he could see the marking high on the inside of her right thigh. The winged omega symbol. The one she’d never understood until recently.
Orpheus’s eyes grew wide and he swore in his native tongue.
Yup. He obviously knew what the mark meant. But then, being half daemon, of course he would.
She dropped her skirt back into place. His smug expression had been replaced by a “holy skata” one she knew she would never forget. “I need to see Persephone because she’s the only one who can influence Hades to alter the pact.”
His shocked gray eyes slowly lifted from where he was still eyeing her skirt up to her face. If there was one other person in all of Argolea who didn’t want to see the prophecy come true, it was Orpheus. “And what if he won’t?”
“Then you and I are both likely dead.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now tell me, are you going to help me or not?”
They left at dawn, when the first light of morning was spilling over the horizon. Theron let Acacia lead the way, while he took up the rear to keep an eye out for any wayward daemons lying in wait.
So far so good. He knew none of the three from the day before had been able to send a signal back to Atalanta about their location. At some point they’d be missed, but hopefully by the time anyone in Tartarus noticed they were gone, Theron would have Marissa and Acacia far from this valley and out of harm’s way.