“Damn duty,” he muttered. Then louder to Daphne, “We need to get this jacket off. I can’t reach the wound like this.”
Daphne grasped the ripped fabric in both hands and pulled, tearing through the Siren’s jacket so they could peel it away from the wound. Three large claw marks ran in a diagonal pattern over the Siren’s shoulder and down past her collarbone.
“A daemon,” Daphne said, staring at the wound.
That was exactly what it looked like to Ari. And where there was one, there was always more. He shifted closer to the Siren, intent on getting this over and done with fast.
“How many?” Daphne asked the Siren. “And what happened to them?”
“Th-three,” the Siren answered. “We killed two. The third”—she cringed in pain and adjusted against the rock—“the third took...Rhebekah...into the woods.”
Daphne closed her eyes for a quick second, then opened them. “Was she alive?”
The Siren shook her head. “I...I don’t know.”
Two Sirens in the area, and he hadn’t sensed either. Ari didn’t know what the hell was going on, but when Daphne turned to look at him with pleading green eyes, he knew they were done wasting time.
He reached for the Siren’s shoulder. “Hold her still. This will hurt.”
The Siren tensed, but Ari laid his hands over her wound before she could jerk away again. Heat gathered beneath his palms, penetrating the wound and stitching it back together. A warm yellow glow radiated from below his fingers and palms. The Siren cried out as the heat and energy shot through her body, but Daphne held her down, preventing her from moving and disrupting the process. Seconds later, it was over, the wound sealed. The glow subsided, and Ari lifted his hands to check the result. Nothing but thin red lines remained on her skin.
“Will she live?” Daphne asked, looking at what he’d done.
Unfortunately for him, yes.
Knowing Daphne wouldn’t want to hear that, he pushed to his feet. “Her wounds weren’t nearly as bad as yours.” He glanced at the Siren. Her head was tipped against the rock, her damp hair stuck to her temple, her eyes half-lidded as she breathed through the remainder of the pain. “In an hour or so she should be fine.”
“Thank the gods,” Daphne breathed.
Ari didn’t thank the gods for anything. But as he studied Daphne’s profile, the strong jawline, small nose, and the determined chin, he remembered her horror last night at learning Zeus’s Sirens had destroyed her village and killed her parents. She, of all people, should want to see a Siren dead, but here she was, relieved that he’d saved one.
That icy space in his chest that had warmed and expanded because of her grew even wider, making his heart beat harder, making his fingers tingle with the urge to reach for her, to drag her close, to ask her what the hell she was doing to him. But he knew this wasn’t the time or the place, and he definitely didn’t want to have that conversation in front of his archenemy.
“Stay here.” He tugged off his jacket and laid it over the Siren. “I’m going to have a look around.”
He made it three steps away before Daphne’s hand captured his arm. Before he could ask what she wanted, she rose on her toes and pressed her cold lips against the scruff on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for helping her.”
She let go of him, knelt back by the Siren, pulled his jacked up to the Siren’s neck and whispered words Ari didn’t catch. And as he watched, that cold space deep inside heated until only warmth remained.
*
“What the hell are you doing here?” Daphne whispered when Ari disappeared into the trees. “And what in Hades happened?”
Sappheire adjusted against the rocks, sitting more upright. “Athena sent us to find out what was taking you so long. We were looking for you.”
Unease filtered through Daphne’s belly. If Athena had sent Sappheire and Rhebekah, she could easily send more Sirens. She needed to think fast. “I hit a snag.”
“No shit,” Sappheire grunted. “What’s going on, Daphne? Why did he heal me? He has to know what I am.”
Daphne fixed the jacket over Sappheire’s bare shoulder then sank back on her heels. “He does. I could tell by the way he looked at you. But he’s not what you think.”
Sappheire’s brilliant blue eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand. He should have killed me already.”
Daphne brushed her hair over the shoulder of her jacket and braced her hands on her thighs. “He’s not crazy, Sappheire. Not like they want us to believe. They lied to us—Athena, Zeus, all of them. He’s not the monster they say he is. You’ve seen it for yourself.”
Sappheire’s eyes grew skeptical. “He’s got you under some kind of spell. What have you been do—”
Ari’s shout echoed through the trees, cutting off Sappheire’s words. Frustrated that Sappheire so easily believed the lies they’d been fed, Daphne whispered, “There’s no spell. I’ve simply opened my eyes.”