When her words died out, he realized he was crushing her windpipe. He loosened his grip, just enough so she could draw in a breath and answer.
“Because,” she said stronger, “I’m your only chance. If Zagreus can’t break you, he’s going to be forced to hand you over to Hades. He’s running out of time, and he’s getting anxious. And if Hades gets a hold of you, he’s going to take you to the Underworld, where you’ll never be free.”
Nick definitely didn’t want that. Sure, Orpheus had ventured in and out of the Underworld, but he’d done so with a map and a Siren and surprise on his side. If Nick was sent to the Underworld, Hades and even his fucking father, Krónos, would know, and he’d never escape.
The scars on Nick’s back tingled again, telling him nothing was as it seemed. He tightened his hand around her throat. “Why should I trust you?”
Her eyes widened again, and he knew he was hurting her, but he’d been beaten, cut, broken, stretched, and teased under this female’s direction. He wasn’t stupid enough to think one simple moment of pleasure had changed her heart.
“You…shouldn’t, but…” She dropped her hand to her side, releasing her hold on his wrist, giving him the power to do whatever he pleased, then met his gaze head-on. “Not all prisons have bars.”
His eyes searched her dark ones, looking for deceit, looking for anything that would tell him she was playing the part of Zagreus’s puppet. But he didn’t see it. The only thing he saw was determination. The kind that comes from knowing you have nothing left to lose.
He let go of her throat and stepped back. She swallowed once, then massaged her neck. “The guards are switching shifts soon. If we’re going, we have to go now.”
She moved away and reached for something from the floor. A zipper rasped in the darkness, then fabric brushed his hands. “These were the best I could find. Taken from another prisoner. Dress quickly.”
Jeans, a T-shirt, and boots. Nick didn’t care who they’d come from, he was just thankful he wouldn’t have to escape in nothing but these paper-thin cotton pants. He dressed rapidly, shoving his feet into the boots and breathing a sigh of relief that they fit. When he finished, he moved to the door, where Cynna was peeking through the small window, looking out into the hallway.
Her body heat seeped into his skin, and that sweet scent filled his head. Every other time she’d come to him, she’d exuded confidence, but tonight he felt the worry radiating from her body, felt the fear, and he knew then that the female who’d stood by unreadable and expressionless through every moment of his torture was not the real her. This was. This one was the true Cynna.
“The guard just went by.” She reached for the door handle. “Now’s our chance.”
He caught her arm before she could move. “What happens to you if we’re caught?”
“Zagreus will kill me.”
“Then why are you helping me?”
Slowly, her eyes turned up to his. She was a full head shorter than him, dark where he was light, soft where he was hard, and though he knew he was wasting time, he needed to know this answer more than he needed air to breathe.
“Because neither one of us should ever have been here,” she whispered. “And because if I don’t do the right thing now, I’m afraid I never will.”
His heart pounded hard against his ribs. He searched her eyes, looking for the lie. All he saw was truth.
He tightened his hand around her arm. “If this is some kind of trap—”
“Then you can kill me yourself. Assuming the guards don’t do it first. They hate me more than you.”
Her words ricocheted in his head. He wanted to ask what she meant by that, but he didn’t have time. She was already reaching for the door, pulling gently from his grip.
“There’s a back exit from the prison that runs up to the surface. I have a master key that opens all the doors, but we have to get to the exit first without being caught.”
“Weapons would be good,” he muttered as she pulled the door open slowly so it didn’t creak too much.
“I know where we can find some. Stay close.”
She looked both ways. Finding it clear, she crept out into the corridor. Nick’s gaze shot around as he followed. But as they moved through the dark stone hallway, he realized the doors around them opened to other cells. And the sounds coming from those cells—the moans, the cries for help, the agony—they all ignited the dark energy inside, sending it skipping through his belly and chest with both excitement and disgust.