TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7)

Holy fuck. His senses told him the humans inside were still sound asleep, which meant…he’d just thought that damn door open.

 

His hands grew sweaty, and he pulled back again. He’d never had the power of telekinesis before. Yeah, sure, as a demigod, he’d been blessed with certain gifts. His were the ability to hear amplified sounds and to see objects from great distances. Gifts that had made him an incredible hunter and tracker and had helped him protect his people from Atalanta’s daemons. But this—being able to manipulate matter with just his mind, if that was what he’d just done—this was something entirely new. And, a voice in the back of his head warned, something that could be incredibly dangerous.

 

“He senses you’re growing stronger.”

 

Cynna had said those words to him. In his cell, before she’d pleasured him. At the time, she’d been warning Nick about Zagreus’s plans to double his efforts with the nymphs, but until this moment, Nick hadn’t cued in to her meaning.

 

Now he did. Now he knew that if Zagreus suspected Nick’s link to Krónos was giving him abilities he hadn’t had before, then it meant it was entirely possible the Prince of Darkness had let Nick go on purpose. To what end, Nick still didn’t know, but the fact the devil had released Cynna with him meant she was somehow deeply linked to Nick’s freedom. Or his potential servitude to the gods.

 

Those scars on his back vibrated stronger, but he didn’t have time to speculate about that reality further. Before any of the humans awoke, he needed to find that phone.

 

Cautiously, he pushed the door open and stepped into the small, dark house. A living area with a rug, two chairs, and beat-up end tables took up the space to his left. A U-shaped kitchen sat to his right. Ahead, an open doorway led to a bathroom and two small bedrooms.

 

He moved into the bathroom, didn’t bother with the light, and opened the cabinet under the sink. Finding antiseptic and bandages, he shoved them into his pockets, then headed back into the living area. A grunt echoed from the bedroom to the left, and he hesitated. Seconds later, heavy breathing returned, signaling the human had gone back to sleep.

 

Nick scanned the dark room in search of a phone. The house might be worn. The furniture might be old. But the Chevy out front was a newer model, and in today’s world, everyone had a cell phone.

 

He spotted it in the kitchen, plugged into a charger. Reaching for the device, he ran his finger over the screen and typed in the first four passcode numbers that came to his mind. The screen unlocked, illuminating the room in an eerie white light.

 

Wicked. He could get used to that.

 

His thumb hesitated over the Phone button. And out of nowhere, his mind drifted to his soul mate, Isadora.

 

Would she help him if he reached out to her? He’d gotten the message loud and clear the last time they’d been alone together: she didn’t want him. She didn’t feel the soul mate draw as he did. She’d chosen Demetrius over him, and that decision was never going to change. But for the first time in…Nick couldn’t remember how long…he didn’t care.

 

He looked down at the phone, pushing thoughts of Isadora from his mind. There was only one person he trusted to help him get out of this mess. Only one person he dared turn to right now.

 

The only question was whether or not the fucker would agree to help.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

 

Cynna startled awake.

 

A shiver racked her body as she glanced around the dark jungle, searching for the source of the sound that had awoken her. Shadows danced in front of her eyes, a mixture of palm fronds and darkness she couldn’t see clearly.

 

She swiped the sweat from her brow and tried to sit more upright against the base of the tree where she’d drifted to sleep, grimacing at the pain shooting across her side with the simple movement. Skata, she was in bad shape. Holding her breath, she glanced down but couldn’t get a good view of the wound.

 

She shivered again. Her spine was damp, her muscles weak, and, based on the thin sheen of sweat coating her skin, she was pretty sure she already had a fever. She gritted her teeth and leaned forward. Some kind of bird or bat or creature she didn’t want to think about howled high above, and the brush rustled to her right.

 

Animals. Nothing more. She wasn’t quite sure how she knew, but she was confident Zagreus hadn’t sent anyone after them. Lykos—

 

A whisper of…something swept through her mind. A memory she couldn’t quite bring into view. One of her and Zagreus and Lykos in her room. Her pulse picked up, and sweat slid down her spine. Something had happened there. Something she couldn’t quite remember but which she knew was important.

 

Fingers shaking, she untied the jacket from her waist and dropped it on the ground. Then she reached for the edge of her shirt, drew a deep breath, and pulled the fabric away from the wound.