And it was a rendering of him in his true form—wearing white pants, head full of hair so blond it was almost white. In one hand was a golden harp. There was no way anyone seeing her standing there near that painting couldn’t see some of the shared characteristics.
I had no idea what was going through her head right then.
Her wide eyes met mine for a moment, and then she turned her cheek. The side of her neck was exposed again.
That fucking daimon had tagged her, leaving behind a crescent-shaped wound that would eventually fade to a scar a shade paler than her normal skin tone.
Tagged her in the same spot Alex had been tagged— Alexandria Andros, Marcus’s niece. The other Apollyon—the one who was supposed to exist. The girl I had helped train once it was discovered what she was. And the girl I’d given up the rest of my life for so she could spend hers with the man she loved.
It had been a long time since I’d let myself really think about her, really allowed any thought concerning her follow through. It wasn’t because she’d broken my heart or picked someone else over me. I’d cared for her—as much as I’d been able to care for anyone back then. No. Not being able to think about her had nothing to do with the brief relationship we’d had.
It had everything to do with how badly I had screwed her over.
I had no idea why I was thinking about this now or allowing myself to do so. Maybe it served as a reminder to get the hell out of here, because when I looked at Josie, I couldn’t help but think history was on repeat.
Here was yet another girl who had a fate laid out before her that she never chose, and I knew, when gods were concerned, she could fight that fate all she wanted, but it wouldn’t change a damn thing. Her life was on autopilot. And with me involved, that autopilot was set to crash and burn. She didn’t need me in her life, and if she knew everything about me, she wouldn’t want me there.
I needed to leave. Right now. Go ahead and get back on the road before Apollo appeared and I ended up stuck here. But it was more than that. I needed to leave before it got to the point that I didn’t want to leave.
So I should have been turning away and walking right out that fucking door. Saying goodbye. Wishing her good luck. She was going to need it, and then some.
Turning away, my hand curled on the frame of the door. My heart pounded in my chest as I closed my eyes and pushed it shut. A moment passed and then I pivoted around and crossed the few feet between us. Without saying a word, I took her hand and led her into the bathroom.
She needed to be cleaned up.
And I wasn’t leaving.
CHAPTER
18
MY HEART was somewhere in the vicinity of my throat as Seth led me into the bathroom. I had no idea what he was doing, but his hand was making me feel warm and weird again. He sat me down on the closed toilet, and I felt like we’d been here before.
Oh yeah, we had been.
“What…what are you doing?” I asked.
Kneeling down, he was staring at our joined hands, his brows furrowed together, and even though fifteen minutes ago we were arguing and I was threatening to nunchuck him in the throat, he was holding my hand like it was the most fragile thing in the world. “What is the real reason why you want to learn how to fight, Josie?”
The question caught me off-guard, and then he looked up, and he was staring right into my eyes, like he could see inside me. There were a lot of reasons why I wanted to train. I’d been helpless back there. It was something to focus on when everything had either been pulled out from underneath me or destroyed right in front of me.
I took a deep breath and I gave him the main reason, the one that sucked to say out loud. “I don’t want to be afraid, and I’m scared to death. If I can fight, I won’t be so afraid.”
His amber eyes flared brightly for a moment, and then he placed my hand on my knee. Letting go, he rose fluidly. “You’ll still be afraid, Josie.”
Well, that was helpful. “I thought you were leaving.”
He reached over my head, grabbing a hand towel. “You sound eager to get rid of me now.”
Pressing my lips together, I said nothing at first, because that was far from the truth. I didn’t want him to leave, but I couldn’t stop him from going. I shook my head. “You don’t need to do this…” I waved my hand, indicating the bathroom. “I’m fine. I can clean myself up.”
“Are you wearing anything under that sweater?” he asked, ignoring me.
“Um…” I swallowed. “Yeah, a tank top. Why?”
He shifted, turning on the faucet. “Take it off.”
“What?” My voice pitched high.
With the damp towel in hand, he was kneeling in front of me again. “I need to look at your neck again. It was bleeding earlier. You wouldn’t let me do it on the road, so let me do it now,” he said, and I opened my mouth to tell him hell to the no, but he spoke again. “Please.”
I don’t know why that single word held so much power over me, but it did, and besides, I wasn’t naked underneath. Grabbing the hem, I tugged the ruined sweater over my head, flinching at the movements. I dropped it on the floor.
Seth’s gaze stayed on my face before dipping to my neck. His lips parted in a rough exhale. I clasped my hands again as he slipped a finger under the thin strap of my cami. I jerked when he grazed my skin. The soft caress rippled over my body in a way that was kind of embarrassing.
He halted, his gaze flicking to mine. “Did I hurt you?”
My cheeks heated. There was something wrong with me. The last thing I should have been feeling was any kind of arousal. “No,” I whispered.
He held my gaze a moment longer, and then gently placed the towel against my neck, where Hyperion’s nails had sliced into my skin. It didn’t hurt, but I had to hold myself still. “My last name is Diodoros.”
I blinked. “Dio-what?”
A soft laugh came from him as he tossed the dirtied towel into the tub and wet a fresh one. “Diodoros.”
I had no idea how to even begin to spell it, but somehow I knew not many people in this world, if any, knew this about him. It was in the way he said it, his voice gruff and raw. He was sharing something personal, and he’d chosen me to share that with. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to cherish that fact, hold it close.
“You know what it means in Greek? ‘Gift of Zeus,’” he continued, sliding the towel to the top of my cami, wiping up dried blood and dirt. “That’s the height of irony.”
My breath caught as the cloth dipped lower than my shoulder, the edges brushing over the swell of my breast, and thank God I had a bra on under the cami, because I could feel my nipples hardening, and that was just beyond embarrassing. It had to be the trauma of today. Okay. That was an excuse.
“Why?” I finally asked.
“Because I’m more like a pain in the ass to Zeus than a gift.” He sighed, rocking back on his heels as he lifted his gaze. “The cuts aren’t deep and he didn’t tag you like the daimons did, but I saw him. He was going for your aether too. Did you feel anything?”
“It hurt.” The reminder of how that felt grounded my butt back in reality. “Like he was pulling something out from deep inside me, just as bad as when the daimons got me.”
He said nothing as he moved the towel along my face, wiping up what felt like a week’s worth of dirt. Then he tossed the second towel and took my hand again. Hauling me up, he placed his other hand on my hip when I stumbled. A heartbeat passed as our gazes locked.
We were standing toe to toe in the bathroom, barely any space between us. His chin was tipped down and mine stretched up. It felt like we were about to dance, which was silly to imagine. I don’t know why I did what I did next, but it seemed natural to do so, and I was so tired, so emotionally spent, that I didn’t really think about it.
Closing my eyes, I leaned in and rested my cheek against his chest, right above his heart. Seth stiffened like he’d turned into one of those marble statues I’d seen earlier. His chest rose sharply, and I held my breath, waiting for him to shove me away.
But he didn’t.
Seth’s hand slipped off my hip and made its way to the center of my back. He also dropped my hand, loosely circling his arm around my shoulders. My breath hitched as I placed my hands on his waist. A long moment passed and he dropped his chin to the top of my head, and while that seemed like it wasn’t a big deal, my chest squeezed.
His arms tightened just a fraction as he cleared his throat. “One of the first things they teach you when you’re training is to never let your opponent get a good grip on you or get you on your back.”
A shiver rolled down my spine. “The daimons got me on my back. Hyperion…well, he didn’t get me on my back. He sort of just lifted me up with one hand.”
“And there’s that.” His hand slid up, tangling in my hair as his fingers curled around the nape of my neck. “I’m going to train you.”
At first I didn’t think I heard him correctly. I started to pull back, but he held onto me. “What?”
“I don’t know if your father will show up and send me off somewhere else,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “If he does, I won’t be able to deny him.”
My mind was racing. “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. These are my rules if you want me to train you. You have to agree to listen to me and not to whine when it gets hard, because it will get hard, Josie. You think your body hurts now? You haven’t seen anything yet. You’re going to hurt. You’re going to want to stop, but you’re not going to be able to.” He pulled my head back, and our eyes met. “I’m going to own you through this process.”