His chest vibrated with a thousand emotions. He grasped the shirt he’d just put on, tugged it over his head, and dropped it on a chair. The bed was standard hospital fare—single and barely wide enough for one, let alone two—but her temperature had cooled when he’d held her before. He hoped now that the infection was gone, whatever connection they had would somehow cool her even more.
He climbed into the bed, rolled to his side, and tugged the blanket over them both. She didn’t open her eyes, but she shifted his direction and curled into him. And when he wrapped his arms around her, the sigh that escaped her lips was like the sweetest, softest, most beautiful music he’d ever heard.
In that moment, everything made sense. She wasn’t just the second half of his soul. She was so much more. Their fates were tangled together, and he knew somewhere deep inside that she was destined for more than just being used as a pawn by the gods. She was destined for greatness.
An odd tingle started in his chest. His whole life centered around duty, around his service to the Argonauts, but she was changing his priorities. And he had an ominous feeling if she asked him, he’d go to the ends of the earth for her.
Even if it meant forsaking his Argonaut brothers to do so.
Chapter Eleven
Zagreus paced the living room of Epimetheus’s home in the wilds of Arizona and looked out at the early morning orange-and-pink sky swirling behind angry red mountains.
This place was in the middle of freakin’ nowhere. He had no idea how the elder god lived way out here in the sticks with no one around for miles and didn’t lose his fucking mind.
“Here, here.” Epimetheus rushed into the room, holding a silver tray set with a delicate china teapot, two cups, and saucers. He set it on the coffee table. “I brewed it fresh.”
Stringy silver hair pulled free from the tie at Epimetheus’s nape, falling forward over his wrinkled face. He wore a tan garment that looked like a muumuu over black pants. Bare feet with brittle, too-long, yellowish toenails peeked out from the cuffs. He pushed the wire-rimmed glasses back up his nose, poured steaming liquid into one dainty cup, and handed it to Zagreus. Zagreus lifted one brow as he gazed down at the pale green liquid.
Epimetheus poured his own cup, smiled, then took a sip. When Zagreus only stared at him, he gestured with his hand. “Drink, drink. Sweet nectar from the gods.” Then, under his breath, “and the local goat.”
Forget what he’d thought. Epimetheus had already lost his fucking mind.
Zagreus set the cup down untouched and waited until the god situated his frail body on the plastic-covered couch. “I want to know about a redhead. Otherworldly. Great power. A mark in the shape of a triangle on the back of her neck.”
Epimetheus swirled the liquid in his cup. “A female, did you say? Don’t you have enough females?”
“How many I have and what I do with them are my business, not yours.”
“It is, it is.” Epimetheus eased back his seat. “I meant no disrespect.”
Zagreus ground his teeth. Epimetheus might be an elder god, but he was as docile as a flower, and as dumb. He was, however, one of the oldest beings on the planet, which was the only reason Zagreus was here now.
“A triangle, you say? Did you see it up close?”
“No. From a distance. When she turned, her hair flew over her shoulder. Do any of the gods bear that symbol?”
Epimetheus chewed on his lip. Abruptly, he set his tea on the coffee table and jumped to his feet. Then he rushed out of the room without a word.
Just like a cat.
Zagreus brushed his duster back and perched his hands on his hips. The sounds of papers crinkling and books clapping echoed from the next room.
He didn’t have time for this. He should be back at his compound, showing those nymphs just what happened to those who tried to leave him. As it was, he’d left Lykon in charge. And though he’d told the satyr the nymphs were not to be touched in his absence, he knew Lykon’s control would snap before long.
However, that girl—the marking—had been too alluring to ignore. And the power he’d felt from her…
He’d made a deal with his father, but this might turn out to be way more lucrative.
He tapped his hand against his thigh. Ran his fingers down the soul patch under his lip. From the direction of the hall, Epimetheus called, “Was the triangle skewed? Upside down? Did it have any other markings through or around it?”
Where the hell was the old fart? “No,” he called. “Point up. No other markings, lines or shapes.”
Several minutes went by in silence. Zagreus stepped toward the door, wondering if the elder god had gotten a hair up his ass and split.
Epimetheus appeared as if from nowhere and thrust a book into Zagreus’s face. “I found it!”
“Holy Hera, old man.” Zagreus lurched back. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry. Sorry.” Epimetheus brushed past and set the open book on the coffee table, then pointed at the page. “Like this?”
Zagreus crossed the floor and looked down. The simple triangle was in the center of a page filled with other ordinary geometric shapes. “Yes.”
“The triangle has many connotations. In Western society, it represents the Trinity. The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. It’s often drawn to show the number three. It can be linked to time—past, present, and future. To the metaphysical world—spirit, mind and body. Occultists use the triangle as a summoning symbol. It’s often contained in a circle in these cases. Point up can also indicate strength and stability. Or the presence of male energy. Point down—”
Zagreus clenched his jaw. “What about in our world?”
“Oh, well. In our world, there are many indications for the triangle. But point up”—He flipped the page. Four triangles filled the empty space. Two up, two down. One point-up triangle was empty. The other had a line drawn through it perpendicular to the base—“indicates either water or fire.”
Zagreus stepped closer to the book. All four triangles were marked. One for each symbol of the four main elements—earth, air, water, and fire.
A tickle started in his belly, grew with strength and infused him with excitement. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Epimetheus stared over his glasses with a blank expression. “Saying what? Am I saying something?”
Holy shit. The elder god didn’t even realize what they’d found. The female was—
A knock sounded. Epimetheus jerked that direction, his beady eyes growing wide. A grin split his face. “More visitors! I don’t know what to do with myself!”
Zagreus could think of a thing or two, but he held his tongue. Picking up the book, he studied the symbols and ancient Greek text in the sidebar. “Get rid of them.”
Epimetheus waved his arms and shuffled toward the hall. “I’ll have to make more tea. Oh, but this is turning out the be quite the morning!”
Zagreus moved through the archway and into the dining room where he wouldn’t be seen. Voices echoed from the front of the rustic house. Several. Male. Epimetheus’s excitement echoed off the walls.
Dumb shit. Couldn’t follow a simple order. Luckily, though, he was harmless. Which was the only reason Zeus let him wander out here in the sticks and didn’t bother much with him.
Grinding his teeth, Zagreus looked down at the book. “Fire is the strongest and most powerful element, but it is also the one with the least endurance. One of the four classic elements, it can be separated into two types—Aidêlon (destructive fire), and Aidês (benevolent fire). The most fundamental of all the elements, fire can give rise to the other elements if manipulated correctly.”