“And what if they won’t? As far as they know, the hybrid is one of them.”
“They will. Especially when you tell them what he really is.”
“And what of her?” Sappheire nodded toward the door Skyla had just exited.
“Follow her. And report back to me what she and the hybrid are doing.”
“You think she’s compromised.”
Athena chose her worlds carefully. “I think it’s possible Skyla is letting emotions rule her actions.”
“And if you’re right?”
Loyalty was a sacred trait that couldn’t be taught. But even to the gods, self-preservation trumped loyalty by a long shot. “Then you and I both know what has to be done.”
Orpheus had been in a piss-poor mood ever since the blond with the hypnotizing violet eyes had ditched him three nights ago in her apartment. He’d replayed the events over in his mind and only two things were clear.
One, she was definitely otherworldly. Even if she hadn’t poofed right out of his arms, he’d have known it from the mind-blowing sex they’d had in her hall. Human females didn’t blow his mind. Argolean females either. He’d even slept with a few goddesses in his many years and not even they’d rocked his world the way Skyla had. He tried to ignore the fact she was the only one who’d ever flipped him end over end like that, but couldn’t.
He had to get the female out of his head. The only thing that really mattered—and the second point that was clear to him—was that the sex obviously hadn’t been as earth-shattering for her as it had been for him. Evidenced by the way she’d run like the wind as soon as it was over.
Whatever. He didn’t care. Skata, he shouldn’t even be thinking of her anyway. He had more important things on his mind. Like locating that damn Maelea creature, the one he’d let get away the night he’d met Skyla. The witches in Argolea had told him she could sense energy shifts on earth. If that sonofabitch warlock Apophis was using the Orb’s energy, Maelea would be able to feel it. And she’d be able to tell Orpheus right where the slimy piece of shit was hiding.
He stayed in the shadows of the ritzy Lake Washington neighborhood he’d tracked Maelea to. Two nights of waiting and she hadn’t returned to the small town of Auburn, Washington, where the concert had taken place. But he’d lucked out when he overheard a conversation in a bar between two human males about the weird black-haired woman who routinely hung out at the death-metal concerts. What she’d been doing with the metalheads, Orpheus still didn’t know. But he wasn’t about to question a streak of luck, especially not when the waitress told him Maelea had mentioned living somewhere near Lake Washington in the Laurelhurst area.
He’d spent the last night running reconnaissance and he was pretty sure which house was hers. The daemon inside him could sense the light and dark warring within her. The new moon cast not a hint of light as he hid in the shadows and waited for the streetlights to go out. At this time of night—nearly two a.m.—not a soul was awake, but in this rich area, he knew neighbors looked out for one another. And a six-foot-six, two-hundred-seventy-pound stranger lurking in the shadows would draw attention he didn’t need.
He shook off the feeling he was being watched, crept up the empty drive with its manicured hedge and towering trees blocking out the other houses. The property was a sprawling four acres right on the waterfront. Prime real estate he had no doubt Maelea had purchased back when land in the Seattle area was cheap. He briefly wondered how she kept her neighbors from asking questions about her ageless appearance, then brushed it aside. No doubt she kept to herself. He couldn’t exactly see her at the neighborhood picnic, getting chummy with the local mom’s club.
He moved around the back of the house, felt the daemon in him stir. Yeah, she was definitely in there. He could feel the blackness of her soul, along with that same odd light from Olympus.
Man, that would suck. Light and dark warring together within, never letting one get the upper hand, never giving the bearer any kind of relief. And he thought he had it bad.
The back patio curved outward, covered by a trellis of climbing ivy. He picked his way around patio furniture and up the three cement steps to peer in the back window of the house.
“Rethink that move, daemon.”
He froze. Knew that voice. For some reason wasn’t surprised to hear it here, now.
Slowly he turned and peered through the dark with his enhanced sight toward the woman who’d rocked his world just three nights before.
Correction—not a woman. Dressed in what looked like some ancient Spartan fighting gear with…shit, a very familiar symbol stamped on the breastplate…Skyla’s affiliation suddenly made sense.
He turned back to peer into the house. No lights. Nothing moved. No sign anyone but a ghost lived here. “I was wondering when you’d show up again.”
“I thought I warned you to steer clear of this.”
“Well, lucky for you I never do as I’m told.” He glanced inside the window ledge at the LED that indicated an alarm system was turned on. “And at my age, I don’t plan to start now.” He took a step back, looked up at the second-floor window. Still no lights.
“I—”
“I’ve been trying to figure out what you are. We both know you’re not human, though you put on a good act. You’re definitely not a god. I’d have picked up on that right away. You aren’t a Grace or a Muse—not enough class. For a minute I thought nymph.” He shot her a look, from the swell of her breasts pressing up behind that leather breastplate to the knee-high black boots showcasing her shapely legs. “You screw like one.”
A disgusted look crossed her features. Was that jealousy? No, not from her.
He turned back to the house. “Then I realized there was only one creature built like an X-rated Barbie doll able to kick a daemon’s ass.” He dropped the humor. “Tell your boss Zeus to go fuck himself.”
“Cy—”
He didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. He flashed inside the house, turned to look at her through the window. Her shocked expression said she hadn’t expected he could flash through walls.
Get used to surprises, sweetheart. I sure have.
He shot her a salute and turned for the front of the house. In the entryway he stopped. Listened. His oversensitive hearing picked up one heartbeat. One even breathing pattern.
He grasped the old oak banister, climbed the curved stairs toward the second floor. The creak of wood behind him stopped his feet and brought his head around.
“Orpheus,” Skyla whispered. “Rethink this move.”
Skata. How the hell had she gotten past the security system?
“Look, lady,” he said in an equally low whisper. “I know you’ve got a hard-on for me and all, but it wasn’t that great. I’m not interested anymore.”
She might be trained by the gods themselves, but she didn’t hide the sting his words inflicted as quickly as she should have. For a tiny second he regretted saying them. Then the feeling fled.
“If you’re determined to drag her into this, go ahead,” she whispered in a hard tone. “But I’ll not let you hurt her.”
As if he cared. He reached the second floor and looked right and left. The door at the end of the hall was open. He headed that way. Paused outside. Peered past the door into what looked like a bedroom suite that ran from one end of the house to the other.
The bed along the wall was empty. To his left, lights from windows that looked out at the street streamed into the room. From the right, dots of illumination peppered the darkened windows at the back of house. Ahead, a door that had to lead to a bathroom was cracked just an inch. And though he couldn’t see her, he sensed Maelea close. Hiding like the ghoul she’d become.