Orpheus had gotten used to people being afraid of him. Most of the time he relished it. But the stark shot of fear in Skyla’s eyes as she stared at him across the snow hit him dead center in the chest in a way that not only knocked him for a loop, it pissed him off. Especially after he’d just saved her life.
He pocketed the earth element, stalked toward her, and tried to ignore the fact some small part of him cared what she thought. As he worked to calm the daemon inside, he realized he should be glad he was having such trouble. It meant his daemon was back. And judging from what he’d spotted in the woods behind Skyla, he knew he’d need that daemon sooner rather than later.
Confident his eyes had returned to their normal color, he stopped in front of her, gave her a quick once-over. She’d found a coat at least, but he didn’t miss the bandage near her right temple and the purple and black bruise bleeding out from beneath it. Yeah, she was alive, but if she hadn’t run from him in the corridor of their railcar in the first place, she wouldn’t have been trapped in that avalanche. Wouldn’t have that wound now. Wouldn’t be looking more shell-shocked than confident as she stared up at him.
Guilt was another thing he’d gotten used to over the years. But he pushed it down as he’d learned to do and looked past her to the humans beyond. “Where’s Maelea?”
“I…I haven’t seen her. I thought you knew where she was.”
“She sensed the earthquake before it hit. I was able to get her off the train and away from danger. I left her on the tracks with a group of humans before going back.” To find you.
When she didn’t answer, only continued to stare at him as if he had three heads, he gripped her arm at the elbow, turned her toward the others, and started walking. “We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“A hellhound problem.”
Skyla scanned the forest. “Where?”
“About a hundred yards past the last railcar, down the tracks. I counted at least three.”
“They travel in packs of five.”
“I know.”
The fifty or so humans who’d survived the avalanche were about to meet a death they couldn’t even imagine. Bloodbath wasn’t a term Orpheus used lightly, but that’s exactly what would happen if he didn’t do something to stop it.
They reached the last railcar. The wheels were dislodged from the tracks but the car still stood upright. Darkness loomed beyond the wreckage, towering trees and mountains, a mixture of inky darkness and shadows eerily lit by the moon high above. And far off in the distance, a red glow that flickered and disappeared.
“Are you up for a little hunting?” he asked, still looking out at the snow-covered trees.
“Get me to my armor and I’m with you. What about Maelea?”
At least the Siren sounded normal again. He headed around the end of the last car, then back up the other side, where they had a modicum of privacy. “Let’s hope she wasn’t stupid enough to run off by herself.”
They reached their sleeping car, which was still upright too. The cars on both sides had separated, the door of the car behind butted up against their stateroom window—the one he’d pulled open so he and Maelea could escape. He planted a foot on the mangled car at his side for leverage as he climbed up and dropped into their wrecked stateroom.
A chair lay on its side, pillows from the top berth were scattered about, and Skyla’s armor was strewn over the floor. As Skyla climbed through the window, he reached out to her, slid his hands around her waist, and helped her jump down from the sill. The long, lean line of her body pressed against his as she gripped his shoulders and eased to the floor.
For a moment he remembered their little bet. What he’d wanted to do to her out in the corridor. His blood warmed. His pulse picked up speed. When her gaze flicked to his and her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, he knew she felt it too.
She took a quick step back. Broke the contact. Moved to pick up her armor. “What’s the plan?”
War strategy. She had an easier time talking about that than the attraction still simmering between them. But could he blame her? It was a helluva lot easier for him to think about how to kick some hellhound ass rather than the kiss she’d laid on him out in the snow. The one that was still smoking through the toes in his boots.
He pushed his hands into his pockets, fingered the earth element as she took off her coat, tied the garment around her waist, then strapped on the breastplate and arm guards. Man, she was sexy. All long legs and willowy curves. Built, obviously, to seduce. But he liked that about her. Because it meant when this thing between them eventually burned out, he’d have no regrets about whatever came next.
“I was thinking we’d lure them out with my daemon,” he said. “You wait in the trees until we’ve got them all. I take down what I can, you swoop in and get the rest.”
She turned his way, her golden hair waving behind her as she moved. “Are you sure your daemon will come out and play this time?”
“Sweetheart, my daemon’s ready to play anytime, anywhere. Just say the word and he’ll be there.”
“Hm.” She stepped over the chair, crossed to the small bathroom door. “I’ll feel better about that when I see it for myself.”
“A pregame warm up? Siren, you surprise me.” He reached for the button on his jeans. “I’m not sure we have time, but I’m ready to give it a try if you are.”
She huffed an exasperated sound as she grasped the handle of the door, pulled it open. “Get real.”
He smiled because he knew he’d gotten under her skin.
A scream echoed through the small space.
Skyla let go of the handle and jumped back, the dagger strapped to her lower back already in her hand.
Orpheus rushed over, peered around the corner into the bathroom, and spotted Maelea crouching on the floor with his blade in her hand.
“Holy Hades.” He reached in and grasped the girl by the shoulders, hauling her up and out of the bathroom. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“What the hell do you think I was doing?” She wriggled out of his grip, dropped down on the lower berth, breathing heavy. “There are hounds out there.”
Skyla moved to Orpheus’s side, slid her blade back in its sheath. “We saw them. We were wondering what happened to you.”
“I heard noises outside so I hid in the bathroom,” Maelea said. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“No, you’re not,” Orpheus said. “You were smart to hide.”
She glared at him. “What other choice did I have? Run? Then Hades would have exactly what he wants. He hasn’t paid me any mind in all this time, but since you came after me, twice now I’ve had to run from his underlings. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Orpheus’s spine stiffened because what she said was true. That guilt he’d gotten good at ignoring came back tenfold.
“Maelea—” Skyla started.
Maelea tossed Orpheus’s knife to the floor, pulled her legs up to her chest, and curled into herself. Conversation done.
Skyla looked at Orpheus and tapped her wrist with her index finger, indicating they didn’t have time for this.
“We’re going to take care of the hounds,” Orpheus told her. She didn’t answer. “You’d be wise to stay here until we come back and get you.”
Still nothing from her.
When long seconds passed without an answer, he finally glanced to Skyla again, who nodded toward the open window and the hellhounds that waited for them.
“We’ll be back for you, Maelea,” he said as he climbed out the window and helped Skyla to the ground. “Sit tight.”
“Where else would I go?” Maelea muttered with a wicked bite as they walked away. “All I have left is this holding cell you created for me.”