He wanted to, but where would he go? Like it or not, he was stuck here. With Atalanta. His only hope at this point was that she’d continue to be satisfied with the degrading and humiliating things she made him do. If she wasn’t…
Bile pushed up into his chest. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if she wasn’t. Because for him, no matter what she plotted next, there was no escape.
Chapter 12
Kalispell, Montana, was the closest city to the accident. Rescue personnel loaded survivors into helicopters and airlifted them away from the wreckage. It took several hours, but by morning Orpheus eventually found himself in a town he didn’t recognize, with two females who were both shooting daggers his way anytime he caught their gazes.
Maelea, he got. The female hated him with a passion. She wasn’t happy about being with him—anywhere—and even though he and Skyla had succeeded in killing those hounds, Maelea didn’t seem reassured he could keep her safe. And her constant distrust as to where he was taking her grated on his last nerve.
And then there was the Siren. He glanced out the window of the car-rental office to the lot beyond, where Skyla and Maelea waited. The Siren had been hot as fire when he’d kissed her after dragging her from the wreckage of that avalanche. Then cool as ice since they’d killed the hounds. He couldn’t follow her mood swings. Didn’t know what the hell he’d done to piss her off this time. All he knew was he still wanted her. Common sense told him to be rid of her, but something in his chest said he wasn’t done with her yet.
“Focus, dumbass,” he muttered, turning back to sign the paperwork for the car.
The sales clerk looked up with a perturbed expression. “Excuse me?”
Great. Caught talking to himself. Fucking fabulous.
Since he frequented the human realm whenever the hell he wanted, he kept cash reserves here. Was familiar with how things worked. Even had a number of false identities, so he could skate through society when he needed. Pulling them off usually wasn’t a big deal. Unless he wasn’t paying attention. Like now.
He tried for a smile that came out more as a sneer. “Nothing. Is that it?”
The clerk folded the papers, slipped them in an envelope. “Yes. They’re bringing the car around now.”
“Perfect.”
Orpheus pushed the glass door open and crossed the frigid parking lot toward the females. The morning sun beat down on the piles of snow still littering the pavement, but as the temperature was near freezing, it did shit to warm anything up. Maelea still wore the coat they’d bought for her in Everett, had her arms folded across her stomach, her gaze directed to the pavement. Skyla, dressed in those stripper Siren boots, fitted black pants, and a jacket that all but swallowed her whole, stood at Maelea’s side, gnawing on the inside of her lip and glaring in his direction.
Such love. From both of them. They were obviously more than thankful he’d saved their lives. Why the hell hadn’t he just let them both die? There had to be an easier way to find that rat bastard Apophis. He didn’t need this grief.
He was all but ready to announce that when Skyla glanced from him to Maelea and back again. The look in her eyes was not one of anger or hatred, but jealousy.
The ground tilted beneath his feet. He felt the parking lot shift and twirl. And then he was standing in a room, large columns rising to a ceiling he couldn’t see, gold and marble and richly colored drapes and rugs filling the space. A woman was next to him, sitting in a chair, looking at a book. Her long red hair was pulled up on the sides and clipped at her crown, while the rest of the heavy mass fell down her back. She laughed, looked up, and smiled.
Pretty. She was pretty with that red hair and those shimmering green eyes. But he didn’t recognize her.
He leaned over her, pointed to something in the book. The woman placed her hand on his forearm and laughed again.
From his right, a sound echoed. Skyla stepped into the room wearing a long white gauzy dress tied at the waist with a gold sash. She looked from him to the woman, then back again. And before he could say anything, she disappeared the way she’d come in.
He wasn’t sure what the hell he was seeing. He was there, but he wasn’t. Watching it as if it were a movie, but seeing through the eyes of an actor. He felt himself floating through the corridor, following Skyla. She turned when she reached the wide front marble terrace. More columns lined the front of the building and down the twenty or so steps, a city lay beyond, tall mountains to the right and left, and water—an ocean of blue—as far as the eye could see.
“Skyla!”
She whipped around, shot him a scathing look. The same look she’d just sent him in the parking lot. The same look he’d gotten used to seeing this whole last day. “I thought you weren’t going to marry her.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what is she doing here?”
“Visiting. Her father sent her.”
“Visiting.” She all but vibrated with rage. And hurt. And jealousy. A jealousy that for reasons he couldn’t explain rocked him to his knees. “Fine. Then go to her.”
She turned, rushed down three steps before he grasped her by the arm and whipped her back to face him. “I don’t want her. I want you.”
“Why? She’s a princess. She’s exactly what they want you to have. All I am is—”
“Mine.” Her heat was intoxicating. Her body like a thirst he could never quench. He wanted to shake some sense into her. Hated that she’d think he’d want anyone but her. Didn’t she have eyes? “You’re mine, Siren. Just mine. Understand?”
“Orpheus?”
The steps, the view, the palace beneath his feet faded like a thinning mist. Orpheus blinked once, twice, shook his head to clear the fog. When focus came back he found himself in the parking lot, looking into the same gemlike eyes, only these weren’t soft and desire-filled as they’d been on those steps when he’d taken her into his arms. These were wary and confused and more than a little intimidating.
“What’s with you?” Skyla asked. “I’m the one that was nearly toasted. Twice. And you look like you have PTSD. See anything wrong with this picture?”
He had no idea what she was mumbling about. He heard her words but they didn’t register. He turned to Maelea for help, only the look she sent him said he was on his own. And from the way they were both staring at him as if he’d grown a third eye, he knew he’d just had another of those weird-ass visions.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuck. He rubbed both hands over his face. Tried like hell to settle the pounding of his heart. Didn’t even come close. What was happening to him?
“Orpheus?” Skyla said again. “Are you tripping on drugs or what?”
He wished.
He pressed his fingers into his temples until pain shot through his skull. “Just tired. I’m fine.”
Only he wasn’t. Even he knew he wasn’t fine. He was way the fuck freaked-out. Because that didn’t seem like a vision to him. There were emotions in there. Emotions still pinging around in his chest like a billiard ball bouncing off bumpers.
That had felt…like a memory.
Which was not fucking possible.
An engine purred, then the attendant pulled the SUV up, stopping at Orpheus’s left. Thankful for the distraction he reached for the keys, but Skyla was right there, taking them before he could.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“Driving. No way I’m getting in a moving vehicle with you when you’re lapsing into la-la land every few minutes.”