“That traitorous little wench…”
“I’m sure you couldn’t possibly mean me.”
Hades whipped around to find a Fate sitting on his altar, her legs crossed, her diaphanous robe hanging off her lithe and wrinkled body to float to the blackened floor. Annoyance at the interruption and bitter hatred for the creature who screwed with his life vied for his attention. “You are a wench of another kind.”
Lachesis smiled, the bitch, but it faded quickly when she said, “And you violated our agreement.”
He rested his hands on his hips. She was talking about her precious hero. Like he fucking cared about Orpheus right now. “I did no such thing. The weasel’s still alive, isn’t he?”
“Yes, no thanks to you.” She tipped her head. “Hades, I shouldn’t have to remind you, you cannot send hellhounds to kill him. We made a deal.”
“My hellhounds are the ones who are dead.”
“And rightly so. But that doesn’t change the fact you tried to destroy him. And while I’m at it, I’ll remind you that you cannot kill Maelea either.”
No shit, which pissed him off even more. He dropped back onto his throne and looked past her to the window beyond, irritated to the nth degree that he had to deal with her shit now. All the gods hated the Fates, but none more than him. Especially her, because she came here with conditions no immortal should be able to demand, especially in his damn realm. “I wasn’t after the fucking stain.”
She slid off the altar, floated across the ground. A petite creature he’d like to backhand into eternity. Only he didn’t dare. Because like it or not, the Fates were stronger than any god. Not fallen angels like him and the other gods, but the real deal. The Creator’s right hand…wenches.
“You’re afraid he’s going to succeed.”
He scoffed. He wasn’t afraid Orpheus was going to succeed. He just didn’t want the moron to muck up his plans for the Orb before the so-called hero crashed and burned.
He cut his glare from the window to her. “Your precious hero won’t succeed at anything. No matter what I do to him, his true colors will reveal themselves soon enough. A soul cannot be changed. And a black one is black for all eternity, Lachesis. I know that better than anyone.”
“Not even the daemon you cursed him with has turned him completely, Hades. There is good in him still.”
“Very little. Let’s not forget he stole the air element from Zeus in the first place. That in his second chance at life—a chance you insisted he deserved—he’s fucked with the Orb more times than I can count. It might look like he’s doing good, but he’s only out for himself. And as soon as he finds the Orb again, you’ll see how little good there is left in him.”
She held his gaze a long beat, a beady-eyed stare that boiled the blood in his veins and made him dream of vengeance. Of getting his hands on the Orb once and for all and showing her the true meaning of power and just what she could do with her meddling.
“Do not send your hounds after Orpheus again,” she warned. “I will strike them down if you do. And instead of worrying about my hero, perhaps you should turn your attention to your wife. She plots against you.”
A wicked smile curled his mouth. “I know. Ain’t it grand?”
Lachesis didn’t answer. Only faded to nothing until he was once more alone in his temple.
His humor died. As much as he admired Persephone’s ruthlessness, his own wife would not beat him at this game.
“Orcus!” He pushed out of his chair again as plans and options whipped like a tornado through his mind. “Where is that little bastard?”
By the time Orcus dragged his lame leg into the room, Hades was pacing the blackened stones, thinking through every step. “Yes, my lord.”
“Find my wife.”
“But Maelea—”
“Forget the stain for now. I’m more concerned with what Persephone’s up to. Find her and follow her and report back her every move.”
“You think she knows something, my lord?”
“I think she knows everything. And while you’re at it, find out what Tantalus discovered in Sin City. I want to know what my father is plotting with Atalanta.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The creature ducked his head, slithered out of the room. And alone, Hades clenched his jaw. It shouldn’t be this hard to keep everyone in line. They were all plotting against him, wrestling for control of something none of them deserved. His father, his brothers, the Fates…even his precious little wife.
Of course, that plotting and deal making behind the scenes would make it all the more enjoyable when he finally had the Orb, wouldn’t it? And when everyone—the meddling Fates included—finally bowed to him for good.
It was after midnight by the time Orpheus made it back to the colony. He fully expected Maelea and Skyla to be sacked out somewhere, but he didn’t care if he had to yank the Siren from a deep sleep. She was going to tell him what the hell was going on.
Isadora and Casey were sitting in the grand hall on the fifth floor of the castle sipping tea when he and the others stepped off the elevator. Enormous stone pillars rose around the outskirts of the room, separating the living space from the hallway. Isadora’s face brightened when she saw Demetrius at Orpheus’s back. “How did it go?”
“Good,” Nick answered.
“Piece of cake,” Theron grinned, walking around the couch to sit on the armrest near Casey and pull her close. She smiled up at him and leaned in as he kissed her temple. “Those Sirens don’t have a clue what hit them.”
“And we’re sure Zeus can’t link them back to us?” Isadora asked.
“Nothing’s a hundred percent certain, kardia,” Demetrius said, sitting in the chair next to her, “but those Sirens aren’t going to remember anything. When they wake up though…” His voice trailed off as he looked to Nick.
“When they wake up, what?” Isadora asked.
Nick scratched the back of his head and shot his brother a keep your trap shut look. “Nothing. They’ll just be wondering what the hell happened, that’s all.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?” Isadora asked.
Because there was. Nick hadn’t informed Isadora his guys were leaving the Sirens with a Titan. Even though a few hadn’t been condemned to Tartarus with the others at the end of the Titanomachy and still roamed the earth, Zeus hated them with a passion. If Isadora knew they’d left the Sirens with one just to screw with the King of the Gods, she’d be less than thrilled. In fact, she’d be irate. Orpheus wasn’t getting in the middle of this one.
“Where’s Maelea?” he asked.
“Upstairs.” Isadora set her tea on the coffee table. “Asleep.”
“And the Siren?”
“She said something about needing air,” Casey answered.
Disbelief rippled through Orpheus. “You let her leave?”
“No.” Isadora pushed to her feet. “She’s still here. The guards know to keep a lookout for her.”
“Take the elevator to the top floor,” Nick said to Orpheus. “There are a number of turrets and towers on the south end that no one uses because of the wind. If she wanted privacy, that’s where you’ll find her. I’ll double-check with the guards and make sure she didn’t pull anything funny.”
That thought didn’t put Orpheus at ease. There were measures taken when outsiders visited the colony, steps to make sure they couldn’t find their way back. Skyla couldn’t leave on her own now unless she was escorted out. But knowing her, if she’d suddenly decided to split, she could have seduced any one of those dumb guards to get free. And they would have fallen for her seduction skills a hell of a lot faster than he had.