And Isadora couldn’t help it. She grinned. Oh, these stupid males and their twisted sense of heroics. Demetrius had tried that protective bologna on her and look how well that had kept her away. Judging from the headstrong Siren blocking the doorway, there was no way Orpheus was getting out of here without her.
And knowing that, Isadora’s estimation of the Siren went way, way up.
“Go back to bed, Siren,” he growled.
“I would,” she tossed back, “but it was suddenly too cold for my liking. Lucky for me I found these clothes in a box up there. What do you think?”
Demetrius and Isadora exchanged glances, and from her soul mate’s what the hell? expression she knew he was noticing their connection too.
“I couldn’t care less about what you wear,” Orpheus ground out, “and I don’t need or want you or your help.”
Skyla didn’t answer. Only smiled sweetly, which, Isadora guessed from Orpheus’s locked-jaw reaction, was way out of character for her.
Orpheus looked at Demetrius. “Are you ready or what?”
“Ask him if Maelea told him where the entrance to Underworld is located,” Skyla said to Isadora.
“Fuck,” Orpheus muttered.
Skyla grinned wider. “No thanks, daemon. Not right now. Maybe later, though.”
To Isadora, Orpheus said, “Go get Maelea for me, would you?”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Skyla said. “She doesn’t know where the entrance is. And this time I’m not lying. Persephone purposely hasn’t told her for safety reasons. It’s common knowledge if she crosses into the Underworld to see her mother, Hades has the right to strike her down. On earth she’s safe.”
Orpheus’s shoulders tightened but he didn’t look away from Isadora. “Who else do we know who might know how to get to the Underworld?”
“No one,” Isadora answered, not sure she wanted to be stuck in the middle of this. “I mean, I’ve heard rumors of the Bermuda Triangle, but—”
“Good luck finding that,” Skyla muttered. “How long are you willing to search, daemon? It could take days, weeks, months even. Think he’s got months left in him?”
She was talking about Gryphon, and from the fury in Orpheus’s eyes it was clear he didn’t like her bullying her way in. Skyla didn’t look the least intimidated by him, though. The tension in the room kicked the temperature up a good three degrees.
“You’re not going,” Orpheus said. “You’ll slow me down. I don’t have time to hop a plane.”
“You don’t have to. Unlike Maelea or your Argonauts, Sirens can flash on earth, just like you. Though I’m definitely jealous of the flashing-through-walls thing.” She grinned. “Get used to the fact I’m going with you, daemon. It’s called follow-through. You taught me all about follow-through.”
“Motherfucking sonofabitch,” Orpheus muttered as he headed for the door.
Skyla shot Isadora another grin and then followed.
As boots echoed across the gleaming hardwood, Demetrius reached for Isadora’s hand. “Kardia—”
“Don’t worry.” She squeezed his fingers, loving that he reached for her even though the others were technically still in the room. Maybe there was hope he would slowly come around after all. Maybe it was a sign he was giving up this fool’s idea she’d be better off with his brother. “I’ll have Casey and Theron take me home with them. Go. Just whatever you do, be careful.”
“I will.” He lowered his head, pressed a swift, warm, gone-way-too-fast kiss to her lips. His hand grazed her belly and warmth shot up from the spot, spread through her ribs and chest and encircled her heart. “Take care of my daughter.”
“Son,” she countered, grinning like a fool because it was the first time he’d called their baby anything but “it.”
“Let’s hope not.” He kissed her again, then pulled back. And in his dark, mesmerizing eyes, heat pooled. A heat that would have to sustain her at least a little while longer. “We’ll finish this when I get back.”
“You bet that cute ass of yours we will, Argonaut.”
He cast her a devilishly handsome smile as he followed the others out of the room.
Alone, Isadora wrapped her arms around her waist and sighed. She hated lying to him, but if he knew she had no plans to go back to Argolea right now he’d never leave. And for his own mental well-being, he needed to be with Orpheus and help save Gryphon.
When their footfalls turned to silence, she blew out another breath, closed her eyes and focused, drawing on the internal power of the Horae, the ancient goddesses of balance and wisdom. The winged omega marking on her inner thigh heated and vibrated, and she knew the markings each of her sisters shared were vibrating as well. As the ancient power flowed through her, she triggered that internal communication system she and her two sisters had been perfecting over the last few months.
Demetrius might want her to go home, and Orpheus might not want her help, but neither was getting what he wanted right now. This was bigger than both of them. This was bigger than them all.
The mountain air was thick and muggy, the result of a warm front that had moved through the area. As Skyla stood in the shadow of a large palm tree, she glanced toward Orpheus, deep in conversation with Demetrius ten feet away.
He’d barely said two words to her since they’d flashed to Corinth. And though a part of her was a little peeved over that fact—especially considering what they’d done to each other only hours ago—Skyla couldn’t help but be impressed. Orpheus knew how to blend in with human society. He barely seemed fazed by cities or technology or unknown terrains. And that, she supposed, was how he’d survived so long, hiding in the shadows, crossing back and forth between worlds, tormenting the gods whenever the opportunity arose.
A small part of her liked that about him. Liked that he didn’t give a shit what people—or gods—thought of him. And this new infatuation had nothing to do with the fact he was sexy as all get-out in those jeans that hugged his ass and that tight black button-down that accentuated his muscles. Or that he had a hard look about him, one that screamed badass to the core. What intrigued her were the inconsistencies in this image he worked so hard to portray. The moments of gentleness he’d never cop to. The concern he hid from those around him. The worry she knew he felt for his brother but wouldn’t discuss.
That was the real Orpheus. Not the daemon he wanted her to think defined him. Not the troublemaker he wanted the world to see. More and more, the word hero kept revolving in her mind whenever she looked at him. What she didn’t quite understand was why he couldn’t see it.
The word hero made her think of the lies Athena had told her, and before she could stop it her mind drifted to Olympus. Tension pulled at her chest. Zeus would not be happy when he found out she’d failed at her mission. If he sent other Sirens to finish the job as he had last time…
Orpheus stepped toward her. His jaw was scruffy, his gray eyes like polished granite in the sunlight. And though she could tell from his scowl he was trying to put distance between them after what had happened last night, the memory of his mouth, of his hands and tongue and what he could do to her with only a look heated her insides and drew all other thought from her mind. Zeus and Olympus and her future included.
She wanted him again. More than she had last night. And that was new for her. The last time she’d wanted someone had been thousands of years ago. When she’d been infatuated with Cynurus. Though they were technically the same…this was different. It was stronger. It was hotter. It consumed her on a level that wasn’t even close to the same.