The redhead radiating warmth, even inches away from him, who was suddenly breathing like a racehorse in heat.
He looked down at her. And noticed her face was turning quickly from pink to red. “What’s wrong with you?”
Air. Tight. Can’t… She waved her hand as if she were having trouble breathing.
Confusion morphed to concern, and Titus pushed away from the window, grasped her by the sleeve again. “Uh, Callia?”
Callia’s footsteps echoed across the floor. “Let go of her, Titus.”
“Who is she?” Zander asked as Callia took her from Titus and led her toward a chair.
“Have a seat here.” Callia eased her into a chair Phin had pulled out for her. Titus watched as she bent forward and put her head between her knees, weird, raspy breathing sounds coming from her lips.
Callia knelt at her feet. “Look at me. That’s it. Slow breaths. I want you to draw in a breath then let it out while I count, not stopping until I get to four. Ready? Breathe in. Good, now let it out…one, two, three, four… Good. Again.”
The redhead focused on Callia’s eyes. Tried to follow directions. Her hands shook against her knees, and concern for her well-being—a concern that came out of nowhere—shot through Titus as he watched.
“Should I get a paper bag?” Isadora asked, coming to stand on Callia’s right.
“No. This is better. Sure and steady,” Callia said to the redhead. “One, two, three, four. Again.” Then to the rest of the group, “She’s having a panic attack. We just have to rebalance her oxygen and carbon dioxide levels. Good, you’re doing great. Now slow. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”
Slowly, the female’s breathing regulated and the pink tinge to her cheeks began to fade. Relief swept through Titus.
Callia smiled. “Better. Much better. Keep breathing, just like that.”
“Is she okay?” Casey asked.
The Argonauts were as quiet as Titus, watching and wondering who the hell she could be. And all seemed to be in awe of Callia’s calm handling of a situation none of them knew how to manage. Put them in a field full of daemons, and they knew exactly what needed to be done. Give them a hysterical female, and each one froze in fear.
“Yes, she’s going to be fine,” Callia said. “She just needs some space. It’s no wonder she had a panic attack in a room full of you guys. I’ve felt like freaking out while surrounded by the Argonauts myself on more than one occasion. Good, keep breathing. You’re doing perfect.”
Argonauts? The redhead lifted her eyes, looked around the room with wariness. But no other thoughts got through to Titus.
“Who is she?” Phin asked.
“That’s the question of the day,” Titus answered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and staring at her.
Her gaze shot in his direction, and though he couldn’t be sure, he thought he saw a spark there. A flare of…was that interest?
His blood warmed even as his brain screamed, Not a good idea. You don’t even know who or what she really is.
Theron looked his way, and Titus read the What are you picking up from her? thought in the Argonaut leader’s mind.
He tore his gaze from hers and looked to his guardian kin. “She wouldn’t answer any of my questions, just said she was a friend of Maelea’s. And I’m not getting anything to confirm one way or another.”
“I thought Maelea didn’t have any friends,” Demetrius said near the door.
“Yeah, bingo,” Titus answered, looking back at her.
Her breaths picked up speed. She didn’t break his gaze.
Callia pushed out of the crouch she’d been in and rested a reassuring hand on the female’s back. “You boys aren’t helping the situation. Theron, I need to take her down to the clinic. I want someone to check her out.”
“Titus will take her,” Theron answered. “Nick’s healers are good. You can check on her in a little while, Callia, but we need you here for a few minutes.”
That didn’t seem to appease Callia, but she nodded.
“T?” Theron asked.
“Yo.”
“You up to staying with her until we’re done here? I want to ask her a few questions, but first we need to figure out where the hell Gryphon is.”
“Sure. I’m up for it.” He was more than up for it. He had his own questions he wanted answered.
Callia helped the redhead out of the chair. When Titus reached for her other arm and his fingers pressed against her bare flesh, his head spun all over again. A hazy feeling settled in, leaving him loose and relaxed. Callia looked down at where he touched her, and concern dawned in her eyes before they shot to his.
Titus shook his head as the two helped the redhead toward the door, and conversation picked back up behind them. “Don’t ask,” he said. “I don’t have a clue what it means either.”
Casey turned toward Nick and Theron. “So we think we narrowed down where they might be—or at least where they were as of an hour ago. But Callia and I are both in agreement. It’s too much stress on Isadora to look again. It’s not good for her health or the health of the baby.”
“You guys,” Isadora protested, “I’m fine. Demetrius, tell them I’m fine.”
“Don’t look at me, kardia,” Demetrius said with a frown. “I’m with them. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t even be in the human realm right now.”
Callia glanced over the redhead’s curls toward Titus. “I’ll be down as soon as I can,”
He slipped an arm around the redhead’s waist to hold her up, liking the feel of her body against his way more than he expected. Really liking that high he was experiencing just from touching her. “Go. I’ve got her. I think this is an argument you need to be in on.”
“Thank you,” Callia whispered.
Callia let go, and the redhead leaned into Titus for support. Whether it was because she wanted to or needed him, he didn’t know. But man, that felt good. The heat of her body, the slide of her skin. And that sweet, floral scent mixing with his already foggy mind…Heaven.
As he led her through the massive gathering room with its soaring ceiling and gigantic fireplace toward the elevator, and the voices behind him dimmed with distance, he told himself this was a slippery slope to traverse. A female he could touch and who left him feeling high? Combined with the fact she was hotter than hell? If ever there was a temptation, she was it.
She balked when they neared the elevator.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I…no elevator. I can’t…”
Claustrophobic? That worked out good for him. It meant he got to enjoy the feel of her body pressed up to his even longer.
“Okay,” he said, his arm tightening around her, the heat of her body seeping deeper into his skin, igniting a burn in his flesh he’d missed more than he ever thought possible. “No elevator. We’ll take the stairs.”
He steered her toward a doorway at the end of the hall. “I’m Titus, by the way. I can either call you Thief or Panic Attack, unless you’ve got a name you’d rather I use.”
“Na-Natasa.”
He pushed the door to the stairwell open with his shoulder. “Natasa. That means ‘resurrection’ in Old Greek, doesn’t it?”
She didn’t answer. But one thought got through: Fuck.
Not that he wouldn’t like to. But there was a story there. One he needed to discover first. One some deep-buried instinct told him was going to mean something important. Soon.