She scrambled for the pack, found the keys in the front pocket. She also found the money he’d taken from that army surplus store, a handful of knives, and a few clothing items, which would undoubtedly come in handy when they got the heck out of here. Zipping the pack, she threw the strap over her shoulder and pushed to her feet, then reached down and grasped him by the arm, trying to help him up.
“I can’t carry you,” she said, grunting with the effort when she realized how heavy he was. “I can help, but I’ll need you to…help me back.”
He groaned and shifted, placed an arm on the bed, tried to push himself up. Fell back on his ass. It took three tries before she was able to slip an arm under his and use the strength in her legs to push them both up. His chest rose and fell as if he was having trouble breathing, and his eyes weren’t focusing. As the blanket fell from his body, she caught sight of the slash marks across his chest, bleeding profusely.
He needed stitches. He needed a doctor. Shit, what was she going to do with him?
Just get to the car. Just get to the car.
She turned for the small hall that led to the door, felt as if she was dragging deadweight. Gryphon braced a hand on the wall and tried to help her but did nothing more than shuffle his feet and slow them down. The muscles in her arms and legs screamed in protest as they moved. When she finally reached the threshold, she propped him against the wall and kicked wood and metal aside so he wouldn’t trip and drag her down.
“The bodies,” he managed. “We can’t…leave them like this.” His head fell back against the wall. His eyes slid closed. If she let go of him, she was sure he’d slump right to the floor like a rag doll.
“We don’t have time to worry about that.”
She bent to push a board out of the way. He pulled away from her hand pressing into his chest, holding him up. Startled, she looked back to see him heading into the room again, scrubbing his shoulder against the wall as he used it to keep himself upright. “Can’t…leave them for humans to find.”
She reached for him. “Gryphon—”
His leg went out from under him. She reached for him. A gasp tore from her mouth when he nearly hit the floor. At the last second, his hand slammed into the wall, and he pushed himself back up, the muscles in his arm straining with the effort.
Dear gods, he was delirious.
She had to stop him. Had to get him to come back this way. Toward the car. She also knew that if he fell, which he’d likely do at any minute, she wouldn’t have enough energy to pull him back up. Her adrenaline was waning now that the battle was over. She needed to convince him to cooperate so she could conserve what little strength she had left and get them the hell out of here. As her mind spun with how to get him to do that, she remembered the vial Persephone had slipped in her pocket.
She fished it out, stared at the clear liquid inside. A concoction of ancient herbs guaranteed to grant her control, Persephone had said. Maelea had no idea what it contained, but she knew there were a variety of ancient calming herbs still used today by the gods. It had to be one of those. Persephone wanted the Orb too much to risk harming her or Gryphon, otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered to offer Maelea Olympus. And that meant, whatever this was, it was intended to give Maelea exactly what Persephone promised.
Before she could change her mind, Maelea popped the top and reached for Gryphon. She pressed a hand against his shoulder, pushed him back against the wall so he faced her. “Wait.”
Sweat slid down his brow. “We have…”
“Drink this.” She lifted the vial to his lips. “It’ll help.”
When he opened his mouth to protest, she poured half the contents over his tongue. His mouth closed. His face scrunched up tight, but, thankfully, he swallowed. “What…?”
She capped the vial and slid it back into her pocket. Waited to see what would happen.
His pupils dilated. The muscles in his face contracted, then relaxed. Then finally his eyes locked on hers. And as they stared at each other, something passed between them. An arc of heat. An emotion she couldn’t define. Something totally unrelated to the Underworld darkness that dwelt inside each of them. It burned in the very center of her. Ignited in a rush of flame. And in the silence that remained, it lit off currents of heat that pulsed all through her body.
His eyes rolled back. His body slumped. Maelea gasped and wrapped her arms around his torso, pressing her body into his to try to hold him up. “Gryphon?” Oh, shit. “Gryphon?”
Panic swamped her chest. She braced her feet and tried to keep them both from going down. What the hell had she just done? Shit. Shit! She never should have trusted her mother. “Gryphon?”
His hands landed on her arms. His head fell forward to bump into her shoulder. “Wh-what?”
Oh, thank you, thank you. She hadn’t just killed him. But the relief was bittersweet when she realized he was even more deadweight now than he’d been before. “We need to get outside. Can you help me?”
“Sure.” He turned his head so his cheek brushed her shoulder. Drew in a deep breath. Let it out. “Whatever you want. Gods, you smell good.”
He blew out another long, sultry breath. Warmth slid along her neck, sent tingles all down her spine. His hands inched down her arms then landed on her waist. And as he tugged her closer with what little strength he had left, she recognized the stirrings of an erection pressing against her stomach.
“Have to help me, though,” he slurred. “Don’ know if I can get it up.”
Oh, good gods. That wasn’t a calming elixir in that vial, it was an aphrodisiac. Her blood warmed as he drew in another breath and nuzzled her neck. Why the hell hadn’t she expected that from her horn dog of a mother?
Okay, this entire situation was so fucked up it wasn’t even funny. They were standing in the middle of a gruesome murder scene, he was bleeding all over her, and she’d just drugged him with the ancient Greek equivalent of a bottle of Viagra. And now she was getting turned on by the fact he was turned on? They needed to get the hell out of here, right fucking now.
She shifted her weight, angled them toward the door, and pulled as hard as she could. “Come on. Let’s just get to the truck.”
He pressed forward. Stumbled. Banged into the wall with his shoulder. Didn’t even seem to notice. “Coming. Come…coooming. Would like to be coming.”
Holy hell. He was worse off than she thought. Her stomach tightened. She was thankful for the cool evening air when they stepped over the threshold and into the parking lot, which kept the heat burning in her belly from becoming a full-blown inferno as she slid her arm around his waist and he leaned into her side.
Somehow they made it to the truck. She pulled the passenger door open, helped him in, then dropped the backpack at his feet. His head fell against the headrest as she shut the door. A quick glance at the front of the small motel confirmed her fear. The office windows were smashed out, which meant those daemons had hit there first before coming after them.
She wanted to go check to see if anyone else was still alive. Wanted to know if the kid who’d checked them in had made it out, but knew they didn’t have time. There was no telling how many other daemons were in the area. Knowing that it was all she could do, she said a quick prayer for the kid, then swallowed the fear and ran for the motel room once more.
The stench hit her even before she stepped into the room. She covered her mouth with her hand. Grabbed towels from the bathroom and forced herself not to look around too much as she went back into the bedroom and grasped the sword. She didn’t breathe again until she was back in the parking lot, relieved to see Gryphon still sitting in the truck. His eyes were closed, his face pale, his body covered in blood and other things Maelea didn’t want to think about. Anyone walking by might think he was dead, but as she climbed into the driver’s seat, she saw his chest rising and falling with his even breaths. Relief spread through her all over again.