Across the room, Orpheus struck the warlock’s leg with his sword. Apophis screamed and went down to one knee, whipping Isadora’s way. Crimson blood oozed from numerous cuts and scrapes across his body. Unlike his witches, he was still mostly human. And he bled. Bright red. Just like her.
Sweat poured down his face. That perfectly ordered gray hair was now a knotted mess around his grotesque features. His eyes took in the dead witches, darted back to where Demetrius and Orpheus prepared for the kill blow.
“You haven’t seen the last of me.” With one final glare Isadora’s way, he poofed into nothingness.
“That’s right, motherfucker,” Orpheus muttered. “Run back to your hole and hide like the pussy you really are.”
Demetrius crossed the room in three strides and reached for Isadora’s bound arm. He didn’t speak as he worked and Isadora was too juiced to care.
Orpheus finally caught sight of Gryphon out cold on the floor and rushed to his brother’s side. “Gryph! Shit.” He dropped his blade, rolled Gryphon onto his back. Burn marks marred both the front and back of the guardian’s clothing. “Dammit, Gryphon. Wake up, you moron.”
Isadora’s hand jerked free and she fell into Demetrius. He caught her around the waist. Faintly she was aware of the blood and sweat coating his clothing, but his arms were strong and warm and crushing as they closed around her. And she didn’t give a rip that he smelled like witch goo. He was solid. He was real. Right now he was everything she needed.
He was also gone way too soon. He set her back, made sure she was steady on her feet before he let go, but then he was gone, sliding his blade into its scabbard and kneeling on Gryphon’s other side as he and Orpheus worked to wake the unconscious Argonaut.
She was still too stunned to feel anything as she turned to watch them work. But the scream that resounded from the doorway drew her immediate attention.
Saphira, Isadora’s handmaiden, charged with her sword out like a spear. Only this wasn’t Saphira as Isadora had ever known her. This female’s eyes were a frightening neon yellow, her face a horror of menace and rage, and the murder gleaming on her face was a clear indication that what was left of her humanity was long gone.
“Fuck,” Demetrius muttered when he caught sight of the rabid witch. “Orpheus!”
Orpheus twisted, grappled for his sword. Demetrius’s hand darted to his back for his blade.
Isadora didn’t think, she reacted. She lifted Gryphon’s parazonium, still in her hand, and hurled it end over end. The tip of the blade impaled the witch dead center in the chest. Her eyes flew wide, she stumbled, and her mouth dropped open in shock. The sword fell from her hand as she grappled to pull the weapon free. But there was no time for even a scream to slip from her throat. Her glamour flickered and died as she collapsed forward on the cold floor and the blade pierced flesh and bone to protrude from her back.
Isadora’s hands cupped her cheeks. As she stared at Saphira’s lifeless body, she couldn’t help but think of the thousands of times she’d looked at that face and trusted she was her friend. The energy that only moments before had propelled Isadora forward rushed out of her on a wave. She took a step back just as her knees went out from under her.
“I’ve got you.”
Strong arms closed around her. Still reeling, she looked up to find Demetrius holding her tight against him once again.
Demetrius?
Yeah. Demetrius.
She focused on his face to keep the panic at bay. On the bloody and bruised skin streaked with dirt. On the faint lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, that hard mouth, the slight dimple in his chin. On the strong cheekbones and his intense gaze, which seemed to be looking all the way through her, right into her soul. This was the same Argonaut she’d seen in her dream. The same one she’d cowered from so many times she couldn’t count. Only this time something felt…different.
He pushed her hands away from her face, focused on her burn, and muttered, “Bitches.” Gently he blew on the tender skin and his breath, cooling against the sting of the burn, heated other places inside her she definitely shouldn’t be aware of right now.
Her body reacted, shifted deeper into his arms. Even though some small place in her mind screamed, What the hell do you think you’re doing?
“Sonofabitch,” Orpheus said from across the room. “Um, guys. We’ve got a problem. A big-ass problem.”
Somehow Isadora tore her gaze from Demetrius and looked toward Orpheus, who was standing at the doorway, peering down the long hall.
“What now?” Demetrius asked.
“Wave number two,” Orpheus said. He crossed the floor in quick strides, reached for his sword from the floor. “Only this time they’re not fucking around.”
“Skata.”
Isadora tensed in Demetrius’s arms. “What does that mean?”
“It means we need to haul ass out of here.” Demetrius looked down at her. “Can you walk?”
“No, but I can run.”
“Good girl.” Demetrius let go of her, dropped to Gryphon’s side, and slapped the guardian on the face. “No more dicking around, Gryphon. Wake up.”
Gryphon grunted and stirred.
Orpheus checked the door again, swore. “We don’t have time to run.” Then to Demetrius, “You’ll have to take them through the portal.”
Demetrius’s gaze shot to Orpheus’s as he pushed Gryphon up to sitting. “She can’t go to the human realm.”
“It’s either that or die, smart guy. Gryphon’s not strong enough to flash out of here and you’re not leaving him behind, so make a choice. We’ve got seconds here. I can hold them off until you get through the portal, but that’s it.”
Fear leaped in Isadora’s chest. She twisted to Orpheus. “You’re coming with us.”
He flicked her a look as he pulled on his black cloak, stained with blood and gore. “Would love to, Isa, but someone’s got to be the man around here.”
“Wait. You don’t have to do this.”
“Careful, Isa. I’ll start to think you really do care.”
“Orpheus—”
He turned to her before she could touch him and the humor left his features, stopping her feet. His eyes flickered green before returning to their normal gray color. Isadora stiffened when she saw the daemon in him shimmer forward and retreat.
“I can hold my own,” he said. “You know that.”
She did know that. She was the only one who knew his secret. Not even Gryphon knew that his brother was part daemon. He was right. He could take down just about anything that came at him, but he wasn’t invincible. And somewhere in the back of her mind she realized she’d foreseen this moment long ago. “Orpheus—”
“Go, Isa,” he said, softer. “You managed to save me; now do it for my brother. Get Gryphon home. I can hold them off long enough for all of you to get through. This time I need your help.”
She swallowed hard. Out in the hall, footsteps pounded and mixed with screams and shouts and cries of war.
Isadora took a step back. And another.
“Go!” Orpheus shouted. His eyes flashed again before jerking from her toward the doorway, which was suddenly filled with a horde of witches, all seething and hissing and bearing weapons like nothing Isadora had seen before.
Fear surged. Isadora turned and ran as Orpheus dropped down for attack.
Demetrius brought his hands together in front of him. “Run!”
The portal fractured and opened, illuminating the room in a burst of light so bright it blinded Isadora. She dropped her hand to block the glare, dug her bare feet into the slippery floor, and pushed off as hard as she could. Weapons clashed behind her. Screams and shouts resounded. Terror plagued her as she thought of Orpheus left here alone. But when she reached Demetrius and Gryphon, she didn’t hesitate. She sprinted through the opening toward salvation. And prayed somehow it would find them all.