His eyes darted to Isadora. But she looked the same as when he’d left her at the stream. Asleep, maybe, but she wasn’t close to death. She was—
The water around her rippled, and near her bare leg a scaled tentacle broke the surface only to disappear again.
Oh…fuuuuuck!
He charged into the water without a second thought, screaming Isadora’s name until he dove beneath the surface. His muscles burned as he swam with everything he had in him. When something brushed his leg, he swam harder. Even under the water he could hear the Keres above shrieking.
He gasped as he broke the surface near Isadora. His hand closed over her arm, but she still didn’t move. Not even when he wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her toward the shore. “Wake up, dammit!”
She was dead weight in the water. It took twice as long to reach the shore, and every time something grazed his limbs he was sure it was some kind of serpent about to eat them. His feet finally hit the silty soil; he stumbled, righted himself, turned and slipped his arms under Isadora’s to haul her out of the water. The cotton of her shirt tore.
The Keres screamed their frustration as Demetrius dragged her back onto the shore. As he cleared the edge, a bubbling sound echoed. He looked back to see the water in the center of the lake churning and fizzing. The Keres shrieked and disappeared into the fog.
Dread filled Demetrius’s chest as he supported Isadora and watched the water recede as if being sucked in by a giant vortex. Rocks and reeds and tree trunks came into view, but what held his undivided attention was the mighty beast with six heads emerging from the column of water in the center of the lake.
“Holy fucking shit.” He looked down at Isadora, out cold in his arms, then back to the creature that was a cross between a serpent and six different dragons. No way he could outrun it. Not with her unconscious. His adrenaline surged. Options raced through his mind. He still had the sword in his hand.
He laid Isadora out on the grass behind a giant shrub and drew her legs in so she was completely hidden from view. Then he swallowed hard and held his hands over her, muttering in Medean, casting the mother of all protection spells and drawing deep from whatever power was left in him.
He was a crappy witch. He’d never developed his craft. He hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t cared. Now, though…now he wished he’d embraced his heritage at least a little.
With the measly spell cast, there was nothing else he could do but distract and divert. And hope like hell she woke up and got the hell out of there before the monster found her.
He took one last look at her lying on the grass, out cold and soaking wet. And for the first time in his life he wished he hadn’t been such an asshole to her. That he’d felt what it was like to have her arms wrapped around his body. That he’d tasted those sweet lips. That he’d just once gotten lost in her softness.
Wishing is for shit.
Yeah, he knew that better than anyone, didn’t he? The only bright spot in this whole nightmare was that Atalanta wasn’t going to get what she so desperately wanted.
He stepped back onto the lakeshore, stayed in the shadows, and sprinted around the far side of the water, well away from Isadora’s hiding spot. Pulse pounding, he slowed to a stop and gripped the sword in both hands. “Hey!”
The water column arced in all directions, splattering across Demetrius and the ground. The beast swung around. Two heads on the monster blew fire six feet out.
“Is that the best you can do?” Demetrius yelled. “Why don’t you come over here and try that?”
The middle head roared, then the creature dove underwater and raced toward shore.
Demetrius braced his feet on the soft soil and reared back with the blade, ready to strike. The beast shot from the water like a bullet, flew over his head, and landed on all four feet with a crack that shook the ground. Demetrius whipped around. One head shot forward, the hideous mouth opened. Before it could roast him, Demetrius swung the sword.
The blade sliced through the thick neck. The head fell to the ground with a thwack. The other heads screamed and pulled back. But instead of slowing the monster, the wound seemed to give it strength. Two heads instantly grew from the one severed. And then there were seven.
“Fuck me.” This wasn’t any monster, this was a Hydra. His mind raced over what he new of the legendary beast. Each time one head was lost, two grew back in its place. Only one head was mortal. Decapitating that one was the only way to kill the creature.
Of course, you had to figure out which one that was. And you had to get close enough to cut it off. And you had to avoid being torched by all the other heads in the meantime.
Oh, man…he was so screwed.
He glanced back to the brush where Isadora lay hidden. Then his gaze shot to the fog.
He waved his sword in the air. “Try again, shithead!” He took off running.
The Hydra heads roared, but the monster took the bait and gave chase. The fog thickened. Demetrius couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of him, but he kept running, wanting to draw the beast as far away as possible. Up ahead he heard a loud crashing sound, and not knowing what the hell he was running toward, he veered off into a thicket of trees.
The crashing grew louder. A lion’s roar sounded. Demetrius looked back just in time to see flames erupt from the fog in the direction he’d been headed. Holy skata, there was something else out here. The Hydra bellowed in response, but instead of following Demetrius into the trees, it charged the newcomer.
Snapping and screams pierced the eerie fog. The two monsters collided with a crack that sounded like a two-ton bomb detonating. They rolled across the ground, taking down trees and stumps and anything in their way.
Demetrius scrambled back out of the way. Only when the second monster jerked to its massive feet and Demetrius got a good look at its size did he realize it was a Chimera, an enormous lion-headed creature with the body of a goat and the tail of a dragon. The Hydra righted itself. The seven heads roared a challenge in unison. The Chimera didn’t seem to give a rip. It braced itself, opened its mighty mouth, and vomited a steady stream of fire that seemed to have no end.
Okay, he was not sticking around to see who won this fucked up, no-way-in-hell-this-should-be-real battle. Demetrius sprinted back to Isadora. He was pretty sure his heart was in his throat by the time he skidded to his knees at her side. One quick check confirmed she was still unconscious, but breathing. Another loud roar kicked him into overdrive. He scooped Isadora into his arms. And then he ran.
Chapter 12
Isadora came awake with a start. She sat up, blinked several times, and had a moment of What the hell?
The corner she was lying in was dark, but across what looked like a massive room, torches burned bright on marble pillars spaced ten feet apart to form a long hall. In the center, a raised platform held a stone table. Just like from her dream. Or nightmare.
Her gaze darted back to the dark corner around her, and trepidation rushed in when she realized she was naked beneath a thin cotton blanket. She tugged the blanket up to cover her breasts, shifted to the side, and discovered she wasn’t on a hard cold floor but some kind of fur rug or hide.
She lurched to her feet. Wrapping the blanket around herself, she made it into the light of the torches before she saw the trunks set between each of the pillars and faltered.
One, two…seven trunks. Each made of antique steel, wool, and leather with a different symbol carved in gold on the front. But it was the one at the end of the room, perpendicular to all the others, that drew her attention. The one that was twice as big as the rest and bore the symbol of Heracles on the front.