He followed along behind Gryphon, curious and cautious about where they were heading. It was more than coincidence that Gryphon had put Isadora in the lead and placed himself between her and Demetrius, even though she didn’t have a clue where they were heading. With every step they took, Demetrius’s apprehension kicked up and his Argonaut senses went on high alert.
They walked on sunlit paths for at least an hour, deeper into the island’s topography. He knew Isadora was tired, but she didn’t slow her pace. And she didn’t once look at him, didn’t once acknowledge he was there. Then again, why the hell should she? After the way he’d treated her this morning, he was lucky she hadn’t hauled off and stabbed him with that dagger hooked in the waistband of her shorts.
He slapped a tree branch out of his eyes, looked past Gryphon, and focused on her legs. Then her short shorts. Then the round curve of her ass, which flexed and moved under the baggy cotton. Heat rippled through his torso, slid down to his groin. This morning he’d wanted his hands there, right where he was focused now, urging her on and helping her ride. His mind flashed back to the image of her moving over him, the look of sheer pleasure on her face. And that heat went white-hot just that fast.
“Skata,” he mumbled. Like he needed that vision now? She hated him again, just as he needed her to. It was stupid and useless to remember any of what had happened early this morning. Even more pathetic to wish things could be different.
Gryphon glanced over his shoulder, but there wasn’t curiosity in the other guardian’s too-bright eyes. There was malice. And very clear hatred.
Oh yeah, something was definitely off. Gryphon was the easygoing Argonaut. Everyone’s pal, the non-shit-stirrer of the group. Though they’d never been best buds, they certainly hadn’t been enemies. But right now? Right now it was crystal clear that’s exactly what they’d become.
They moved out of the trees and headed for a small knoll covered in emerald green grass. As they drew close, Demetrius realized it wasn’t simply the steadily increasing slope of a hillside. There was something underneath all that soil and grass, as if a structure of some kind had been buried long ago. Sure enough, as they moved closer and Gryphon called to Isadora to stop, Demetrius caught sight of an opening in the rocks near the base of the hill that looked like an entrance to some kind of tomb.
“What’s down there?” Isadora asked, eyeing the stairs that disappeared into darkness.
“A temple,” Gryphon answered. “To Demeter.”
Isadora’s gaze swept the landscape. This high there was nothing but hills and grasses as far as the eye could see. They’d moved out of the trees and were now surrounded by open sky. “Out here?”
“Are you implying this location isn’t sufficient for the earth mother?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“Good,” Gryphon replied with zero humor. “Because Demeter knows a thing or two about purity. Unlike some people.” He motioned her to follow him. “We go inside. The portal is below.”
Gryphon moved down the steps, rounded a corner, and disappeared from view. A reddish yellow glow erupted in the tunnel, indicating he’d lit some kind of torch, which struck Demetrius as wrong once again. Had he brought matches with him? How would he have known he’d need them?
Isadora took a deep breath and moved toward the opening, but Demetrius caught her by the arm. “Wait.”
She rounded on him so fast, he didn’t expect it. But the sharp point of the dagger pressing into his side registered loud and clear. “Don’t touch me.”
He let go of her arm, held his hands up in surrender. Yeah, still seriously pissed. And could he blame her?
“I won’t,” he said calmly. The fire in her dark eyes was something he hadn’t seen before. Even yesterday when she pulled the sword on him in the Hall of Heroes, there’d been a softness there, a vulnerability. Now, thanks to him, that was long gone. “Think carefully about this, though.”
“About cutting you? I don’t have to. If you ever touch me again there will be blood. And this time it won’t be your choice, it’ll be mine.”
He didn’t doubt that for a minute.
She lowered the dagger and moved one step down into the tunnel. The light was now gone and nothing but blackness beckoned, but Gryphon couldn’t be far ahead.
“Isadora,” he said quickly, panic pushing in before she disappeared. “I didn’t mean about me. I meant about Gryphon. He isn’t—” He stopped himself, unsure what the hell to say. Was he overreacting? Or was he simply jealous she so easily trusted Gryphon when she now hated him?
He didn’t want to face that realization, so he went with his gut. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”
She glanced back over her shoulder. But her eyes were just as hard and cold as they’d been before, when she’d held the dagger to his side, not the soft chocolate brown he’d looked into as they’d made love. “And sometimes they are. I’ve learned that the hard way. You made sure of it.”
She moved down into the darkness, turned the corner, and was gone.
Alone, his heart thumped hard. In his attempt to protect her from himself, he’d done what he’d set out to do. He’d finally broken her. And as a result he’d turned her into someone who was as cold and unfeeling and hopeless as he was.
Regret and a need to make amends pushed him forward with a fierce determination. He stepped toward the opening, but instead of moving down into the darkness himself, his body hit an invisible shield with a crack that stole his breath and knocked him back to the ground.
What the…?
“Gryphon?” Isadora called from inside the tunnel.
Demetrius rushed to his feet, tried again, met nothing but a wall of air as strong as granite.
“Isadora!” He slammed his hands against the force.
“Gryphon?” Isadora called again. Realizing he could hear her as clearly as if she were beside him, Demetrius stopped fighting, placed his hands on the invisible wall, and listened. “Where are you?”
“I’m here, Princess.”
“I can’t see you,” she called.
“Oh, you will,” Gryphon replied with a chuckle. “Come closer and I will light the way.”
A scraping sound echoed, like metal against rock, and Demetrius imagined the dagger on Isadora’s hip hitting the narrow passageway. His chest grew tight. The scraping eventually died down, and he heard Isadora’s voice again.
“Where…where are we?”
“In the main chamber. Where it will begin.”
Begin? Oh, shit. Demetrius’s anxiety pushed higher.
“Why can’t I see you?” she asked. “I thought you had a torch.”
“Oh, you’ll see me, Princess. Very soon you will see all of me. In my true form, as you did before. Even though you are no longer a virgin, you are still of great use to me.”
The dead voice, the too-blue eyes, and the hunch in Demetrius’s gut all finally coalesced. And even before the blue glow erupted from the tunnel to spill out the archway and illuminate every stone and pebble, Demetrius knew he’d been right.
Isadora gasped. “Oh, gods.”
“Not a god,” Apophis said with that same menacing chuckle that belonged to Gryphon. “Not yet. But with your help, Hora, I will be soon.”
Chapter 18
Isadora swallowed hard as she stared at the blue glow coming from Gryphon’s eyes. Her situation had just tanked. Big time.
No, not Gryphon’s eyes. Whatever was inside Gryphon was definitely not Argonaut. Or Argolean. Or even human for that matter. It was…evil.
“I told you that you hadn’t seen the last of me.”