She turned to look back, and in the split second of light saw Demetrius sail through the air and crash into the wall fifteen yards away. She cried out for him, but the roars, the pounding in her ears, drowned out all sound. Her heart lurched in her chest. Instinctively she moved toward him.
She slammed into a massive body, fell back on her butt. Horrified, she looked up and froze when the eyes peering down at her began to glow, casting an eerie green light over the entire area.
Oh shit…
“It seems I’m always rescuing your ass, Princess. Is this three now?”
Orpheus? No way. Orpheus was here?
“Holy shit, O,” Zander exclaimed from mere feet to her left. “We’re about to be overrun.”
“Then might I suggest alternate travel plans?” Orpheus winked down at Isadora. “I’ll add it to your bill.”
He brought his pinky fingers together and opened the portal with a snap and sizzle. The room burst with light. Zander turned and grasped her arm, dragging her to him, but in the chaos she saw the Argonaut markings down Orpheus’s forearms—the markings that hadn’t been there mere days before.
A battle cry erupted just beyond the door.
Zander pushed her forward. “Go, go, go already!”
Isadora took a step toward the open portal. Behind her, another arc of energy lit up the room, followed by another crash of body into stone, and again she watched as Demetrius sailed through the air as if he were a rag doll.
“Demetrius,” she whispered, moving toward him and away from the portal.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Orpheus asked.
“We can’t leave him.”
“I think he’s getting what he deserves.”
“She’s going to kill him.”
“Who the hell cares? Get through the portal, Princess!”
The black door shook with a mighty force. Followed by roars that rocked the room.
“No.” She wasn’t abandoning him. Not here. Not with Atalanta. She turned to Zander. “We can’t just leave him here.”
“You will rue the day you were born!” Atalanta bellowed in the darkness. A groan sounded somewhere across the room.
“Zander!” Isadora cried.
Zander looked to Orpheus. “She’s right. We can’t leave him.”
“What the—?”
“I couldn’t have gotten to her without him. He tried to save her, not kill her. It’s the truth, O. I don’t know what happened with Gryphon, but he didn’t hand her over to Atalanta. Dammit, she’s his soul mate.”
“Motherfucker,” Orpheus muttered. “Talk about screwing up a wet dream. Would you two get through the damn portal already?”
“But—”
“I’ll get him,” Orpheus said loudly, cutting off Isadora’s words.
“Do you promise?”
The glow of his green eyes held hers. But even through the illumination, she saw the truth lurking in their depths. He thought he was such a badass, yet how many times now had he come through for her when she needed him? “Yeah, I’ll get him. Now go!”
The door crashed in. Another series of roars resounded, these louder and closer and a thousand times more frightening. Zander grasped her arm. “Come on!”
From the darkness Atalanta screamed, “Hora!”
“Please,” Isadora pleaded as Zander tugged her toward the portal. “Please bring him back.”
“You so fucking owe me for this,” Orpheus muttered.
She didn’t get a chance to respond. Zander pulled her through the portal with one last yank. And then all sound dispersed as she went flying.
Chapter 24
Isadora stood in the massive walk-in closet of her suite in the castle of Tiyrns with a towel wrapped around her body, staring at the clothes hanging from the rack.
Not a single pair of pants. No blouses. None of the modern items Casey had helped her gather weeks ago when she’d decided she wasn’t going to play the part of the cloistered princess any longer. All she saw were miles of crinoline, satin, chiffon, and silk. Dresses she’d thought she was done with forever.
Water droplets fell from her wet hair to drip onto her bare shoulders. Her stomach rolled all over again. She hitched the towel tighter as one expensive fabric bled into another.
She barely remembered the past two days. Callia had told her she’d blacked out when Zander brought her back. She’d slept straight through, her body so sick and worn out that it had needed the time to heal. But even after nearly twenty-four hours asleep, a platter full of food that hadn’t stayed down, and a fresh shower, Isadora didn’t feel healed. Or free. If anything, looking at the clothes in this closet, she felt more confined than she ever had before. Even on Pandora.
She grabbed the first dress her fingers touched, dropped the towel, and wriggled into the claustrophobic gown. She didn’t notice the color or style or anything about the garment. The only things she wanted were answers. And after everything she’d been through, she deserved them.
She zipped the back of the dress, finger-combed her short hair, then reached for the closest pair of shoes before turning out of the closet. And stopped when she came face-to-face with both of her sisters.
“I’d say she’s feeling better,” Callia said in that healer voice that set Isadora’s nerves on edge.
“Much,” Casey agreed with a smile that looked forced.
They were both dressed in slacks, Casey with a red fitted sweater and Callia with a blue button-down blouse. Both were close to the same height, with the same violet eyes and the same confident expressions. And both were studying her as if she were their latest laboratory experiment.
Isadora dropped the shoes and slid her feet into them. “Where is he?”
When neither sister answered, she looked up. Callia and Casey exchanged somber glances.
“What?” Isadora asked. “He is back, isn’t he? You told me Orpheus brought him back. I need to talk to him.”
“He’s not…” Callia started, then closed her mouth. “You can’t.”
“Why not?” When neither answered again, panic settled in. “Is he…?” Oh, gods. “Is he hurt?”
“He’s not hurt,” Callia said quickly, taking Isadora’s left hand. “He’s fine. Orpheus found him in the dark and flashed him outside the bunker walls. He was a little banged up from the fight with Atalanta, but these guys—they heal quickly with their superhero Argonaut genes, you know.” The healer tried to smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s lucky Orpheus was there, though. Anyone else…they wouldn’t have been able to get away.”
Isadora knew that. She owed Orpheus. In the hours since her rescue she’d learned that Theron and the others had defeated the daemons and that the ones who hadn’t been killed had scattered, just as she’d learned Atalanta was now gone as well. Where, no one seemed to know, but whatever Orpheus and Demetrius had done to the goddess down there in that bunker had given the Argonauts the chance they needed to win the battle.
Her gaze strayed to Casey and she noticed her sister still looked worried. Something was wrong. If Demetrius wasn’t hurt…
“What aren’t you both telling me?”
Casey took Isadora’s other hand. “Honey, I really think you should lie back down. You’re not back to one hundred percent yet and I don’t want—”
Isadora was so sick of everyone coddling her. It had to stop. Now.
She wrenched her hands free and took a step back. “No, you tell me what’s going on right now. Where is he? Did he leave?”
Casey looked to Callia again, and the pitying expression on her face only sent Isadora’s blood pressure higher. “He didn’t leave, Isa.”