“Breathe. Gods, just breathe.”
The emotions receded, and slowly the haze cleared. Probably not any faster than they would have if he’d been alone, but man, he liked that worry in her eyes. Liked the panic in her voice. Liked the way she was holding him tight.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I—” He gave his head a shake. He needed to let go of her. They didn’t have time to screw around.
He didn’t want to let go, though. Man, when she got close, he swore he lost brain cells.
He looked down at the satyr at his feet and noticed the blade. Reluctantly, he eased out of her arms and knelt to pick it up. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” She turned, took a step, winced, and reached out for the trunk of a tree.
His gaze shot to her leg and the ripped black fabric against her thigh. “Skata, you’re hurt.”
“I’m okay.” She pursed her lips, steadying herself against the tree. “It’s…not deep.”
Blood stained her pants. Titus pressed a hand against the cut, realizing the satyr’s blade must have gotten her before he took the beast down. She hissed in a painful breath. He pulled his hand back. Fresh blood stained his palm.
The wound was shallow but long. She’d be okay, but the sight of her blood tossed his stomach on a sea of nausea and helplessness. “Hold still.”
The battle echoed below while she leaned back against the tree hidden in the shadows and rested her weight on her good leg. Titus recoiled at the stench but yanked open the satyr’s coat and tore the shirt from the beast’s hairy chest. When he came back, he knelt in front of Natasa and tied the garment tight around her thigh. “This is going to stink. I’d give you my shirt if I had one.” He looked up. Tried to smile. “Kinda lost mine.”
“I’m glad you didn’t lose your pants too.”
His fingers stilled against her warm thigh. “You are?”
She nodded. Torchlight from somewhere close reflected off her face. Made her skin look darker, her hair redder, her eyes flicker with dancing flames. And even though there was a war raging around them, he felt frozen in time. Like she was the only person for miles.
“About what happened before,” she said, “in my tent. I’m…not exactly stable. In a lot of ways. You should know that before anything else happens.”
His heart beat faster. “Neither am I. In a lot of ways.”
Her gaze locked on his. Slowly, he pushed to his feet. Watched her watching him with the same intensity. The same need.
“You should go without me,” she whispered. “I’ll just slow you down. I don’t want anything else to happen to you…because of me.”
She was trying to save him again. Being the hero when that was his job. Her heat surrounded him. Warmed him. Gave him a strength he’d been lacking, not just today but every day. Gave him purpose… Something he’d lost during the long course of his life. “I’m not leaving you, ligos Vesuvius. I told you back in the woods you were stuck with me. I meant it.”
The tiniest smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Those darkened with secrets and…pain. A pain he was desperate to ease. “You can’t save me, Titus.”
She’d said something similar before. At the portal, when he’d offered her help. No matter what Theron and the others said about her, they were wrong. He knew deep in his soul that she wasn’t evil.
Now, more than ever, he was determined to prove them, and her, wrong. “But I will. That’s a promise.”
“Any news?”
Cerek turned from the virtual computer in Titus’s suite and frowned as Demetrius stepped in the room. “Nothing. His Argos medallion hasn’t gone off, and for whatever reason, I can’t find it. He of all people knows to keep that damn thing on.”
More good news. Just what Demetrius needed.
Evening pressed in from the arched windows that looked out over the sparkling city lights. The party was winding down, and Isadora and the others were downstairs saying their good-byes. Demetrius knew he should be by Isadora’s side, but he couldn’t go to her. Not yet.
He looked to Orpheus. “What do you think?”
Orpheus crossed his arms over his broad chest and scowled. “I think the Argonauts’ little gizmos are crap if one measly female can so easily screw with not only the portal but your silly tracking devices.”
“Hey,” Skyla said, shooting her mate a look from the seat next to Cerek where she’d been helping the guardian try to crack Titus’s computer. “They’re your silly tracking devices now too.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“And she wasn’t just a measly female,” Skyla added. “She’s something more.”
Orpheus scowled but stepped forward and squeezed Skyla’s shoulder. “If she was a Siren, maybe then I could buy her super-warrior skills. But we know she wasn’t.”
Skyla faced the computer, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she moved, and flipped screens. “From what happened at the portal, no, she definitely isn’t a Siren. She’s stronger. Any ideas?”
“She’s not a nymph,” Cerek said. “Too tough.”
“A fury?” Orpheus asked.
Cerek cut him a look. “No way. Too hot.”
Orpheus exhaled a sound that was part shock, part amusement. “Since when do you notice hot or not?”
Cerek turned back to the computer, feigning disgust. “I might not act on my base desires like you, daemon. Doesn’t mean I don’t notice.”
Orpheus looked to Skyla and raised his brow. Skyla shook her head in a Well, what do you know? way and grinned, then refocused on the computer screen. She bit her lip. “Great power… She could have been a muse, I suppose.”
“Nah. Not submissive enough.”
Skyla’s green eyes sparked when she glanced at her mate.
“What?” he asked.
“Get to know a few muses in your day, did you, big guy?”
Orpheus’s grin widened. He leaned close and kissed her temple. “Not as well as I know you, Siren. And they never wanted to play. Not like you.”
Demetrius fought from rolling his eyes at the direction of the conversation. Honestly, he really didn’t give a rip who or what the female was. He was too busy stressing. And wishing like hell he hadn’t seen what he’d just seen.
Pain tightened his chest, making it hard to breathe. The memory of Nick kissing Isadora sent every inch of his skin throbbing with a mixture of rage and helplessness. He should have plowed his fist into Nick’s jaw. He should have stayed and talked to Isadora instead of turning and walking away. But he hadn’t been able to do either. Because seeing them together like that… It was like looking at a scene from the future. Of what could be if he did the right thing. If he just stepped aside and finally let her go.
His brother was right. He couldn’t protect her here. Not her and the baby. The Council would move on her soon. If not before she delivered, then right after, when she was at her weakest.
He couldn’t keep her here, not if it meant her life. But the thought of handing her over to Nick...
“Demetrius? Are you listening or what?”
He cut his gaze toward Orpheus. The guardian’s gray eyes were fixed on him as if he’d grown a third eyeball. Which he felt like he had. Words echoed in his head, but he couldn’t make sense of them. Isadora… She was the only thing that made sense. She was the only thing that ever had. “What?”
“I said,” Orpheus went on, exasperation in his features, “do you think she’s a witch?”
Thought slowly came back. Demetrius’s brow lowered. He and Orpheus—though they were no blood relation—were both part witch, and if this female had fried the portal the way Phin and O said she had, it was a possibility she was part witch too. But something about that simple explanation didn’t add up.