Wondering, though, gave Demetrius something to obsess over besides his mate. And what the hell he was going to say to her when the last of the partygoers downstairs were finally gone.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I think it’s time we spoke with Delia.”
“The coven leader?” Cerek turned back to the screen, but there was a look in his wide brown eyes. A look Demetrius couldn’t quite read. “If it’s all the same, I’ll let you two handle that one without me.”
Interesting. Cerek, afraid of a witch? He’d never shown any fear around Demetrius or Orpheus. And, come to think of it, the last time the Argonauts had visited the coven—when they’d been looking for information about the sorcerer who’d kidnapped Isadora—Cerek hadn’t seemed afraid then. Of course, then Demetrius certainly wouldn’t have noticed what the hell Cerek was up to. Then he hadn’t been paying attention to anything but what was happening to Isadora and what he was going to do.
A lot like now.
“Groovy.” Orpheus kissed Skyla’s temple once more and pushed away from the desk. “Let’s do this. The sooner we figure out where the hell Titus went, the sooner we can get back to more important things. Like playing.”
Skyla grinned as they headed for the door and called out, “In that case I’ll dig out my whip.”
“Oh, Siren.” A wide smile spread across Orpheus’s face. And danger and heat brewed in his eyes. “I can’t wait.”
In the hall, he winked Demetrius’s way. “Admit it. You’re so freakin’ jealous you can barely see straight.”
Demetrius’s jaw tightened, but he kept his focus directed ahead. Yeah, he was jealous. But not of Skyla. He was jealous of the relaxed relationship the Siren had with the Argonaut. The type of relationship he wished he had with Isadora.
Pain sliced deep again. Because he feared, relaxed or not, soon they wouldn’t have any kind of relationship.
They found coats in an empty tent. A flashlight and a fresh canteen, the strap of which Titus hooked over his shoulder. When he tried to grab a blanket, Natasa tugged it from his hands and threw it on the floor. They didn’t have time to pack, for gods’ sake.
“Which way?” Titus asked as they crouched in the shadows, scanning the trees and decking. Blades striking blades echoed from below. Screams from nymphs who had to be scared out of their minds. Grunts and gasps as Aella’s warriors battled Zagreus’s hired thugs.
“Natasa?” Titus asked, squeezing her hand. “Which way?”
Her head snapped his direction. She blinked twice. Hadn’t realized she’d been zoning out. The sounds of battle were growing closer, as if they were overrunning the city. And—shit—were those flames rising from the canopy behind him? She hadn’t started that, had she?
She swallowed hard and rose to her feet, winding at the pain spiraling up her leg. “Toward the west end of the city. There’s an exit. And I’m thinking we need to hustle and get out of here before that reaches us.”
He twisted to look over his shoulder, muttered, “Fuck me,” then pushed to his feet. “Come on.”
They wove around tents and tree trunks, staying as far from the battle as they could. Warmth spread down Natasa’s leg. She knew without even looking that the cut was bleeding more than she’d thought.
They reached the far end of the city, deserted and quiet. Natasa rested her weight on her good leg and grasped the railing while Titus searched for the rope ladders she’d told him were rolled up and stored against the trees. This was the exit she used to come and go from the city, and it was usually guarded by at least one Amazon. But not tonight. And that didn’t settle Natasa’s nerves any.
Anxiety spread beneath her ribs. In her attempt to do the right thing, she’d caused more damage than if she’d left well enough alone. The cyclical pattern of her life kept repeating itself, and she seemed helpless to stop it.
“Found it,” he called. He latched the end of the ladder on the hooks drilled into the decking and flung the ladder over the side. Then he stopped to look at her. Concern tightened his features. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She shook his hand off her arm—the one that felt way too damn good—and climbed over the side. Darkness beckoned from below. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Pain radiated up her leg, making her weak. She grasped the rungs of the rope ladder and moved slower than normal, trying to compensate for her injury.
She reached the bottom, breath heavy, legs tired. Grasping the trunk of a nearby tree, she stepped off and swiped at the sweat running down her forehead.
Titus moved off the ladder at her side and looked through the trees back toward the battle. They were at least a hundred and fifty yards from the action, but the screams still echoed through the night and the red glow of flames high above was growing stronger.
“Man, either Zagreus has a serious axe to grind with your queen, or he’s got a hard-on for those nymphs.”
“It’s the nymphs.” Her stomach rolled. She couldn’t think about what was happening back there. “And she’s not my queen.”
He looked at her. Seemed on the verge of asking something. She held her breath and waited. She knew he had a thousand questions, and he deserved answers to them all, but they didn’t have time to get into any now. And she didn’t know what she was going to tell him when he finally asked.
“Which way gets us out of here the fastest?”
Relief pulsed through her veins. Relief that he hadn’t posed the tough questions. Relief that he wasn’t blaming her for what had happened back there. She was carrying enough guilt over that already. “That way.”
“Come on.”
He grasped her hand and pulled her into the darkness of the forest. Shadows and mist surrounded them. The air was cool, slapping at her face, but it didn’t stop the sweat from slicking her skin or the heat that seemed to consume her from the inside out.
Don’t let it be happening now. She breathed deep and ground her teeth in the silence. She needed more time. Needed to figure out how to get info out of Epimetheus.
Tingles radiated from Titus’s palm into hers, then up her arm, cooling at least part of her as she limped along next to him. That moment in the shadows, when he’d been tending her wound, slammed back into her. The worry in his eyes. The heady need in his voice. The draw to him that seemed to overpower even her common sense.
A lump formed in her throat. She didn’t want him dead. Didn’t want him hurt because of her. But the longer they were together, the more volatile she’d become. As soon as they got to safety, she had to figure out a way to lose him once and for all.
Her thoughts were so messed up, she didn’t hear the roar until Titus tugged on her arm, pulling her to a stop. Her bad leg gave, and pain stabbed through her all over again. He wrapped an arm about her waist and pulled her close, keeping her from going down.
Gods, he felt good. So cool where she was hot. Even through the thick fabric of the military-style coat they’d picked up, he was like a breath of fresh air, easing the fever growing inside her.
“That doesn’t sound like a stream,” he muttered.
She strained to listen. And caught the faint roar reverberating through the misty trees.
“It’s not.” Panic closed in. They’d been heading toward the coast, not into the hills away from danger, like she’d thought. She always got turned around in these damn trees. “I—”