A chill spread down Hades’s spine. He’d heard rumors of a child, but after all this time with no sign or mention of her, he’d thought she was mere myth. Prophecy said Prometheus’s child would lead to the downfall of the Olympian king—yet another reason Zeus had imprisoned Prometheus, so he could never procreate. But if what Zeus said was true, if Prometheus did have a daughter somewhere, and if Hades could find her first, it meant this whole game could be over much sooner than even Hades had planned. And it meant not only could Hades take control of the human realm like he wanted, but he could grind Zeus to dust in the process and claim Olympus for himself.
Excitement reverberated through his veins. Now, more than ever, it was imperative he get to Persephone and their son, Zagreus, before anyone else.
Careful not to show enthusiasm, Hades tipped his head and worked to keep the bite in his words when he said, “And where, oh great and glorious Grand Pooh-Bah, are you going to look for this mystery daughter?”
“That,” Zeus said, leaning back against the windowsill, “is my worry, not yours. You just focus on finding the water element.”
They were sending him on a wild-goose chase. Hades could feel it. He didn’t know why, but he was certain they were plotting to use Prometheus’s daughter for something cataclysmic.
Hades wasn’t about to let them win.
“Are you in or out, adelfos?” Zeus’s eyes sharpened. “Think carefully, because the choice you make now could change your life for good.”
Hades didn’t need to think twice. He already knew exactly what he wanted. And whose back he was going to stab to get it.
One side of his mouth curled into a vicious smile. “I’m already there, brother mine.”
She was back. He hadn’t imagined her after all.
“Skata…” Titus pushed his muscles into gear and climbed faster. He couldn’t lose her now. He reached for the top of the wall. A loud, cracking sound echoed through the courtyard.
Oh…fuck.
Fucktastic. Where the hell had that come from? As if he weren’t in enough shit already?
His gaze darted to the right. She—Natasa—was tying off the other end to the parapet. When she finished with the knot, she glanced his way, winked, then took off at a run.
Bloody hell...
Titus’s nerves hummed as he moved past doors and scanned offices on the second floor of the castle. The guardians had been dispatched to do a thorough yet quiet search of the premises. With the Council milling around downstairs and all of Argolea in the streets outside, this was not the time to have a spy sent by the Prince of Darkness fucking around.
Shit, he had not seen that one coming. He pushed open a door, glanced around the empty meeting room, and moved on. She worked for Zagreus? How had he missed that? He passed through a sitting area and into a small kitchen, also empty. Perching his hands on his hips, he turned a slow circle and took in the room.
Zagreus… It explained a lot, though. Like why she was searching for Maelea, why she was asking questions about Prometheus, why she was able to block his ability to read her mind, why, even, Maelea had sensed some great power within her. Dark power, obviously. A frown turned his lips as he eyed the table and chairs in the middle of the kitchen. But it didn’t explain why he could touch her and not feel anything.
Movement outside the window over the sink caught his attention. He whipped that way just as something landed with a thud on the veranda.
A body pushed to full height, and his adrenaline surged. Fire-red hair blew in the breeze, and eyes—sparkling, emerald-green eyes—peered his way through the glass.
It was her. Natasa. Alive in front of him as if he’d conjured her.
Titus lurched into the sitting area and raced for the french doors that led to the balcony. Chants from the crowd growing impatient on the other side of the castle walls filled the air. The fresh scents of sea and salt wafted around him. His pulse raced while he scanned the empty balcony.
Where the hell…?
A thud echoed up to his ears. Followed by a voice, shouting, “Hey? Where did you come from?”
He rushed to the railing and looked down. A gardener holding pruning shears in his hand stood between rows of roses, staring after a redhead who was halfway across the courtyard. A redhead racing straight for the trellises covered in purple-flowered vines that climbed the castle wall.
Holy Hades, who was this female?
“Stop her!” he hollered, already tossing his legs over the railing and dropping to the ground. Normally, since they were in Argolea, he could flash wherever the hell he needed to go. But he still wasn’t back to one-hundred percent after his recent injuries. And flashing was one of those things you needed to be in tip-top shape to perform.
She slowed and looked back. And then their gazes met. Fire flashed in the depths of her eyes. Fire and determination and a come-and-get-me challenge no man could resist.
“Signal the guards,” he yelled at the gardener. “And alert the queen.”
He didn’t have time to contact Theron and the others. If he let this female out of his sight, he had a strong hunch he’d never see her again.
And aside from the fact she was working for the enemy, had infiltrated their realm, and had somehow gotten past the castle’s security, something in his gut told him he had to see her again. Needed to…for reasons even he didn’t totally understand.
She was already at the top of the trellis—at least thirty feet up in the air—by the time he reached the base, moving as smoothly as a seasoned cat burglar. She pulled herself up to the wall walk, turned and looked down. Grasping the trellis in his hands, Titus paused his hasty climb. The wind blew silky curls back from her face, and sunlight highlighted her creamy features. But it was the victory that flashed in her eyes that did him in. A victory that turned one side of her lips up in the sexiest smile and caused his heart to skip a beat with both awe and arousal.
“Wait—”
A dog barked. Voices echoed at his back. She jerked her head up to look toward the castle, and her smile faded. Those eyes grew hard and focused. Before he could reach her, she took off at a run across the castle wall.
Every muscle in his body froze.
Another crack.
He slapped the palm of his left hand against the wall walk and managed to hurl his right forearm over the edge. The trellis gave beneath his feet. Wood splintered and fractured. The entire section pulled from the wall and slammed to the ground.
Sweat slicked his skin. Muscles in his arms burned as he held his weight on the edge of the wall. He might be part hero, but he didn’t have Theron’s superhuman strength. And though he knew if he fell it likely wouldn’t kill him, it would definitely shatter his legs, sidelining him for he didn’t know how long. More time in a freaking hospital bed was not his idea of a good time.
A scream echoed. From his peripheral vision, he saw an eagle, diving straight for him.
He ground his teeth, grunted, and pulled himself up. The eagle swooped low, screeched with a shrill that echoed off the inside of his skull, almost nailed him in the head then took off for the sky at the last second. Titus’s fingers slipped. His legs swung out away from the wall. The weight of his body jerked on his arms.
Something soft brushed against his hand. He looked up to see the end of a rope resting near his fingers.
He grasped the rope and pulled himself up. Chest heaving, he threw his leg over the ledge and climbed to his knees. He dragged air into his lungs then cursed the injury that had left him weak.
His gaze strayed down the walk in the direction Natasa had run. She stood at the corner where two walls intersected, another rope in her hand, looking back at him as if…checking to make sure he’d made it.