Chapter Twenty
“Wow,” Skyla said, brushing her blond hair back from her face. “I didn’t see that one coming.”
Maelea twisted her hands in her lap. Part of her was relieved she’d been able to tell someone what had happened between her and Gryphon. The other part was scared to death, now that it was out there. “I know. I didn’t see it coming either. Neither of us planned it.”
“No one ever does,” Skyla said with a curl of her lips.
“What’s going to happen to him?” Maelea asked.
“I don’t know,” Skyla answered. “I’m new to all this Argonaut brotherhood stuff. But it’s not just the Argonauts he has to answer to. The Council of Elders here—the lords that advise the queen—found out what happened at the colony. And somehow they found out about the string of daemon remains he left from Montana to British Columbia.”
“That wasn’t all his fault,” Maelea cut in. “I was responsible for a few of those kills myself.”
Admiration swam in Skyla’s eyes. “You were, huh? Good for you. I always knew you had it in you. But regardless”—she frowned—“the Council’s always looking for any excuse to undermine the Argonauts. I have a feeling this could turn into a political nightmare.”
“I could talk to them. Tell them what really happened.”
“Uh, no.” Skyla’s face grew wary. “They get one whiff of you and things will go from bad to worse. Remember Nick’s reaction at the colony when we showed up with you?”
Sickness brewed in Maelea’s stomach as she remembered back. Yeah, Nick had not been happy to see her.
“The Council will freak if they think Gryphon did anything to draw Hades’s attention to the Argolean realm,” Skyla added.
Maelea hadn’t thought of that. She didn’t want to do anything to make things worse for Gryphon.
“I need to see him,” she whispered, almost afraid to say the words out loud.
“I don’t know if that’s going to be possible,” Skyla answered. “At least right now. He’s with Theron and the others. And Orpheus. Orpheus is more than a little pissed at him.”
“Because of me.”
“He cares about you.”
Maelea knew that. She also knew that Orpheus was wrestling with his own guilt, where she was concerned. He felt responsible for bringing her to the half-breed colony. For exposing her to Hades. For putting her in Gryphon’s path. But he had nothing to feel sorry for anymore. In fact, if she could thank him right now, she would. “He has no reason to be mad at Gryphon.”
Skyla’s face softened. “I’ll try to talk to him. See if I can smooth it over.”
If anyone could, it would be Skyla. She had a way with Orpheus. She—
The French doors that led to the balcony pushed open. And Maelea’s heart lurched into her throat when Gryphon stepped into the room. “Oh my gods.”
She didn’t remember pushing off the bed. Didn’t remember crossing the floor. But she would forever remember the way his arms closed around her with stinging force when she reached him. The way his eyes brightened. The way he whispered “Sotiria” and lowered his mouth to hers with a fierceness that stole her breath.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him back with everything she had in her. Didn’t even care that Skyla was watching.
Worry filled his light blue eyes when he finally eased back. “You’re okay? I saw you fall. I was so worried.” His gaze strayed to her forehead. “Skata, your head.”
Her fingers passed over the bandage near her hairline. “It’s okay. It’s not bad. I didn’t even need stitches.”
“Thank the Fates,” he breathed, pulling her tight again and burying his face in her hair. “Scared me, sotiria.”
She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around him again, and just luxuriated in being close to him. She’d been so scared too. When she saw those hellhounds, she’d thought that was it. The end of everything. Just when she’d finally found a reason to live. When she’d finally been given a reason to let go of her dream of Olympus.
His body stiffened against her, and she eased back, watched his eyes narrow and focus over her shoulder.
She turned to look behind her. Skyla eased off the bed, a smug expression on her face.
Gryphon tried to push her behind him, but Maelea wasn’t having any of that. “It’s okay, Gryphon. Skyla knows.”
His gaze dropped to her with surprise. “You told her?”
“I told her everything.”
His eyes widened. “Everything?”
Maelea’s lips curled, because she knew he was thinking back to that boat. And the stairs at her beach house. And the beach. And the kitchen table. And the sofa… “Well, not everything.”
Heat flared in his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her. “Don’t tease me. Not yet.” Before she could answer, he looked back to Skyla. “I’m taking her with me.”
“I figured you might,” Skyla said.
“Don’t try to stop me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. How did you get away from the Argonauts?”
“Orpheus.”
Surprise flashed in her green eyes, followed by approval. “Well, I’ll be.”
“The Council’s already looking for me. They’ll be down here soon enough.”
“The Council?” Skyla’s gaze shifted to Maelea. “Shit. You two need to get out of here now, then.” She moved to the door, opened it, and peeked out. “Coast is clear.”
Maelea lifted the cardigan someone had brought for her from the bed, tugged it on. “Where are we going?”
“As far from Tiyrns as we can,” Gryphon said, nudging her toward the door.
“Gryphon, wait.” Skyla stopped him at the door. “Don’t take her back to the human realm. She’s safer here. Even with the Council.”
“Don’t worry. They won’t get their hands on her.”
A smile spread across Skyla’s face. “It’s good to see you looking…human.”
A slow smile turned Gryphon’s lips. “It’s good not to need your singing, Siren.”
Skyla chuckled as she pulled the door open, then sobered. “Go. Before it’s too late. And good luck. To both of you.”
Gryphon looked right and left, pulled Maelea out into the wide hall with him. “What was that about?” Maelea whispered as they headed for a back set of stairs.
“What?”
“The ‘singing’ comment?”
“Skyla has a way of taming…things…with her voice. It’s how she and Orpheus got me out of the Underworld when I was freaking out.”
Maelea’s heart bumped as they headed for a steel door. Thank the Fates for Skyla, too.
Gryphon typed numbers into a keypad and the door hissed open. A small, dimly lit set of circular stairs looked as if they led down into the bowels of the realm. They moved inside. The door closed behind them. They seemed to descend forever. When they reached the bottom step, Gryphon dragged her toward a wooden door, illuminated only by the dim yellow lights in the ceiling.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“The undercroft. It’s where we store extra weapons.”
He typed another code into yet another access panel. The door swung open. Inside sat racks and racks of weapons—knives, swords, throwing stars, things with serrated teeth she didn’t know how to define.
He grabbed a multitude of weapons. Strapped on a scabbard, which he slung over his head so it cut across his back. Slipped others into pockets she didn’t know he had. He handed her a dagger.
Her stomach rolled at the thought of having to use the weapons. Obviously, he expected someone to come after them. The Argonauts? This so-called Council? Would they really try to kill them? For the first time she realized everything he was leaving behind by being with her. “Gryphon—”
He grasped her hand, pulled her back out of the room. “Come on, we don’t have a lot of time.”