“I trusted you,” he said with more calm than he expected, though inside, retribution cut through him like a hot, sharp knife. “I should have known better than to put my faith in a female whose soul is as black as mine.”
“Gryphon—”
“Thanks to your mother, I realized what you really are before it’s too late. I can’t believe I nearly got killed protecting you from Hades’s hellhounds.”
At his back, Persephone hissed. And he felt, rather than saw, the goddess dissipate into nothing but her own fit of rage.
Beside him, Orpheus materialized. “Gryphon, what the hell—”
Tears ran down Maelea’s cheeks as she stepped forward. “Just let me explain—”
Gryphon flinched out of her grip and stepped far, far away from her. “No, I’ve wasted way too much time on you as it is. You’re good, female. I have to admit that much. But like I said before, you’re not irresistible. Thank your mother for reminding me what really matters in this life.”
Orpheus called out to him, but he was already flashing, flying over land and water and reappearing at the gatehouse, where the portal that led into the human realm was housed.
The two executive guards on duty lurched to their feet, but the darkness inside had all but consumed him, and Gryphon moved faster than both, disarming them and leaving them in a tangle of limbs on the floor before either could draw a weapon. “Stay fucking down,” he growled as he kicked their weapons aside. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t follow.”
He moved for the portal, hesitated at the edge, and closed his eyes to listen for the voice.
Now that he was away from Maelea, he could hear it. Could feel the pull in the center of his chest, calling him back. All he had to do was follow it. As he let it guide him, he let go of all those silly fantasies he’d had the last few days and refocused on what was important.
Freedom.
Not from the Argonauts or the Council or the half-breed colony, but from Atalanta. From the voice and darkness. From the threat of the Underworld lingering over him like a black cloud. A threat he should have been thinking about all along.
“I didn’t take it,” Maelea said in a frantic voice to Orpheus. A voice she couldn’t control.
“What the hell is going on?” Orpheus asked.
Beside him, three more Argonauts appeared—Theron, Demetrius, and Zander—all sporting the same pissed-off expressions. But Maelea didn’t shrivel into the background the way she normally would when faced with four gigantic warriors. She stood her ground and focused on Orpheus. “Persephone appeared to me in that motel when Gryphon stepped outside, and she offered me a deal. She wanted me to get her the Orb. To convince Gryphon to bring me here so I could take it. But I didn’t. I didn’t agree to anything, I swear it. I didn’t even plan to come here. You and Titus and Skyla brought us here. I haven’t even been alone. Callia or Skyla have been with me the whole time. Orpheus, I’m not lying to you. I wasn’t lying to Gryphon, but he…”
Oh, gods. Her heart contracted so hard, the pain stole her breath. She covered her mouth with her hand to hold back the sob. He thought she’d betrayed him. That she’d used him. And why wouldn’t he? Look at her parents. Lies and betrayal and thievery ruled all the gods. Genetics weren’t on her side. And then there was her own admitted obsession with Olympus. And his abuse at the hands of another god, Atalanta.
Her stomach rolled. Tears burned her eyes. Dammit, she never should have used that elixir her mother had given her. She hadn’t been trying to seduce him as Persephone wanted. She’d simply been trying to get him to cooperate so she could save their lives.
Orpheus gripped her upper arms. “Focus, Maelea. Where did Gryphon go? He said something about thanking Persephone for reminding him what matters most.”
She blinked back the tears. Told herself to keep it together. She had to make this right. She had to find a way. “He…he’s been planning to go after Atalanta all along. It’s why he left the colony. He was getting ready to leave me at the beach house and do just that when you and Skyla and Titus showed up. It’s her voice he hears in his head. When he was in the Underworld, Krónos bound them together. She’s been calling to him. He thinks the only way he’s going to be free of her is to kill her.”
“Skata,” Theron said at Orpheus’s side. “Did he say where she is?”
“No.” Maelea shook her head. “He never said, and I don’t think he knows. But he can find her, just by listening to the voice. By giving in to the pull. Krónos gave them six months to find the Orb or he’ll drag them both back to the Underworld, and he’s running out of time.”
“Skata,” Theron said again, glancing toward Zander. “That fucking Orb. We’ll never find him.”
“I gave him Titus’s fancy transmitter,” Orpheus said, letting go of Maelea and pulling his out of his pocket.
“It’ll only work if he’s still in Argolea,” Theron said.
“Does he have the Orb on him?” Zander asked as Orpheus tried to contact Gryphon.
“I don’t think so,” Maelea answered. “I didn’t sense it. But I can only sense the Orb if it’s being used, and it—oh, my gods.”
She gripped Orpheus’s arm, swayed on her feet.
He reached out to steady her. “Maelea? What’s wrong?”
Energy whipped through her. An energy with power like no other. A power that was definitely being used.
“The Orb,” she managed in a shaky voice. “Someone just used it to open a portal to the human realm.”
“Gryphon?” Orpheus asked.
She swallowed hard. Shook her head. Turned toward Zander, because the face she saw now in her mind was one she’d seen at the half-breed colony. “No,” she whispered. “Your son.”
Max wasn’t sure where to open the portal, so he picked the woods surrounding the old half-breed colony in Oregon. He knew patrols still ran in that area, looking for half-breeds who’d yet to move over to the new location. Hoped he’d run into one today.
Rustling in the trees at his back caught his attention and he whipped that way, only to freeze when the god stepped out of the darkness, heading right for him, a smirk across his menacing face.
Max moved back a step. He didn’t know who the god was, but he sensed his power. And a whole lot of darkness—darkness like Atalanta’s.
“You proved to be quite the Argonaut, boy. And completely predictable. Now I’ll take the Orb and we can both be on our way.”
Max’s mind spun. Then his eyes caught sight of the mark of the Underworld peeking out from under the collar of the god’s shirt.
Hades.
Max swallowed hard. And fear burst in his chest. What was Hades doing here? How did he know Max had the Orb? How did he…?
Lachesis.
Oh, shit.
He hadn’t once thought to question the Fate in the woods outside Tiyrns. He’d been too upset. But thinking back now, he realized the eyes were different from the last time he’d spoken to the Fate. The eyes, he realized now, were dead black shards of coal like those in Hades’s head.
The Orb burned hot against his flesh where it rested on a chain around his neck under his shirt. Infused him with power. He still wasn’t any match for a god, but he’d gotten away from Atalanta with nothing but the Orb. Maybe, if he played his cards right…
“You son of a bitch,” a female voice hissed. “You are not to go after my daughter.”
Hades’s head swiveled to the side. Toward the dark-haired female dressed in a black robe, also appearing from the darkness of the trees, hatred and retribution alive on her pale, perfect face. “My love—”