Panic clawed its way up Callia’s throat. Her gaze darted back to Atalanta, who still had her eyes closed and seemed to be focusing on…something.
This was not good at all. Callia’s muscles went rigid. Her situation had not improved.
Atalanta’s eyes popped open, and she focused in on the daemon. “You’ve done well, Thanatos.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. His hands unclenched.
“This time,” Atalanta added. She nodded down at Callia. “She’s not just royal. She’s the boy’s mother.”
The daemon’s jaw dropped open. He looked down at Callia, then back at Atalanta. “The—”
“Bring her. If the boy doesn’t cooperate, she might become useful after all.” Atalanta turned for the door.
The daemon hesitated, seemed to debate his options, but then he grabbed Callia’s arm and pulled her up.
Fire erupted in Callia’s abdomen all over again, and she cried out as the daemon jostled her into a sitting position. Blood spurted from the gash across her chest and torso.
Atalanta whipped back around and for the first time focused in on the bloody wounds. Her gaze darted toward the daemon. “You weren’t going to kill her.”
“I…” The daemon shifted his grip so he was behind Cal-lia. “She fought back.”
Atalanta’s eyes burned to sharp points of light. “You were going to use her as a bargaining chip.” She advanced. “Were you planning to create your own heir?”
The daemon let go of Callia’s arm and took a step back. He held up his hands in front of him. “No, my queen. Of course not. I was going to bring her to you.”
Alarm rang through Callia’s mind.
“Liar!” Atalanta’s hand shot out. Callia ducked down on the table and covered her head. A beam of energy blasted from Atalanta’s palm and hit the daemon square in the chest. His body sailed back and crashed into the pantry on the back end of the small closet-sized kitchen. The shelves splintered and collapsed. Pots and pans, jars and cans rained down around him. He groaned and tried to get up but couldn’t.
“I am the only ruler in this world. Not even the gods can touch me.” Atalanta skirted the table and shot another blast at the daemon.
He moaned and writhed. “My…queen.”
She stood over him, menace washing her face white. “I am the only queen you will ever know. My mercy saved you, Thanatos. And your quest for power just condemned you.”
She blasted him again, and Callia covered her ears and curled into herself to block the nightmarish screams from her mind. Burning flesh scarred the air. It wasn’t until smoke drifted out of the kitchen that she realized that with Atalanta distracted, this was her one shot to get away.
Callia dropped her hands. Pain radiated across her torso. Sweat slid down her temple. Before she got a foot on the floor, Atalanta was in front of her.
Atalanta reached out a hand. Callia tensed, half expecting another pulse of energy to split her in two, but there was nowhere to go.
Atalanta’s hand hovered directly over Callia’s wounded stomach and chest. And as Callia had done to her own patients too many times to count, she felt the wounds closing from the inside out. Sharp sparks of pain pulsed all around the gashes, and she hissed in an agonizing breath. The pain condensed until it was drawn out like a needle pulling thread, leaving behind only a mild sting. Bewildered, she stared down at her stomach as the twinges prickled her skin, and the slashes in her flesh sealed themselves right before her eyes.
Slowly, she looked up. Atalanta’s eyes were closed as Callia’s often were when she provided a healing treatment. And though it was completely insane, a strange sort of communion passed between them. Healer to healer. Female to female. Mother to…
Suddenly the demigod’s face contorted and she jerked her hand back. Her coal black eyes flew open and zeroed in on Callia’s. “I see what you and the others have planned, Eirene.”
“What?” Instinct told Callia whatever the demigod had seen was not good. “I…”
Atalanta took three frantic steps back, reached for something at her chest. Her face darkened as she grappled against the fabric of her robe. She froze. Fury raced across her features, colored her pale skin red. “Maximus!”
Her bellow shook the small cabin.
Atalanta jerked toward Callia again. “Killing you solves two problems. You and your guardian will pay for Maxi-mus’s treason.” The demigod held out the hand that had burned the daemon into dust and started toward Callia. Only this time there was no healing in her expression. There was pure, unadulterated murder.
Oh, shit.
Callia braced herself. Wished like hell she’d stayed in that cave with Zander after all. And then she screamed.
The light grew stronger. As they came to a break in the trees, Zander realized Titus was right. The glow was coming from the windows of some kind of cabin. He squinted to see clearer. Would Callia be desperate enough to turn to humans for help?
“Depends on how bad you pissed her off,” Titus said at his side.
Zander cut his gaze to the guardian beside him, not for the first time hating the fact Titus knew every one of his goddamn thoughts.
Titus frowned. “For the record, I’m not wild about it either.” He nodded toward the run-down cabin. “You wanna knock or go balls-in?”
Zander was just about to tell Titus where he could stick his balls when a roar shook the trees, followed by a sharp, shrill, bone-chilling scream. His muscles tensed. The headache he’d been battling the last five minutes dimmed to a passing throb. Instinct ruled as he reached for his blade. “That was Callia.”
Titus grabbed for his own parazonium. “You sure?”
Hell yeah, he was sure. He’d know the sound of her voice anywhere.
“Zander, wait!”
Zander charged the front door of the cabin and kicked it in with his boot. A blur of red whipped his way. The eyes of the female peering back at him grew so wide he could see the whites all around her black irises. Behind her, Callia lay faceup on a table, her shirt ripped open, blood staining her skin and clothing.
He lifted his blade, let the rage consume him and charged.
Atalanta flicked her hand his way.
“Zander!” Callia screamed. “No!”
Energy shot into his body and threw him backward, a lot like it had in the cave when Callia had attacked him, only this was ten thousand times worse. He hit the doorjamb hard. Wood shattered around him as he fell out of the cabin and landed with a brutal thump against the frozen ground. Wood rained down from above. Pain ricocheted through his torso and stole his breath.
Voices echoed from inside. Callia’s? Titus’s? Screams followed by more shouts. Growls and roars erupted from behind the building, followed by the clank of weapon against weapon.
“Zander! Get the fuck in here!”
Zander pushed up on shaky hands and knees. Ground his teeth against the pain and hauled his ass forward. He wobbled, caught himself, lurched for the doorway. When he finally got there and looked inside, the scene was something out of a nightmare.
Titus faced off against two daemons, his blade arcing out and around. Callia darted under the table to get away from a third. Her arm was bloody, her face ashen and bruised. Atalanta was nowhere in sight.
“Zander!” The daemon advancing on Callia caught her foot and hauled her back and out from under the table. He flipped her to her back. As he brought his blade back, she leapt to her feet and thrust her hands against the monster’s chest.
The daemon howled in relentless pain but was strong enough to backhand her across the room. She hit the far wall with a deafening thwack and slumped to the floor.