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I see you, Horae.

Callia gasped. Her eyes shot open. She looked from Casey to Isadora, neither of whom seemed startled at all. Their eyes were closed, their faces calm. They each breathed slowly, their hands resting gently on the glowing orb.

Yes, you, Eirene.

When Callia looked back, she didn’t see the comfortable living room around her; she saw Atalanta once more, the throne she was seated on and the stone walls at her back.

I see into your mind. I know what it is you want. We are not that different, you and me. The ones left behind. The ones shunned by the mighty heroes. You know why he refused you.

Callia’s heart picked up speed. She tried to pull her hand back from the orb but couldn’t. It was cemented in place.

Because you are female. And to him that means weak. Do you honestly think he forbids you to fight because he wants to protect you? Because he loves you? She sneered. An Argonaut does not know love. He is a product of the egotistical god from which he was spawned.

“You lie.”

He represses you because he can, Atalanta went on as if Callia hadn’t even spoken. Because his kind has been doing it since ancient times. And because you, Eirene, are his vulnerability. His weakness. His Achilles’ heel. Do you think he cares if you live or die? He cares only for himself.

“No,” Callia whispered.

Ask him, female. And learn the truth. No male, especially an Argonaut, has honor in his heart. Not when his existence is on the line.

Thoughts of Zander ran through Callia’s mind. Of their time together in the past. Of his admissions earlier today, here, in this very colony. Of his immortality. Of the fact he’d told her she was his life.

A feral smile crossed Atalanta’s face. One that challenged and mocked. Yes, Eirene. You know I speak the truth. He needs you only to live. And he and the others will go on repressing you for as long as they possibly can.

No, it couldn’t be true…

Your heroes walk into a trap. My daemons are waiting for them. Her voice dropped to a hiss. And they will be slaughtered. Every one of them.

Callia swallowed hard. “Zander can’t be killed.”

But he can be hurt. And my daemons will take great pleasure in torturing him until you die of old age.

Fear knifed into Callia’s heart.

Of course, I may be willing to make a trade…

Atalanta gestured to her right, and that’s when Callia saw the boy. Leaning against the wall, his head tipped to the side in sleep, his hands bound behind him and his legs stretched out on the floor. And that heart she thought had broken so long ago roared to life in her chest. He was a miniature version of Zander. With blond hair and bronzed skin and a face that looked like it had been kissed by angels.

I’m willing to spare young Maximus’s life. For something of even greater value.

At the anticipation in Atalanta’s voice, Callia’s gaze shifted back to the demigod. And understanding dawned. “You want the orb.”

Not just the orb, Eirene. I want you as well.

A voice in Callia’s head screamed No! but the one in her heart told her this was her only option. She would do anything for her son. Even sacrifice her life to save his. And Zander…

She couldn’t let Zander and the others walk into a trap. Not when she could do something to save them. Not when she knew in her heart Zander did love her. He hadn’t left her here because she was his vulnerability, as Atalanta claimed. He’d left her to keep her safe.

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

Because I give it to you as a hero. As a female. As a mother. Come now, Eirene. You must know once I have you and the Orb of Krónos, I won’t need the others anymore.

Yeah, right. Callia wasn’t stupid enough to buy that one. “And what about my sisters?”

I care not for the Chosen. This is between you and me. They cannot hear our conversation. Atalanta tipped her head. Tell me, Eirene…just what are you willing to sacrifice for balance in this world and the next?

Callia glanced at Casey and Isadora, both oblivious to what was happening right under their noses. All her life she’d sat back and done nothing while others made decisions for her. And in the end…what had happened? The ones she loved were hurt because of who and what she was. Now she understood why. And now she had the chance to change things.

She didn’t believe Atalanta would keep her word, not for a second. And she wasn’t stupid enough to take the demigod the orb. But if she could get away from the colony, if she could figure out where Atalanta was holding her son…Maybe she could alert Zander, and he and the others could reach the boy before it was too late. Atalanta only needed one blood relative of the Horae. Callia would gladly trade herself for her son. And she knew Atalanta wouldn’t kill her if she truly needed her, which meant Zander would be safe as well.

She glanced at the satellite phone just out of her reach. At the one Nick had left for them in case there was an emergency. And before the half-breed leader’s directions even passed through her mind, she had her answer. If she did nothing, Zander and the others were lost. If she took the deal, only her life was forfeit.

And that was fitting, wasn’t it? Considering her life had brought them all to this point to begin with.

She refocused on Atalanta. “Tell me how to find you.”

Simon sat in a high-backed chair in the formal living room of the home he shared with his daughter. On his lap he held a scrapbook his wife had put together before her death. On the table in front of him, the untouched glass of brandy reflected the low lights in the room.

He flipped the page and looked at a picture of Callia as a young girl, digging in the dirt behind their house. Another showed her with jam all over her smiling face. Yet another was of her opening gifts on her sixth birthday. Page after page of pictures of her life filled the book. Pictures of her with her mother. Of her with him. Of her alone.

She was alone now, wasn’t she? And it was all his fault. Tears burned the backs of his eyes. Tears he had no right shedding. Because of his desire to make her his daughter by virtue, if not by blood, he’d taken away everything she’d ever cared about. A true father wouldn’t do that. A loving father would have put her needs first.

A knock at the door brought his head up. But he didn’t rise. He had no desire to move. The knocking turned to a rapid pounding.

“Simon, open this goddamn door!”

Lucian. Simon exhaled and closed his eyes. He had no interest in dealing with the Council right now. Didn’t care what their punishment for his lies was going to be. Did it even matter anymore? He’d already lost the only thing that had ever meant anything to him. Every time he thought of the look of utter betrayal on Callia’s face when she realized what he’d done…

“Have you gone deaf?” Lucian asked from the doorway.

Too late Simon realized Lucian was already standing in his living room. The blasted servants had left the door unlocked.

“You look like you’ve gone a round with Hades,” Lucian said. Still dressed in the traditional chison, he moved around the couch toward Simon. “Get up.”

Simon leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. “Go away. Whatever the Council has decided, I’ll face it tomorrow. Right now…right now I just want to be alone.”

Lucian’s footsteps stopped in front of Simon’s chair. “Lou-kas is missing.”