“I don’t care about your heritage, Orpheus.” Isadora stepped in his path, blocking him again. “And if you won’t cop to the fact you had a hand in defeating Atalanta, fine. I don’t care. My father thinks you’re a questionable source anyway. What I need right now is for you to take me to Nick.”
His jaw locked. “I’m not a fucking bus driver, Isa. And I’m on my way out, in case you haven’t noticed. Besides, you already owe me way more than I’ll ever be able to collect.”
“You can have whatever you want. Whenever you want. As soon as we get back. I won’t even argue with you.” She moved closer. “Just please, please help me. You’re my last hope.”
Yeah, like he hadn’t heard that one before. “Why should I?”
“You have no reason to. Except…” She bit her lip as if trying to decide which tactic to use next. “Except helping me will piss off the Council.”
“I can do that any damn day of the week.”
“This is different,” Callia added behind her. “We’re talking seriously piss them off.”
“With a passion,” Casey said in agreement.
He flicked looks at both sisters, then at Isadora again. The princess was clearly desperate, but he couldn’t figure out why. Demetrius was Atalanta’s fucking son. Why the hell was she so frantic to save his life after what the guardian had done?
He knew there was one surefire way to get her to back the hell off. He leaned in close. “I only want one thing, Isa, the same damn thing I’ve always wanted. You. But this time I don’t just want you for a quick little affair. I want you whenever and however and for as long as I’m interested. Are you willing to relinquish your future in order to save his life?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
He drew back, shocked by her answer.
“I said yes, Orpheus.” She blinked once, like it was no big deal. “Can we go now?”
“You…you don’t even want to think about it?”
“I don’t have to.”
Holy shit. “You’re in love with him.”
“Yes.” Honesty raced across her face. He looked to her sisters, who both nodded in support.
His gaze shifted back to Isadora. “How can you feel anything for him, knowing what he is?”
“The truth?” When he nodded, she said, “I love him more because of what he is. He could have given himself over to the darkness at any time, but he never did. The Council is wrong. He never tried to hurt me. He tried to save Gryphon in that field and he rescued me more times than I can count. And I will do whatever I have to in order to do the same for him. Including give myself to you. You can have my body. I don’t even care anymore. Because my heart will always belong to him.”
Orpheus looked to the sisters again and caught their disgusted expressions, but he barely cared. Was it possible someone could love pure evil?
“Please,” Isadora said gently, stepping close and laying her hand on his lower arm. “Please help me.”
He looked down at her fingers, resting on the Argonaut markings on his skin—the ones that should be on Gryphon’s arms—and felt something stir in his chest. It wasn’t his soul, because he didn’t have one. It was some heroic fucking honor that had passed from Gryphon into him when his brother’s soul had gone to Hades.
“Sonofabitch,” he muttered. “I don’t want this responsibility. I never wanted it. Do you get that?”
“No one will force you to serve with the Argonauts if you don’t want to. On that you have my word.” She squeezed his arm. “Please, Orpheus.”
He ground his teeth and looked toward the door. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t ever going to be a hero. Helping her now didn’t change that fact, and the Argonauts could kiss his ass for all he cared. “Fine. Whatever. But if you get kidnapped by witches again, just know I’m not saving your ass.”
Relief rushed over Isadora’s face. A relief that stirred whatever was in his chest again and made him wish like hell he just didn’t give a damn.
But he did. Motherfucker, he did.
“Well, if it isn’t the Witches of Eastwick and the Grand Poobah himself.” Standing in the middle of the empty hall in the colony’s new digs, Nick Blades frowned at the newcomers he considered a major-ass interruption.
“You’re just jealous ’cause I got the hotties and you’ve got a fucking migraine,” Orpheus said.
Wasn’t that the damn truth?
“How about this one?” Helene asked, holding up a box.
Nick pointed the pen in his hand toward the stairs to his right. “Third-floor kitchen, Helene.”
As Helene disappeared around the corner, Nick caught the half grin on Casey’s face from the corner of his eye. “It’s nice to see you again too, Nick.”
He leaned down so she could kiss his cheek, then straightened, refocusing on the task at hand. Activity flowed around him, the bustle of people moving to and fro as they worked to get the ancient castle, nestled in a fjord high in the mountains of Montana, fortified and stocked. It wasn’t his first choice for a location, but since the Misos colony in Oregon had been destroyed, it was the only place he’d found big enough for his people. And built on an island in the middle of an ancient lake, it was as isolated and secure as they were going to get. For now, at least.
“Where’s Hercules?” he asked Casey without looking up. “Does yesterday’s hero know you’re walking on the wild side today?”
Casey frowned at the mention of her husband. “He’s fine. And no, he doesn’t know I’m here.” She glanced toward the cathedral windows that looked down over the crystal blue lake. “Nick, where on earth did you find this place? It’s like Hogwarts, straight out of a Harry Potter movie.”
Frustrated, Nick rubbed a hand over the long jagged scar on the left side of his face. The one that was a stark reminder of just how much those in Argolea cared about his people. The only reason he answered was that Casey was a Misos just like him. “You know there’s a colony in northern Russia, right? Some Russian prince’s servant’s brother’s cousin’s aunt or some shit like that is a Misos. He had this castle built sometime back in the 1800s but never got here because he was killed. When I contacted the other colonies to see about moving our people around temporarily until we could find more permanent digs, the Russian leader told me about this place and offered it to us.”
“Wow,” Casey said. “Just like that?”
No, not just like that. There were conditions. And it didn’t matter how much Nick liked Casey, he wasn’t going to get into those conditions with her or the future queen of Argolea. Ever.
“What the hell are the four of you doing here, anyway?” he asked, nearing the end of his patience for the day.
The princess moved forward from the back of the group. “We came to talk to you about your brother.”
Nick clenched his jaw and went back to his checklist. “Not interested.”
“They’re going to kill him,” Isadora protested.
“Oh yeah?” He didn’t look up or care who “they” were. “I’m sure he deserves it. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to—”
Isadora wrenched the clipboard from his hands before he could turn away. “The king knows Atalanta is his mother. And we know she’s yours too.”
The scars on Nick’s back—more blasted reminders—tingled with awareness, reawakening the blackness deep inside. His fiery gaze shot to Orpheus, standing behind the women with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his pants. “Hear her out, Nico.”