What he did wonder about was whether or not he was trapped in something akin to the Cage of Compulsion that Lucien was in the process of hiding, where the prisoner was compelled to do whatever the owner of said cage wanted. He'd rather cut out his heart than become Rhea's slave.
He wanted her head on a platter. A platter he would then gift to Scarlet as a token of his affection. Scarlet...
Where was she? What was she doing? He would speculate every day until he saw her. It wasn't that he was worried about her, either. The girl could take care of herself better than anyone he'd ever met. He simply missed her. She was a part of his life now. The best part.
He wanted to create new memories with her. Real memories, better than the ones she'd woven herself. He wanted to be there for her and make up for all the years he'd ignored her while she rotted in Tartarus.
First, though, he had to escape this fucking hell hole.
"Ray!" he shouted, shaking the bars. Gods, he reminded himself of Galen. Frantic, desperate. "Ray!"
Once again, a bright azure light filled his line of vision. Gideon remained on his knees, though he hated to do so. But there was no room in the cage, and standing wasn't an option.
Rhea appeared in the center of the bedroom, her pretty features tired and tight, her dark hair in tangles. No more gray, he realized. She wore a white robe that was stained with blood and soot. So yep, she'd been with Galen.
"You rang?" Hate and smugness mixed in her tone, creating a timbre that scraped at his ears. "So eager for your punishment?"
He knew no one would be swooping in to rescue him. He'd tried to remove his butterfly necklace, which blocked his whereabouts from all immortals, but somehow, some way, the metal had been fused together and now refused to part. He couldn't even lift the links over his head.
Rhea's doing, he was sure.
His guess? She didn't want Cronus finding him or even knowing what she did to him.
She waved her hand through the air and, shockingly, the bars around him disappeared. Since the bars behind him had been holding him up, he fell to his ass. Gideon was quick to recover, though, and jumped to his feet. He didn't have a weapon, as those had been magically removed.
"Smart of you," he remarked. She was as much a fool as Galen.
"Lunge at me, I dare you," she replied, remaining in place. Her teeth were bared, as if she couldn't wait to rip into him and work off a little steam.
He would have loved to accommodate her. He wanted her head on that platter, after all. But he wasn't Strider, and he didn't have to respond to every challenge. He didn't have to give the bitch what she wanted. Besides, he didn't know what powers she possessed, didn't know what she was capable of, but he did know what her husband could do and if she were anything like him...Gideon shuddered. He would lose before the fight even began.
"Well, coward? Just going to stand there?"
"Yes." He turned his back on her, heard her insulted gasp of breath and strode to the other side of the room as if he hadn't a care. He stopped in front of a vanity, lifted a perfume bottle to his nose and sniffed. Grimaced. Did she actually wear this shit? It was potent, like bat wings mixed with eye of newt.
"I have removed all the exits, so wipe all thoughts of escape from your puny mind. You're as trapped in this room as you were in the cage."
Truth. Lies hissed inside his head. "Sounds wonderful." He replaced the perfume and lifted a brush. Several strands of hair were intertwined in the bristles.
"What do you mean, wonderful? It's terrible, and you know it."
She knew he was possessed by the demon of Lies, she just hadn't connected the dots yet. Oh, the fun he could have with her, he thought, cutting off his grin before it could form.
"I'm not curious about why you brought me here and what you plan to do with me," he said.
"Ha! I know better. You're seething with curiosity."
He merely shrugged as he tossed the brush back onto the vanity surface, watching as it skidded and crashed into a jar of green paste. Clearly Rhea cared about her appearance. "Actually, I'm seething with worry for Galen. Please tell me he's recovered, oh, beautiful queen."
"Liar! You don't care about Galen." He never heard the woman move, but in the next instant, she was behind him, claws digging into his neck and whipping him around. "You hate him, want him dead. Well, guess what? You didn't get your wish. He's alive, and he will heal."
"Awesome."
She popped her jaw, eyes glittering. "He begged me to kill you. I told him no, that I had other plans for you."
Again, truth. Lies hissed at her. "Lucky me."
Scowling, she released him. But not for long. All too soon, she returned her hands to him, but this time, the action wasn't born of anger but of determination.
"Think yourself unflappable, do you? Well, let's see what we can do about that. Let's make you more comfortable." Her voice had become husky with sensual promise.
Hell. No. Scarlet was the only woman he wanted to bed. But he couldn't move away from Rhea. Somehow, she had pinned his feet in place. Relax your expression, boy. Don't let her know she's getting to you.
One of her fingers traced the center of his T-shirt and the material burned away, the cotton smoldering completely and leaving his chest bare. His skin remained cool to the touch.
Oh, yes, she was powerful.
"Wow. Thanks." Calm, smooth. No way would he let her know just how much he hated this. "This does feel better."
Bewildered, she stepped back, widening the distance between them. "I thought you liked my daughter."
"Wrong."
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What game do you play?"
"No game." A grin lifted the corners of his lips.
For a long while, she simply stared at him, gauging. Then she squared her shoulders. "You're lying. You love her. I can tell. But let's see how long that lasts, shall we?" Gaze never leaving him, she reached for the scooped bodice of her robe and tugged. The material split down the center, drooped from her arms and fell to the floor, leaving her utterly naked.
Gideon's molars ground together. He could just imagine his confession to Scarlet, because no way would he try and keep something like this a secret. He wanted no secrets between them. Ever. And besides, better she hear this from him than her bitch of a mother who would skew the facts. Hey, devil, your mom—you know, the woman you love so much—didn't disrobe in front of me and I didn't see her wax preference.
He'd deserve another fork to the chest.
"Gorgeous, aren't I?" Rhea smoothed her palms over the jagged butterfly tattoo gracing her breasts and shoulders, then down her sides, over her perfectly curved hips and then inched around to the apex of her thighs, where her fingers dabbled at the fine tuft of dark hair.
Every bit the coward she'd accused him of being, he peered up at the domed ceiling, watching as fluffy white clouds drifted by. Dread bloomed in his veins and spread through his entire body. He could guess where this was heading.
"Well?" she demanded.
"Yeah. Gorgeous."
"Tsk, tsk. Your tone suggests you're lying again, but we both know you desire me. And soon Scarlet will know it, too."
Motherfucker! His guess had been right, then. She planned to rape him. And it would be rape, because there was no way he'd consent. Then she would tattle to her daughter. Mother of the Year Award, meet Rhea. Or not.
Once again, Rhea reached out and touched him. Her fingers danced over the waist of his pants and those, too, burned away, smoldering as they fell, yet leaving his skin cool, unaffected.
"Isn't that so much bett...er." A growl of frustration escaped her.