But she knew Warrick better.
He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.
“They’re coming.” She tugged at her tank top and noticed she wasn’t wearing any pants under the blanket. “I don’t want to be hauled in front of the pantheon wearing nothing but a T-shirt.”
The guys stiffened, and Warrick signaled them with a dip of his chin. Nikos and Atticus hurried out the door, both of them dropping into warrior mode.
Instead of fighting her, Keegan rummaged through her bag on the dresser and pulled out her clothes while Warrick began to check his weapons. “Why do you say they’re coming for you?”
“I—don’t know.” She cocked her head, curious about her own certainty. “I just know.”
His face shut down, masking any hint of emotion, which didn’t bode well for her, and she eyed him suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He looked her dead in the eyes, his own a chilling blue that practically gave her frostbite. “We don’t have time to discuss it. You need to get ready.”
Nikos burst into the room at a run, and he gave an abrupt nod, the cold-blooded killer in the place of her laughing psycho. “They are coming. They have the exits covered.”
Atticus entered behind him, wearing full body armor and practically an entire arsenal, the four guys taking up all the space in the tiny room.
She was dressed in under three minutes, feeling a combination of self-consciousness and annoyance at having them watch her every move. While the other guys got ready, Atticus shoved another sandwich at her before kneeling at her feet and lacing up her boots. She paused in her chewing, then gave into temptation, and combed her fingers through his red hair. She half expected to feel warmth from the dark flame color, but felt cool silk instead.
He stilled for a second, then gave a contented rumble. Just as he tied the last shoelace, he grabbed her wrist and nipped at her fingers, startling a laugh out of her. He smiled wickedly up at her, a devilish look warming his eyes for a few seconds before the playfulness of his wolf faded. “Whatever happens, don’t leave my side.”
He left before she could protest, and she had the unsettling feeling that the other guys were to be the distraction if they needed to get her out.
She didn’t like it.
She hesitated inside her room, then grabbed her bag, making sure all her belongings were inside. Before leaving, she quickly backtracked and grabbed Keegan’s glasses and tucked them in her pocket. As everyone else gathered into the main area, she hovered in the doorway of her room.
A hum of energy grabbed her attention. Instead of joining the others, she stepped into Warrick’s room and reached under the bed, her palms brushing across the blade buried in the mattress.
The God-Killer hummed against her hand in welcome.
She pulled the blade out and rose to her feet, her hand warming with the welcoming weight. As she headed back toward the others, she shoved the knife into the back of her pants…and screeched to a halt when she saw every one of the guys watching her with worried expressions.
She blinked at them, then shrugged. “We can’t leave it behind.”
They seemed to accept her answer, but their grim expressions filled her with foreboding.
Something was off.
Before she could push for answers, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Without waiting for anyone to answer the summons, the door opened and Atinius entered. Beyond him stood a whole team of elite soldiers. They were older, weathered by battle, nothing in their posture giving away their thoughts—they were the true soldiers of old.
“Octavia—” Atinius waited until he had her attention. “If you will follow me. I’m to take you to the pantheon for questioning.”
Her brain substituted questioning with sentencing.
She didn’t bother arguing.
If they tried to leave, she had no doubt it would be in body bags.
As she stepped into the hallway, Atinius remained at her side, the rest of the guys falling into formation behind them. The guards followed, and she understood why when they turned the corner and saw another set of guards waiting for them.
The only thing she heard in the hallway was the light brush of boots against the floor. Even though they were more than twenty people, they were nearly soundless. They passed the elevator and headed toward the stairwell.
Wanting to break the silence and shake off the feeling that she was walking toward the gallows, she smiled at Atinius. “I’m glad to see you survived.”
He grunted in reply, then unbent and gave her a nod. “Only thanks to you.” His movements were stiff as he stared straight ahead. “I want you to know I had nothing to do with either trap. I—”
“I know.” She didn’t let him finish. There was no need. “I believe you.”
The starch seemed to go out of his spine at her reassurance. “They gathered the co-conspirators and locked them in the dungeon to await judgment.”
She grimaced at the thought of those cells, her hands throbbing as they remembered the pain, and she rubbed her fingers against her palms to get rid of the phantom sensation of having her skin burned off.
As they reached the main floor and exited the stairwell, she was surprised to find the hallway full of a mixture of lesser daemons, trainees, and elites. To make things even more uncomfortable, they bowed their heads to her as she passed. A few murmured among themselves, but all she could hear was her name whispered…Valkyrie.
Seeing her confusion, Atinius nodded to the daemons. “They’re showing you their support, a way they show honor to our warriors.”
Her throat tightened, and she fought against shying away from their praise. If only they knew how many people they lost, people she could’ve saved. Atinius squeezed her shoulder, understanding darkening his eyes. “You are not to blame for the actions of others.”
Despite his words, she could see the same struggle in his eyes. “If you try to forgive yourself, then I will, too.”
He blinked and looked away, clearing his throat before he gave her a stiff nod. They came to a stop in front of the office doors, and both fell silent. The elite guard opened the doors, then stood to the side, not entering.
There was nowhere for them to run.
No escape from the demigods.
Atinius entered at her side, her guys following like shadows, and the same perky receptionist sat behind the desk. Thankfully, this time there was no flirting. She spoke directly to Octavia. “They’re waiting for you.”
The room was no longer lined with doors…only one remained.
The door seemed to glow, power slithering out from around the frame.
When the guys fell into step with her, the blonde held up her hand. “I’m sorry, but only one of you may accompany her.”
Warrick nodded and took a step to her side, but Octavia shook her head. She held out her bag to him, bracing herself for a fight. “Will you keep this safe for me?”
He automatically accepted the bag with a scowl, practically bristling at the rejection. Even as he opened his mouth to protest, she pulled out Keegan’s glasses and held them out to him. “Will you accompany me?”
Keegan hesitated, and Warrick nodded reluctantly, stepping back to join the others, his grip on the bag turning his knuckles white. He gave Keegan a curt nod. “Go. You’re the better choice. I’m too close to the matter. You’re better able to gauge their intent and work any angles in our favor.”
The two guys stared at each other over her head, as if they were having a private conversation, then Keegan nodded and accepted his glasses like he was accepting the responsibility for keeping her safe. “I’d be honored.”
Then there was no more delaying.
Atinius opened the door, then bent down to whisper to her as she passed. “Tread carefully. You’re the new hope for the daemons. Know that there are many who want you to succeed.”
Before she could do anything but gape at him, Keegan placed a hand on her lower back and ushered her throu
gh the portal…
…into what looked like an old-style amphitheaters.
The pantheon consisted of fifteen demigods sitting on a dais to lord it down on her like…well, like gods. A few appeared curious, a couple were bored, but they all wore expressions of cold superiority.
She glanced around the room…only it wasn’t a room. It was pure magic, a hologram to make it look like they’d stepped back in time. As she gazed at the demigods, she realized they weren’t actually present either.
While most of them were dressed as normal humans, a few wore the old Grecian robes, their hair held up by golden laurels. They ate and drank, quietly talking among themselves like she and Keegan didn’t exist.
Keegan stood at her side, falling into a relaxed military stance. A brush of air caressed her ear, then she heard his words. “Be careful. They’re dangerous and ruthless if they feel threatened. Even a millennium later, the whims of the gods can be capricious.”
The demigod who visited her in the dungeon walked into the room and sat in the center of the dais. Conversation quieted, the other demigods coming to attention.
Then the full scrutiny of the Pantheon fell on her.
Fucking joy.
“Where is the Pythia Stone you stole?” The demand came from the demigod seated at the far right edge of the table. Menace pooled around him, and she had no doubt that if she still had the stone, he would dig it out of her cold, dead body.
Octavia shook her head at the accusation. “The stone felt threatened and chose to leave. It showed Eldon the future and asked him to accept the burden, despite knowing he would die doing Pythia’s bidding. She knew war was coming. She chose me to be the one who might be able to stop it.”
The demigods erupted into chaos, all shouting accusations, denials, and questions at her. They quieted when Cassandra lifted her hand. The woman who shared her secrets in the dungeons was gone—in her place was the ruthless leader of the pantheon.
“How often have you used the stone?” A deadly, artic chill emanated from the woman, like a snake poised to strike. “The stone is addicting and dangerous if held too long. It needs to be returned to its rightful place. It needs to be safely secured.”
Well, shit…there were so many things wrong with that statement, her mind boggled. The first thing that jumped out was that if she still had the stone, they would rip it out of her, unconcerned that they would kill her in the process.
She thought Cassandra understood, but she could see the addiction and avarice gleaming in everyone’s eyes. They would go to any extreme to get it back.
There was only one problem—she no longer had the stone.
She could no longer sense Pythia’s presence in her mind.
Ignoring the way Keegan stiffened, she stalled for time. “I’ve only spoken to Pythia once, when she explained my role in the war…that if I didn’t do something, the world would fall.”
The dais fell silent, the alien eyes of the pantheon glaring down at her, and she forged ahead. “I’ve never actively asked for advice, but she has reached out to guide me more than once. To wait. To take a left. It worked almost like listening to intuition. We’ve never actually spoken again.”
Was it lying to omit that her overactive imagination thought she saw Pythia when she was dying?
“Your Excellency, Lady Philomena.” Keegan stepped forward and bowed low, and she winced, realizing she should’ve done the same. “There is another account. Pythia had taken over her body when she was sleeping, trying to protect her.”
If anything, the room went deadly silent, no one even breathing.
“She bonded to the stone.” Cassandra, Lady Philomena, spoke softly, her expression stunned.
“I still say we take the stone,” the man on the end argued, his expression adamant, and when more than a few of the others nodded in agreement, her insides went cold.
What would they do when they discovered she’d lost it?
“Unfortunately, when Darren tried to kill her, the stone cracked and released its power.” Keegan edged slightly in front of her, his body practically vibrating, seconds away from leaping into action. “The stone was destroyed.”
The uproar filled the chamber, the demigods yelling and demanding justice, accusing her of lying to keep the stone for herself. She could practically feel the combined powers of the pantheon press down on her, the air in the room thickening until she could scarcely breathe.
Keegan grunted under the impact, and she knew if she didn’t do something, they would kill them both.
Reaching behind her, she pulled out the ancient blade she took off Darren and held it out in front of her. It reacted to the power in the room, seeming to gulp it down like a man dying of thirst. Like coal catching fire, the metal grew brighter and brighter, the heat building with each passing second.
She gritted her teeth and clamped down on the swirling energy in the metal. It was almost a good kind of hurt. The glow reluctantly dimmed, the metal cooling in her hand. By the time she had it under control, she was sweaty and shaken, and the room was once again so silent the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, like her body sensed a large predator in the room.
When she lifted her chin and faced the pantheon, the warm metal of the blade tingled in her hand, eager for another taste.
“She wields the God-Killer.” A woman wearing Grecian garb seemed almost frightened.
This time it was the demigods who looked uncomfortable, unable to meet her stare.
Octavia was baffled.
“The weapon was activated when Darren stabbed her.” Keegan didn’t bother to bow this time, but came to stand at her side.
“How is she even alive?” An older demigod appeared more curious than afraid. Not that he was friendly, because pure avarice gleamed in his eyes as he gazed at them.
“Times are changing,” Keegan addressed Cassandra directly. “She’s of a newer, stronger bloodline the humans have created. I’ve seen her use her powers, I’ve felt them, and I suspect she’s a descendant of one of the titans. She has her own territory and her own destiny. Pythia did warn that the future of the daemons rests in her hands. If you kill her now, we will fall. To survive the coming war, we need her alive. We need her willing to fight for the daemons and not against us.”
Cassandra gazed at her, and Octavia could see grief in her eyes at the loss of her old friend. When the demigods were muttering among themselves and yelling out protests, Lady Philomena raised her hands, and the rest instantly fell silent.
“The Pythia has spoken. We will honor her last wishes and spare this woman.” She narrowed her eyes on Octavia, then her gaze swept to Keegan, who stood so protectively at her side, before returning her focus on Octavia once more. “Your team has done us a great service, so we will grant you a boon.”
Keegan went rigid at her side. Octavia stood nonplussed, sensing a trap, and her stomach churned with dread. It was struggle to resist her urge to flee. Blowing out a careful breath, she bowed her head. “You do me a great honor.”
“To ensure your safety, we will assign a team to you.” Cassandra’s smile was anything but friendly. “To keep you safe.”
That didn’t sound so bad, the tension in her spine relaxing slightly.
It was only when she noticed that Keegan was as still as stone that her heart sank. Assigned meant being bound. No matter where she went, the pantheon would have a spy in her camp who could kill her any time they wished.
Keegan stepped forward, then knelt, his head nearly touching the ground. “I request that I and my team be assigned to her.”
Joy shot through her.
For all of a second.
Then reality set in.
They were going to give up the freedom they worked so hard to achieve. They would once again be bound in service to the pantheon. She couldn’t let them do that. It would destroy them.
When she would’ve opened her mouth to protest, he reached back and squeezed her ankle almost painfully to shush her.
&n
bsp; Cassandra didn’t miss the exchange, then gave a slow, Cheshire smile. “Very well. Your boon has been granted. You and your team will be assigned to Octavia as her guardians.”
Octavia stood in stunned silence. Before she could gather enough wits to protest, the demigods winked out of existence. The mirage around them rippled and faded, leaving her and Keegan alone in a room devoid of any furniture or decorations.
Keegan slowly rose to his feet, and it was all she could do not smack him. “What the hell did you just do?”
Instead of answering, he stepped into her space, grabbed her around the waist, and slammed his lips over hers so hard that she bent backwards slightly over his arm as he kissed the daylights out of her. His mouth demanded everything—taking—not asking for permission, his hum of pleasure vibrating against her breasts.
She froze for a second. Then the shock wore off as pure lust seeped into her every pore and flooded her system. She chased the delicious taste of him, giving as good as she got.
He lifted his head, his chest heaving, his hair rumpled in a way that made her think of sex.
He smiled down, so pleased with himself that her insides warmed at the pure happiness he exuded. “I’m claiming you for our own. Now you are ours, and no one can ever take you from us ever again.”
Epilogue
Stunned by his declaration, Octavia didn’t protest when Keegan grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. Everyone in the reception area straightened at their entrance, and only then did she realize she just had her trial.
They would never have allowed her to set foot out of the room if they found her guilty of any crimes against them. She would have either been dead or locked away permanently.
Without stopping, Keegan continued to pull her through the room, and the rest of the guys fell into step behind them. No one bothered to go back to their rooms to collect their belongings, none of them willing to linger a second longer in case the demigods changed their minds.
As she strode into the fresh morning air, the shackles holding her back her whole life vanished. It didn’t take more than a minute for them to pile into the truck and drive away like the hounds of hell were chasing them. She found herself in the back seat, squished between Nikos and Atticus.
Daemon Grudge Page 29
