Wicked

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “Zagreus bound her powers,” Ana announced to the beasts. “She should be easy to subdue. I’m sure she’ll provide hours of entertainment for you boys before you kill her. As much as I’d love to stay and watch, I don’t have time. The prince is waiting.”

  She pinned Talisa with those hauntingly translucent blue eyes, her expression smug and victorious, the hair peeking out from beneath her hood no longer blonde but brown. “Thank those meddling Argonauts for your fate, paidí. I warned that guardian what would happen if I was ever set free. He should have listened.”

  Talisa had no idea what Ana was rambling about or which guardian she was referencing, but one thing was clear.

  The bitch had set her up. And now she was leaving Talisa to die.

  Fury gathered inside Talisa. A fury that had nothing to do with Zagreus and colored everything red.

  As Ana turned away, Talisa lurched off the ground and hurled herself at the female.

  Chapter Eight

  It was well after midnight by the time Zagreus made his way into the castle.

  He washed the grime from his hands in the empty kitchen, ignoring the rumble in his stomach. Most of the servants had retired for bed already. He knew the kitchen maids had left him food, which his body clearly needed, but he was more concerned with making sure Talisa hadn’t caused any trouble while he’d been gone. Once he was certain she was sound asleep where she was supposed to be, he’d come back and refuel.

  He tossed the towel on the counter, turned out of the massive kitchen and into the grand hall dimly lit by a smoldering fire, and headed for the stairs.

  He’d left his men in the courtyard with instructions to keep the sentries on high alert tonight. The satyrs they’d tracked all day had roamed their borders but hadn’t actually breached their lands. They were getting bolder, though, clearly looking for a weak spot in Ehrendia’s defenses. Almost as if…

  Almost as if someone inside Ehrendia was feeding them information.

  That thought revolved in Zagreus’s mind as he made his way up to the highest floor in the castle. Rhen had thought the same. They’d discussed it just before Zagreus had come into the grand hall. Rhen had noted that the satyrs had followed the border too closely all day for their path to be random. And Zagreus agreed.

  Those satyrs had known where the borders edged empty land. They’d been searching for a break in Zagreus’s magick. Or they’d known they were being followed and had been leading his sentries away from the castle.

  The hair on Zagreus’s nape tingled with that last thought, and his feet came to a stop in the middle of the corridor.

  Footsteps pounded close. His gaze shot to the open doorway ahead that led to the narrow, curved staircase up to the tower.

  Nysa appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide, her face pale, telling him exactly what he suddenly feared.

  “Where is she?” His muscles instantly tightened.

  “I don’t know. But Ana’s gone, too. As soon as I realized Ana was missing, I went to check on the princess.”

  Motherfucker. He’d known not to trust that nymph. He turned back for the main staircase.

  Nysa trailed behind him as he hustled back down the steps. “The sentries have been watching her all day. If she tried to leave, they would have stopped her. Even if Ana was with her, they wouldn’t have let—”

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, suddenly realizing his mistake.

  “What?” Nysa asked at his side where he’d stopped on the stairs.

  “Ana knows enough magick to get Talisa past the guards without drawing attention.” Because he’d taught her spells. Not a camouflaging spell, per se, but the nymph was smart. She could have easily looked that one up for herself. She had access to his chambers, knew which books lining his shelves delved into magick. She also knew sleeping spells to knock the guards out if need be. Belatedly, he realized none had been guarding the tower staircase where he’d left them.

  “Oh shit,” Nysa muttered.

  Zagreus turned to Nysa, who’s eyes were now wide with fear. “When was the last time anyone saw Talisa or the nymph?”

  Nysa’s gaze skipped around the dimly lit stairwell. “Ana was in the grand hall thirty minutes or so ago. I saw her by the fire before the others retired for bed. Talisa went up to the tower sometime after eleven.”

  Thirty minutes. They couldn’t have gotten far in thirty minutes.

  “Find Rhen,” he instructed. “Have him gather a search party. I want teams scouring both inside and outside the castle.”

  “Yes, My Prince.”

  As she hustled down the steps, Zagreus drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and centered himself.

  He could find Talisa. This was why he’d made her drink his blood. So their life forces would be connected. He just had to focus. Their souls might already be bound, but physically they were joined now. He simply had to relax, to search for that part of himself that was with her. To let it draw him to—

  His eyes shot open when he recognized her location. And his adrenaline surged as he realized just how close he was to losing her.

  Again.

  He flashed to the stone arch. The second he opened his eyes, he spotted Talisa and Ana rolling across the hard ground. Both of their bodies were covered in dirt, their muscles tense, hands clawing and feet kicking.

  He didn’t know who had started this fight or what was really going on, but he’d left instruction Talisa was not to be harmed, and the nymph had clearly defied him.

  “Ana, stop!”

  The females both jerked at the sound of his voice. Ana shoved off Talisa and stumbled to her feet. Breathing heavily, she whipped Zagreus’s way, but the instant his eyes met hers, he knew something was off. Something about her was off.

  Something he was just now seeing because she was beyond the border of Ehrendia.

  “Motherfucker,” he muttered, staring at her light blue eyes and familiar—very familiar—face. “You.”

  Ana’s hair stuck out all over her head but it was no longer blonde. It was dark. Dust and dirt covered her face and hands and the cloak hanging off her shoulders as her icy gaze narrowed on Zagreus, but he knew that face. Would always know that face. He just couldn’t believe he’d been so blind that he hadn’t seen through her glamour and recognized it sooner.

  Talisa slowly pushed to her feet. Her chest rose and fell with her quick breaths. Rocks and twigs were stuck to her wild hair and torn skirt. She brushed her dirty palms against the fabric but didn’t take her eyes off Ana. And Zagreus didn’t reach for her because he didn’t trust Ana, either. Especially when he didn’t yet know what kind of weapons the female was hiding.

  “Ana,” he said as calmly as he could even though all he really wanted to do was wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. “Let’s go back inside the kingdom where it’s safe and—”

  “Fuck you, Zagreus.” She pulled something metal and shiny from her cloak and hurled it toward Talisa.

  Zagreus lurched in front of Talisa, knocking her out of the way. The blade sank deep into his side, cutting through flesh and into bone, sending blinding pain all through his torso.

  Talisa grunted as she hit the hard earth. Zagreus cringed against the searing pain and tried to roll off her. Footsteps pounded at his back, growing steadily lighter until they faded in the dark forest.

  Talisa scrambled out from under him and shifted to her knees. “Oh my gods, that’s my dagger. She had my dagger.”

  Grinding his teeth, Zagreus moved so he was sitting in the dirt and reached for the handle sticking out of his side.

  “No, don’t—”

  “Fucking”—he yanked the blade free, wincing at the pain radiating through his side with the motion—“first bitch.” Blood gushed from the wound, staining his shirt, but within seconds the flow slowed as the wound knit back together, a benefit of being immortal. “Hephaestus never should have created her for Zeus. I don’t know how the hell she found me, but I should have seen through her glamour.”

/>   “Who?”

  He dropped the blade on the ground and fought from groaning as he pushed to his feet. Wrapping a hand around Talisa’s arm, he pulled her up next to him. “Pandora.”

  Talisa’s eyes flew wide. “That was Pandora? The first woman ever created?”

  “Unfortunately. A scheming, conniving, evil bitch who is more dangerous than all the gods put together.”

  “What was she doing here?”

  “Who knows. Probably trying to fuck me over. She was one of my prisoners years ago before my lair was demolished.” He gripped her arms at the elbows, his gaze scanning her body for injuries. “Did she hurt you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Good.” He closed one hand over hers and turned to pull her after him toward the stone arch. “We need to get back inside the kingdom’s borders.”

  “Zagreus, wait.” Talisa tugged back on his arm. When he looked over his shoulder, she blinked up at him in the moonlight with familiar yet very focused eyes. Eyes that put him on instant alert and made him turn her way. “She wasn’t alone. She brought—”

  Growls echoed in the dark trees behind Talisa, cutting off her words. So many growls, her familiar violet eyes grew wide once more.

  Zagreus stilled and looked over her head toward the fifty or so satyrs emerging from the forest around them, muscles hulking, weapons ready, murder glinting in their soulless eyes.

  Holy fuck.

  Options, possibilities, scenarios raced through his mind.

  They were too close to the satyrs to try to make a break for it under the archway. If Talisa already knew the beasts were here, it meant those satyrs had been waiting for Ana and had seen them passthrough that gate. Satyrs were simple creatures who fixated on one thing at a time. Unless they got what they wanted, they’d attack until they broke through the barrier and found a way in. And it was also possible Ana had already given them the spell to access Ehrendia when the stone arch was unguarded.

  That left grabbing Talisa and teleporting their way out of this mess, except… Outside the camouflaged borders he’d erected with his magick, that would create an energy surge his father or any of the other gods could detect. If, that is, the gods were searching for him.

  Which… yeah. Double fuck. He knew they were. His father was always searching for him. And thanks to his recent visit to Olympus, now Zeus and Zeus’s motherfucking miserable Sirens were hunting him, too.

  Shit. He was fucked. They were fucked. She was going to die. Again. Only this time she wouldn’t die simply because of his neglect. She’d die because of his complete and utter stupidity. Only hours after he’d truly found her.

  Slowly, Talisa glanced over her shoulder and whispered, “Skata.”

  As the growls grew louder, mixing with the clash of metal as weapons were drawn, that one word echoed in Zagreus’s mind—that Argolean word—bringing a clarity and burst of light in the middle of the darkness that told him exactly what he needed to do.

  The only thing he could do.

  The very thing he’d never been strong enough to do before.

  “Take this. We don’t have much time.” Zagreus quickly pulled a chain over his head and draped it around Talisa’s neck, tucking the amulet she only saw for a brief second inside the front of her dress, drawing her attention away from the satyrs and back to him.

  “Wh-what’s that?”

  “Something that will help you.” Still holding her with one hand around her upper arm, he held the other in front of her face and muttered ancient words.

  She felt the hold on her gifts give and break free, infusing her with strength. The strength she’d been born with.

  Gasping at the rush of power surging inside her veins, she sagged back, but Zagreus’s hand shifted to her other arm, and he pulled her close.

  “I’ll distract them long enough for you to get away,” he said in a low voice near her ear. “Once you’ve enough clearance, open a portal and get the hell out of here.”

  She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but before she could form the words, he pressed his lips to hers.

  Shock hit first. Followed by a rush of heat as his tongue slid into her mouth and he kissed her deeply. Completely. The way he’d kissed her in that club. The way she’d wanted him to kiss her in her dream. The way no other male had ever kissed her. With every bit of passion she’d never known had been missing from her life.

  He jerked back from her lips and grasped the bloody dagger that had just been in his side from the ground. Shoving the hilt into her hand, he pushed her away. “Go. Now!”

  He moved between her and the pack of satyrs closing in fast. “There you are, little fauns. I wondered where you’d run off to.”

  Talisa stumbled back, her heart racing, her eyes locked on Zagreus as he stalked toward the satyrs.

  “Mock all you want, Zagreus,” one of the satyrs sneered as he advanced, one Talisa was almost sure she’d seen in that club a few days ago. “It won’t do you any good this time. You’re outnumbered.”

  Talisa inched backward, her gaze skipping from Zagreus to the satyrs who seemed to be only focused on him.

  “I might be,” Zagreus answered, “but you’re just plain ugly.” He sniffed the air. “And you stink. Didn’t that bitch Pandora teach you boys anything about personal hygiene?”

  The satyr at the front—the familiar one—growled.

  “That’s right, beast,” Zagreus said in a low voice. “Come at me. I dare you.”

  The satyr lifted the axe in his meaty hand and charged.

  Talisa’s adrenaline surged. This was her chance to escape. She had her powers back. She could open a portal. She just had to get far enough away so none of those beasts tried to go through with her.

  She turned and pushed her legs into a run, racing the opposite direction, up another hill and away from the satyrs. But her feet faltered when the growls grew louder.

  Not one growl. Not a couple of growls. But all of them. Together. As if the entire pack was closing ranks at once.

  She glanced back over her shoulder and gasped.

  The satyrs swarmed, charging Zagreus from every side. Only, he wasn’t taking command of the beasts as she expected. He wasn’t attacking them as he’d attacked those daemons. Instead, he stilled as they formed a circle around him. And when all eyes were fixed his way, he dropped to his knees in the dirt.

  Talisa jerked to a stop and held her breath.

  For a heartbeat, no one moved. No sound echoed through the dark forest. The satyrs stood frozen in shock, just like her. Then all at once, they surged forward.

  Bodies slammed into Zagreus from every side, knocking him to the ground, blocking him from sight. Arms and fists flew through the air. Teeth snapped. Weapons whirred. And sound returned to Talisa’s ears in the trees where she stood watching in horror. Not the snap of energy she’d heard when Zagreus had hit those daemons with his powers, but snarls and growls from every beast attacking him. Followed by the horrific crack of bone hitting bone, and the squelch of blood as it splattered and oozed across the ground.

  Her heart lurched. He wasn’t fighting back. He wasn’t defending himself. He might be immortal, but he could still feel pain, she’d seen it on his face when that dagger had stabbed into his ribs.

  She didn’t know what was really going on, but she suddenly believed he’d been telling her the truth when he’d said these weren’t his satyrs. If this was his army, he’d never allow them to injure and maim him like this. Not unless—

  The truth hit her hard, making her sway.

  Not unless he was protecting someone. And not just someone. A whole bunch of someones.

  Her gaze shot to the stone arch, her mind picturing the child who’d run up to him when he’d first brought Talisa to Ehrendia. She thought of Nysa, the healer, telling her Zagreus had been defending Ehrendia the last few years. Thought of all the nymphs lounging in the grand hall or working in the castle today as she’d been wandering around. And she thought of the silens and how
Zagreus was training them to protect this kingdom from an invasion if it were to happen.

  Her gaze darted back to the mountain of satyrs, each one clawing at Zagreus. If they found a way through Ehrendia’s defenses, every nymph and sileni death would be her fault. The satyrs would take over the castle. They’d throw the nymphs in those dungeon cells and torture them. Everything the nymphs had built, all the people living in this land would be lost because Talisa had trusted Ana. Because she’d been too stubborn to see another viewpoint. Because she’d only been focused on herself.

  She glanced down at her arms, her sleeves shredded enough for her to faintly see the ancient Greek letters etched into her skin. Letters she’d always thought meant she was just as heroic as her father, as his forefathers before him. But… was she?

  She hadn’t done anything heroic to earn these markings, not like her father. Not like the Argonauts he served with. If she really was a hero, she wouldn’t put innocent lives in danger while she ran to save herself. And she wouldn’t leave someone else to suffer when she could do something to help.

  Determination swelled inside her, pushing aside the fear, giving her strength. Giving her purpose.

  She ripped off the cloak and the dress’s useless cape then yanked at her shredded skirt, tearing it just above her knees so she wouldn’t trip. Gripping the dagger tightly, she raced back down the hillside.

  The pack wasn’t looking at her. They were all too focused on Zagreus. As she approached, the closest satyr didn’t even startle at the sound of her footsteps. She reached around from the back and sliced right through his jugular.

  The beast gasped, sputtered, and stumbled forward. But there was so much noise coming from the others, no one even noticed as he fought for life. Blood spurted. Before he fell, Talisa plucked the sword from his hand, turned, and sank the blade deep into the satyr to her right.

  The second beast shrieked in pain. Heads lifted. Eyes turned her way.

  Yanking the sword free, Talisa twisted as the monster fell to the ground, then hurled her dagger at a third satyr who’d decided to charge.