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Marked

Page 23

by Elisabeth Naughton


  A ghostly smile curled Persephone’s lips. “Morbid, isn’t it? But that’s my husband for you. Although that wasn’t the original text. Originally it said, ‘…united in the coming year.’ King Leonidas came here to ask me to barter for the addition of those twenty-seven years.”

  At what Isadora knew was her perplexed expression, Persephone huffed and added, “In the past, Atalanta’s daemons were always able to locate the human half of that equation, thereby keeping the prophecy from coming true.”

  Isadora’s stomach rolled. “He bartered to keep her alive just so she could die later?”

  “All for the greater good.” Persephone’s brow wrinkled. “Don’t tell me you’re a bleeding heart for humans. They’re so…lower class.”

  “She’s not just a human. She’s…my sister.”

  “That’s just biology.”

  At that moment, Isadora knew this goddess wasn’t going to help her. She forgot about strategy and spoke from her heart. “No, I don’t believe in sacrificing one for the good of many. Unlike you and the other gods up here in never-never land, I don’t view them as chess pieces to be placed at my whim. My father is a coward and a liar, and my coming here was very obviously a mistake.” She turned on her heel.

  “Very good, Princess.” The laughter in Persephone’s words stopped Isadora’s feet. “You may just make an adequate queen, after all.”

  Isadora glared over her shoulder at the goddess, who was now standing upright but still hovering over the water. “I’m so glad you approve.” Not.

  She was just about to leave again when Persephone suddenly appeared in her path, looking—now—very much the queen she was. “I said, ‘may.’ Not ‘will.’ A lot depends on what you do next.” She tipped her head. “I believe I will grant you audience with Hades. I’ll even take you there.”

  Persephone’s eyes sparkled at the excuse to see her husband again. Around them, the pond and forest burst to life, the colors and fragrances overwhelming the senses. And Isadora caught her breath at what was being offered to her for reasons she didn’t quite understand. “But of course, nothing is free, and we haven’t discussed the issue of payment yet.”

  “I don’t have anything—”

  “I want your gift of foresight.”

  “But I—”

  “Don’t have it? Not right now you don’t, but it will return. And when it does, I want it. For one month.”

  Isadora’s eyebrows drew together. “But you’re a goddess. Certainly you don’t need something as simple as my power.”

  Persephone shrugged in a nonchalant way, but Isadora could tell this meant a great deal to her. “Curse of the gods. Supreme cosmic power but no way to look into the future. None of the gods can. Free will and all that crap. But to be able to see ahead, whatever I choose?” Her eyes shone with a devious light. “That would elevate me to the plane of Zeus.”

  A chill slid down Isadora’s spine. “But my powers don’t work that way. I can’t choose which events I see. And though I have glimpses of the future, I don’t know when the events will happen.”

  Persephone’s eyes flared to a glowing jade, and malicious intent slid across her perfect features. “Don’t bother yourself with that, Princess. Your powers in my hands will be quite different. I guarantee it.”

  Dread welled in Isadora’s stomach. Would it be wise to grant the Queen of the Underworld such power? Just what did the goddess plan to do with it anyway?

  “Choose now. Your sister’s life for one month. I grow bored with this conversation.”

  One month. Nothing bad could happen in one month, could it? Isadora hoped not, but in the end what the gods did was of little concern to her. Her world was far removed. And her sister’s life and the lives of many Argoleans hung in the balance.

  She lifted her chin and pushed the fear at what she was about to do out of her head. “Take me to Hades.”

  “No sweeter words were ever spoken.” A wicked smile slid across Persephone’s face as she held out her hand. “As you wish, my dying little queen-to-be.”

  “Do you still have the weapon I gave you?”

  Casey’s adrenaline spiked. She watched a horde of daemons rush out of the trees on the far side of the clearing and charge the circle of mourners.

  “Acacia!” Theron pulled his dagger with the thick blade from his back and glanced up at the canopy.

  Fear clogged Casey’s throat as screams and fighting erupted in the clearing, but somehow she had the presence of mind to nod. She made sure the blade was still strapped to her calf where she’d put it this morning.

  “Can you climb?”

  “Climb? What—?”

  He looked up again. “I’ll boost you up. Get as high in the trees as you can. Anything comes up after you, scream. Loud.”

  “Is that supposed to be funny?” He was developing a sense of humor now?

  He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and forced her to grab the first branch in the old-growth Douglas fir. “As high as you can, Acacia. Only use the weapon if you have to, and scream as loud as you can. I’ll be right here.”

  He was leaving her?

  “Wait.” Frantic, she grasped his arm even as he pushed her higher into the tree, and she had no choice but to grab on or fall. “Theron—”

  He clasped her hand and locked his eyes with hers until it felt as if he was seeing the darkest place of her soul. Her breath caught at the intensity of his gaze. “I won’t let anything happen to you, meli. Marissa was wrong. I will never let anything happen to you. Tell me you believe me.”

  She nodded slowly and whispered, “I believe you.”

  His eyes searched hers one last second before he nodded upward. “Go. Now.”

  Casey hesitated only a moment to watch Theron charge into the battle happening in the clearing. He was all hulking muscle and deadly intent, joining Nick, who, along with a few other men from the colony, was beating back the dozen or so daemons who’d converged on what she could tell was a funeral.

  God, Dana.

  Weapons clashed with fangs and claws. Shouts and cries mixed with snarled grunts as fists met bone. When Theron was tossed to his back and a daemon charged for him, Casey slammed her eyes shut and shifted to look away.

  Heart in her throat, she reached up and grabbed the next branch. Her hands shook as she climbed, the knife Theron had given her a solid weight pressed against her leg.

  Please God, don’t let it slip and fall out.

  She wasn’t fond of heights and she felt like a fool hiding out in this tree when people were possibly dying below, but if those monsters were here for her, she wasn’t stupid enough to hang out in the open.

  Her hands burned as bark scraped her palms raw. She groaned at the ache in her arms as she climbed higher and told herself if she came through this alive—and Dr. Jill found a cure for whatever was wrong with her—she was definitely starting that workout program she’d been putting off for far too long. The sounds of the battle drifted up to her, but she blocked them out, tried not to listen for Theron’s voice. One thing, however, got through. A feral growling coming from the base of the tree.

  She froze. Hoped she blended into the limbs. And prayed she was imagining things.

  The growling grew louder. And then the entire tree began to shake.

  Casey shrieked. Her fingers closed around a branch just as she lost her footing.

  “There’s nowhere for you to go, half-breed,” the daemon below snarled. “Come down.”

  Casey flailed out with her feet and finally found a thin branch that bent slightly under her weight. She pushed herself higher as her adrenaline spiked. A few more feet to that thicker branch above and she could let go with one hand and grab the knife.

  “Come down!” the beast thundered.

  “Fuck you!”

  With a ferocious roar the daemon grabbed the trunk of the tree and shook violently. Casey screeched as the branch she’d been standing on snapped. Bark abraded her palms. Her fingernails dug into wood, se
nding slivers deep into her skin as she hung on with all her strength. Her body was thrown right and left as the tree bowed under the great force jerking it back and forth.

  And then the unthinkable happened. The knife slipped out of its holster. Frantic, she tried to catch it with her shoe, but it was too late. Her only weapon fell free just as her hands slipped a fraction of an inch on the branch above.

  The daemon saw her falter. And the SOB actually laughed.

  Oh, shit.

  Sweat broke out on her forehead. She was going to fall. She was sixty feet up, with no weapon and no one to save her. If, that is, she survived the drop.

  Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit.

  “Theron!”

  The branch she was holding snapped like a twig. And then all she felt was air.

  Hades wasn’t alone. He’d know that damn flower scent anywhere.

  His head jerked up, and he leapt off his throne so fast he nearly tripped down the five marble stone steps. He made it as far as the archway before the double wood doors were thrown open and Persephone flung herself into his arms.

  “My sweet,” he crooned, gathering her close and kissing her hard. Her hands flew to his face, her mouth was possessive against his, warming the coldest space inside him. “Missed you…so.”

  She groaned against him, frantic as her hands ran under his shirt and across his skin. “My, god.”

  He chuckled and turned her around, pushing her back toward his throne and the solid stone table just to the left he knew she liked so very much. “I am. All yours. Now tell me how you got away from the wicked bitch of the west.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled back and chuckled to herself while he kissed her throat. “Don’t talk about my mother like that. You know I don’t like it when you take that tone.”

  Since she sounded anything but upset, he licked the column of her neck, slid his hands around to her ass and lifted her so he could get her to the table as fast as possible.

  “Hades, wait. We have business first.”

  “Business?” And that’s when he noticed the slight creature standing in the corner of the room, just inside the door. He dropped his queen to her feet and whirled back around. “She’s human.”

  “Argolean,” Persephone said, placing one of her delicate hands on his chest. “Future Queen of Argolea, actually.”

  Oh, now this was interesting.

  He looked down at the slight gynaíka with her big brown eyes and nearly white hair. He could tell she was sick, but she held an air of authority that intrigued him. One he doubted she was even aware of. “Come in,” he barked.

  She hesitated, then cautiously stepped forward.

  In the light she wasn’t simply beautiful, she was magnificent, and he knew interest flared in his eyes before he could stop it. Persephone saw it too. She punched him hard in the stomach and glared at him. “Not her. And not when I’m standing here, you jackass, or I’ll make you both sorry.”

  Hades coughed and rubbed a hand over his abdomen, then laughed when he saw the gynaíka’s frightened eyes dart between him and his queen. “She’s too small. I’m pretty sure I’d split her in two. Besides, I gave up virgins last year.” He looked back at his wife. “Really, Persephone, if you were going to bring me a treat—”

  Persephone socked him again, and he doubled over, laughing twice as hard. She was the only creature in the world allowed to raise a hand to him, and he loved every moment of it.

  Persephone’s eyes flashed. “Pull your head out of your pants for ten seconds. She’s here about the pact.”

  That got his attention. “My pact?”

  “Is there any other?”

  A wicked smile slid across his mouth. “Oh, now this is interesting. What is it you want, little queen?”

  The gynaíka took two steps closer, then stopped. Fear flashed in her eyes, but she lifted her chin, looking every bit the regal queen she could become. “I—I ask that your pact be broken. Or at the very least, postponed.”

  He lifted one eyebrow as he drew his queen to his side, amused at the Argolean’s audacity. “And why should I do that?”

  “Because…” The gynaíka swallowed. “Because I’m one half of the prophecy.”

  Well, duh. He’d already figured that out, but he was intrigued enough to hear the rest of what she had to say. “And the other half?”

  “My sister.”

  “And let me guess,” he said, slowly running his hand up and down Persephone’s spine. “You’ve come to ask me to spare the human’s life.”

  “She’s not just a human. She’s a Misos.”

  “Even better.” Hades scoffed. “Useless. I don’t know why your kind can’t keep their pants zipped.” Persephone punched him in the arm. His head swiveled in her direction. “Do that once more, wife, and I’ll make you pay.”

  Desire lit her eyes. “Promise?”

  He growled low in his throat and leaned in to take her mouth again.

  The Argolean’s coughing brought his head up in irritation. He pinned the exasperating creature with a look. “Why in all that is evil in my realm are you still here?”

  “Hades,” Persephone warned.

  He sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting inside his queen until he appeased her and dealt with this situation first. “Very well. You do realize the ramifications of this, correct?”

  The gynaíka nodded.

  “And you realize that by interfering, you set events into motion that cannot be undone?”

  The gynaíka hesitated, looked between them and nodded again.

  Hades shrugged. “Fine. Your human’s life is spared.” The gynaíka breathed out a sigh of relief. “But not without a price.”

  “But Persephone said—”

  He nuzzled his queen’s jaw. “What ever bargain you struck with my conniving wife is between the two of you. I still require payment. One soul. Yours or hers. I don’t care which.”

  “Now?”

  “Now could be interesting,” he said, smiling down at his wife, “but the time isn’t of my choosing.”

  The gynaíka looked as if she would be ill. Which pleased him. It very much pleased him.

  “Well?” he asked. “What do you say?”

  She glanced at her hands, seemed to struggle with some internal debate, then closed her eyes. “Mine,” she whispered.

  His laughter bubbled up from the depths of his soul as his eyes ran up and down her slight and very feminine body. Oh, what he would enjoy doing to her, with Persephone’s approval or not.

  “Make yourself comfortable, little queen.” His hand slid down to Persephone’s ass. “The show’s about to begin.”

  The gynaíka’s eyes snapped open, and shock registered in her fine features, igniting a whole new set of bargains in his head. Ones that involved not only him, but his wife as well. “I’m not going home?”

  “Not yet.” Hades’s smile widened. Catching on, Persephone’s did too. “Not yet. Not until we’re both done with you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  She smelled lavender. And leather. And something she thought had to be thyme.

  Which was strange, because thyme wasn’t a scent she could normally stomach. Today it smelled like heaven.

  Casey drew a deep breath and tried to roll over. A stabbing pain in her side kept her from getting too far, and she pried her eyes open, wondering just what the heck was going on.

  The first thing she noticed was the fire roaring in the massive marble fireplace across the room. A quick glance down and she realized she was in a bed with crisp white sheets and a fluffy comforter. She was clean, her toes were toasty, her pillow was soft, but this wasn’t a room she’d ever been in before.

  She tried to sit up as her brain slowly came back on line. The last thing she remembered was being in that tree, the daemon shaking it vigorously, her fingers slipping and…

  She turned her head and saw Theron asleep in an armchair next to her bed.

  His hair was damp, as if he’d recentl
y showered, and he was dressed in faded jeans and a tight black T-shirt. His perfect feet were bare, propped up on the side of the mattress, his head tipped to the side, his eyes closed as he caught a few z’s. He looked like an angel fast asleep, and try as she might to squelch it, Casey’s heart did a little flip at the sight of him.

  On closer examination she saw the bruises and nicks on his arms and face and remembered back to the way he’d fought in the clearing. Then realized this was no angel. He was a warrior. And somehow, he’d rescued her again.

  Damn hero complex.

  She wiggled his toe. “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

  He jerked awake and dropped his foot to the floor. Eyes sleepy and sexy and a little dazed, he stared at her. Then moved so fast, she couldn’t track him. One minute he was on that chair, blinking as though he didn’t know who she was, and the next he was with her in the big bed, pulling her into his arms and holding her close.

  Okay, not a bad way to wake up, all things considered. Casey’s heart kicked up as he ran his hands up and down her spine and spoke soft words in her ear in a language she didn’t understand.

  Oh, man. She’d always been a sucker for the foreign-language thing.

  “Either I was asleep a lot longer than I thought or you’re just happy to see me,” she teased.

  He didn’t laugh at her joke, but his big body relaxed against her. “You’ve been asleep for nearly eight hours, meli. I was worried.”

  Eight hours didn’t sound so bad. Considering she’d knocked herself out during the middle of a war, though…

  “Where are we?” she asked against him.

  “My home.”

  His? Really?

  “You’re completely safe here. The daemons can’t get into Argolea.”

  They couldn’t? She wanted to ask why, but was distracted by the realization that…she was in Argolea.

  Wow. That was just…wild.

  “How did I get here? I thought Nick said I had to willingly cross the portal. I don’t remember doing that.”

 

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