by Addison Fox
Where Enyo had a sheen of refinement and, dare he say it—elegance?—her sister looked like she’d walked straight off a battlefield.
From the tips of her shit kickers to the tight leather that covered her ass, the woman screamed “Don’t fuck with me” like a blinking neon sign.
Enyo moved in even closer and Arturo fought the inclination to back up a few steps. He’d be damned if he’d give her the satisfaction. “Eris and I aren’t here to indulge your perverted little fantasies.” She let out a small, tinkling laugh that ran like razor blades down his spine, “not that I don’t enjoy a good perverted fantasy or two. But, be that as it may, I think our relationship needs to stay strictly professional.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Sadly, Arturo, I’ve thought about it and decided I needed to test our partnership before we attempted any ‘partners with benefits’ relationship.”
Enyo reached out and stroked one long finger down the front of his jeans. He watched, mesmerized, as the rich bloodred of her nail stood out in stark contrast to the dark color of denim. And fuck, if she couldn’t make him respond. His cock shot to attention like an over-eager schoolboy raising his hand.
“Of course, if you act like a good boy and do what I ask, I may change my mind.”
Willing his body under control, Arturo nodded toward the other woman. “So Eris is your sister?”
“Yes. I had this sudden realization that she and I hadn’t spent nearly enough time together lately, so I decided to remedy the situation.”
“And what does your little family reunion have to do with me?”
Enyo shot a glance over her shoulder where Eris waited in the doorway. “A lot, actually.”
Eris stepped forward and came to stand next to her sister. Under any other circumstance, Arturo would revel in the close proximity of two women, especially when one had a hand still planted firmly on his groin.
But something about the two of them set off warning bells.
“We decided that you’ve got something we want.” Eris’s voice was low and dark, evoking all the warmth of a torture chamber.
“What’s that?”
“The goddess of peace.”
Arturo flicked a wrist. “She’s a means to an end.”
Enyo pressed harder against his jeans. Even though it was just the pad of her index finger, the threat was as clear as if she’d taken a knife to his balls. “Then you won’t mind if we call dibs on her. When you offered me access to the Warriors, Eirene and her daughter, you didn’t say I couldn’t pick and choose.”
Arturo weighed the situation. He could always agree and then fix things to his advantage on the boat. He’d planned this for quite some time. All he needed to do was bluff his way through and then leave the Warriors to deal with the ladies.
“Fine. Eirene is yours.”
At the satisfied smile that spread across Enyo’s face, Arturo knew he’s made the right choice. Hell, he liked to live on the edge and it was his own damn fault he invited a nest of vipers into his midst. Might as well play out the hand and use them to his advantage.
They walked in here like the Olsen twins, but it was no secret on Mount Olympus the two women were rarely in agreement on anything.
If he played his cards right, he could use them to distract the Warriors while he took care of Eirene and Montana and then he’d still get his prize at the end.
He really did enjoy a pair of sisters every now and again.
Extending a hand toward the monitors, Arturo pasted a smile back on his face. “Ladies, let me show you what I had in mind.”
“You’re not going to be the lure, Montana.” Quinn shook his head as a wave of—frustration? Anger? Bone-numbing fear?—rocked his gut. “Arturo is dangerous and he’s been working on this for far longer than any of us know. He’s methodical and stubborn and you’re not walking into the middle of that.”
Montana shook her head as she pointed a finger at her chest. “Quinn. I am the bait and there’s nothing we can do to change that. This isn’t going to stop unless we make a bold move. You all can protect me. Hell, if someone would teach me, I could protect myself with this supposed immortal power I’m gaining.”
They were all assembled back in the kitchen, more heaping plates of food bookending the countertop, as Quinn, Montana and the other Warriors sat and planned their strategy.
Rogan and Drake took the end of the table, plowing through matched plates of lasagna while Kane and Ilsa sat next to them with a map of the Florida Keys spread out just beyond their own plates of food. Brody and Ava stood at the counter with laptops open and Callie kept herself busy baking a batch of brownies while interjecting into every single conversation.
“Montana’s right. You have to let her go on this, Quinn.”
Quinn bristled at Callie’s interference. “I don’t have to let her do anything.”
“Actually, you do,” the nymph shot back. “This is her destiny. And you have to let her live it.”
Raw fury pumped in his veins—at the situation, at Callie’s flippant remarks about fate and destiny and, damn it, at the fear he couldn’t protect Montana. “Her destiny is fucked up because of a shitty decision Themis made about Eirene. That has nothing to do with Montana.”
“It has everything to do with her.” Callie shoved the large mixing bowl across the counter and stalked over toward him. The entire kitchen went silent at her outburst, everyone still as statues. “You can’t keep her from this.”
“I have to keep her safe.”
Callie got in his face and refused to back down. “You have to support her and believe in her and do everything you can for her. But you can’t take this away for her.”
And there it was.
Just like with Kane and Ilsa, the truth reached up and slapped him in the face.
Just as he couldn’t take away their pain. Or their trials. Or the roadmap of their destinies.
He couldn’t do it for Montana.
Throwing his napkin on the table, he stalked from the room. The truth hurt, but the knowledge he had to let Montana enter the battle tore him to ribbons.
“I know you don’t care for me very much, but I’d like to say something to you.”
Quinn stared at the screen before him—whatever he’d sat down at his computer to do bogged somewhere in his brain. He couldn’t think. Fuck, he couldn’t even function on autopilot.
Montana wanted to walk straight into Arturo’s plans.
Plans the ex-Taurus had no doubt been honing on for quite some time. He might not know Arturo Veron personally, but Quinn knew himself.
Knew what he was capable of.
Knew the stubborn, methodical ways of the bull that rode on his shoulder and influenced his life.
Whirling in his chair, Quinn’s gaze landed on Eirene, where she waited at the door to the security center. He stood immediately, reaching for her frail forearm and leading her to his chair. “Please sit down.”
“I hate this,” she grumbled as she lowered herself into the seat. “I knew it was my destiny eventually, but I hate it.”
It was the first he’d heard anything from her but a serene view of the world and it was a surprise. “Illness. Sickness. The life of an immortal ensures these aren’t worries. Hell, they’re not even fleeting thoughts.”
Eirene nodded as she folded her hands in her lap. The blue of her veins was visible in stark relief against her paper-thin skin. “I thought myself so unbeatable. Even those first years in my mortal body, I thought myself invincible. And now look at me.” Eirene looked down at her body, disgust riding her features when she glanced back up at him. “I’m dying.”
“Yes.” A callous acknowledgment for a callous situation.
“And I’m leaving my baby at the most difficult trial of her life.”
“Seems like you’ve done that from the first.” The words were out before he could stop them and strangely, after he’d spoken, Quinn acknowledged he was glad he had. This woman had given Montana a lifetime
of hurt and he wasn’t all that willing to cut her any slack, despite the evidence death was waiting to claim her.
Eirene sat up straighter in the chair. “I have. And I’ve also realized what I lost due to my own stubborn will.”
“Your immortality?”
“No. I’ve never regretted that decision. A decision made out of love. It’s what came after I regret. I lost my family because I thought I knew better. I thought I could outrun the Fates.”
“The Fates didn’t dictate your choices with Montana.”
“No, they didn’t. And it is I who must live with that.”
Choice.
It always came back to that. The choices people made and the choices they didn’t.
Wasn’t that the very concept running ice-cold water through his veins? The choice Montana was insistent on making, to go after Arturo.
To put herself in the line of fire. Just as he himself had time and again through the years, fighting for what he believed in.
Just as Kane and Ilsa had.
With immediate clarity, Quinn saw what he’d chosen to ignore the day he took the Scorp to the entrance of the Underworld.
It wasn’t about holding our loved ones back from making the hard choices, it was about supporting them when they did.
Eirene’s words pulled Quinn from his musings. “She can do this.”
“Are you sure she’s ready?”
“If there’s one thing my husband gave that child, it’s a spine. She can handle whatever’s thrown at her.”
“But Arturo’s dangerous. And he’s been planning this—whatever this is—for a very long time.”
Eirene’s gaze flew to his face, then to the stack of photos he had left next to the computer. “Arturo?”
“You haven’t spoken to Montana?” At the panic riding high in her gaze, Quinn backpedaled. “What did you think I meant?”
“I came to talk to you about Montana becoming an immortal. That she’s up to the task.”
“You didn’t come to talk to me about Arturo Veron?”
“What about Arturo?”
“Your former lover who is behind the attacks on your daughter.”
There was a moment of stunned disbelief, then a dark, keening moan began low in her chest as Eirene leaned forward and hugged herself. Quinn leaped toward her, but she pushed him off, her strength several times that of what he expected from someone in her condition.
“He’s doing it. He promised he would. Years ago he promised he’d have his revenge and now he’s making good on his vow.”
“Eirene.” Quinn tried again, laying a hand on her back. Her body was so thin, he could feel the vibration from the heavy wails echoing through her chest. “Eirene!”
Kneeling down, Quinn tried to find some way to get through to her. “Please listen to me. You have to tell me what you know. You have to tell me what happened. You have to give me the information so I can protect her.”
Nothing he said got through, the woman’s wails only getting louder as paralyzing fear gripped her in its claws. Quinn was afraid to leave her, yet unsure of how to help.
Trying once again, he whispered what he hoped were soothing, hushing sounds. Then, voice firm, he tried once more. “Eirene. You must listen to me. You must help me take care of Montana.”
At the sound of her daughter’s name, the mournful cries subsided, even as she continued rocking in place. Satisfied he’d done something right, Quinn pressed her once more. “You have to help me help Montana. You have to tell me what you know. What did you mean, he promised?”
Eirene lifted her head to look at him, rivers of tears running down her cheeks. For several long moments, all he heard was the whirl of the computer equipment behind him and the heavy, thready sounds of her labored breathing.
Quinn had almost decided to go get Callie anyway when Eirene spoke. Her voice—normally husky with the pain she endured—was quiet and scratchy in the hush of the room.
“Arturo was never my lover. No man was until Jack. But when I walked away from Arturo, he promised me he’d come find me. When I least expected it, he told me, he’d hurt me in ways I could never imagine.” Another sob burst forth on a keening wail.
“Why Montana? Why now?”
The sobs continued, but through it, Eirene gave him the information he needed. “He couldn’t hurt me before. I was as immortal as he. Even more so, as a goddess.”
“And now?”
“Look at me!” Her voice cracked on her scream as Eirene slapped a hand against her chest. “He can do nothing to me my body hasn’t already done. But my daughter. My Montana.”
Quinn fought the clawing frustration, desperation to get as much from Eirene as he possibly could. “But why now?”
“I always knew Jack protected her and kept watch over her. He wasn’t immortal, but his money bought a hell of a lot of protection. But not anymore.”
Eirene gripped his arm, her voice so devoid of hope Quinn felt it all the way to the soles of his feet. “Arturo wants Montana. He found the one thing that could hurt me above all else.”
“You have to think about it, Montana. And see your destination.”
“Think about it how?”
Ava and Ilsa stood at the far end of a long room in the basement of the brownstone, the walls filled with bookshelves at certain stretches or weaponry mounted on the wall at other stretches.
Montana looked at the women, about as far away as the length of her corporate boardroom, and wondered again what they meant.
How did you think about teleportation? Or a port, as everyone called it. And what in the world made her think she could ever do this?
“It’s like shoe shopping,” Ava shouted, inspiration lighting up her face.
“Excuse me?” Montana stared down the length of the room.
“Seriously, Ave.” Ilsa gave her a sideways stare. “Shoe shopping?”
“Yes.” Ava nodded vigorously. “You know how you see a pair of shoes and you just know?”
“No—”
“Yes—”
Ilsa’s “no” matched Montana’s “yes” at the same time.
“Great!” Ava gave Ilsa her own sideways stare before instructing again. “Okay. So you see this pair of shoes and you know they’re perfect. They’ll fit right and they’ll be the exact match for this outfit you have and you just know. Focus on that knowledge.”
Shoes and teleportation.
Holy shit.
“Okay.” Montana took a deep breath. “So let’s presume I know what I’m doing. How do I get over there?”
“Think it,” Ilsa hollered across the room.
Think it.
Think it?
“Okay.”
Eyes closed, Montana took a deep breath and tried to assimilate everything the women had told her. Think about where I’m going. See my destination. Know I’ll get there.
“Now!” Ava screamed.
With startling clarity, an image of the women standing at the other end of the room rose up in her mind’s eye.
Think.
See.
Know.
Think.
See.
Know.
Thinkseeknow.
A rush of gravity pulled at her, weighing on her limbs like nothing she’d ever felt before. A scream seized her throat, but before she could release it, the gravity vanished and she was flying.
And then crashing on top of Ava and Ilsa in a huge heap.
Loud giggles suffused the air as Ava and Ilsa screamed in unison. “You did it!”
Montana scrambled up, the three of them shoving at each other like puppies to get into a sitting position.
A quick glance around confirmed she was actually at the other end of the room. Wonder filled her as she tried to stand, but an overwhelming sense of dizziness dropped her flat on her ass. “I’m here.”
“You’re here,” Ilsa confirmed.
“And you two didn’t somehow do this? Or play a trick on me? Or come get me and bring me down
here with your own port?”
Both women shook their heads as they regained their feet and held hands out to help her up. “You did this.”
“But how?” A wild sense of euphoria was quickly replacing the dizziness as Montana grabbed their hands and got to a standing position. She’d gone skydiving several years earlier and had been on an adrenaline high for several days afterward.
Thinking about this—heart racing, blood pumping and an odd little dose of pride to boot—and she had to acknowledge skydiving had nothing on teleportation.
“I want to try it again.”
“You sure?” Ava gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s a lot to take in and you didn’t eat a whole lot at lunch.”
“Does that really have anything to do with it?”
“It has a ton to do with it. Didn’t Quinn tell you?” Ilsa demanded.
“He gave me that book to read. The one you guys used when trying to figure out what was in my back.”
“The man gave you a freaking book to figure all this out?” Now it was Ava’s turn to make demands. “I swear, he is so fucking bullheaded sometimes.”
Montana wasn’t sure why that was so funny, but she couldn’t stop the giggle. “He is a bull, Ava.”
“Not technically.”
“But the tattoo. The one I freaked out about. It’s a bull that comes to life.”
“A bull lives in his aura. That’s all.” Ilsa must have seen her skepticism, because she added, “It’s not a real animal, per se. It’s just…Ava? Help.”
Ava sighed. “Brody tried to explain it to me and I still don’t fully understand it. But it’s one of their gifts from Themis to fight with. It’s a physical manifestation of their sign that comes to life and helps them fight in battle.”
“But Rogan’s wasn’t an animal.”
Both women whipped their heads around toward her, Ilsa sputtering out, “You saw Rogan naked?”
“Just his chest.” Montana shrugged. “And he only has a bow and arrow on his shoulder.”
“Oh good Lord, you saw that man naked. Be still my heart.” Ava clenched a fist to her chest.
“Your husband’s pretty good-looking, Ava,” Montana felt compelled to mention.
