Wicked: Eternal Guardians

by Naughton, Elisabeth

  Nysa moved behind Talisa and went back to fixing her hair, and as Talisa watched her in the mirror and tried to make sense of the nymph’s words, she remembered what the Fate had told her. About the last time she and Zagreus had been together—before the Fates had decided to stop interfering.

  “Wait a minute.” Talisa’s hands grew damp, and her stomach pitched—this time in utter disbelief. “Are you saying your race is somehow linked to his…”

  “Libido? Yes.”

  Holy shit. Talisa’s eyes flew wide. The nymph had said the word.

  But… It didn’t make any sense. He was Hades’s son. Why would Hades’s son be linked to a bunch of nymphs? Was it because she’d been a nymph in her past lives? Was this one more way the Fates had fucked things up?

  Nysa chuckled and continued fiddling with Talisa’s hair. “Don’t look so shocked. When he’s celibate, we are infertile. It was never a big issue before, but five hundred years was a longer dry spell than any of us were used to. After last night, though, everything’s changed. And we need you to make sure his fires keep burning.”

  Talisa’s cheeks heated when the nymph winked at her in the mirror. Before she could get too wigged out—or excited—by the implication, though, she remembered Cynna.

  She turned on the bench and looked up at Nysa. “But he hasn’t been celibate. Not the entire time as you said. Twenty-eight years ago, before I was born, he had a female with him in his lair in the Yucatan. They called her the Mistress of Pain. I know because it was someone from my world.”

  “He might have. I didn’t know him then. But he did not have sexual relations with her, at least not the kind that brought him to completion. That I can guarantee. The maenads would have become fertile if he had.”

  “Even though he wasn’t in Ehrendia?”

  “We are his devoted followers. We’re linked to him no matter where he is.”

  Talisa’s gaze dropped to the nymph’s white dress. He hadn’t had sex with Cynna? Holy shit. If that was true…

  No wonder he was in a perpetual bad mood. Five hundred years was a really freakin’ long dry spell for any otherworldly creature, but for a god as powerful as him…

  Her whole body grew hot and tight when she remembered climbing over him last night, kissing him, taking hold of his magnificent erection…

  She knew he probably didn’t remember a lot from last night—he’d looked more than a little shell-shocked when he’d seen her in the courtyard today—but she suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about doing all of that again. And consciously breaking that dry spell for him once and for all.

  Nysa squeezed her shoulder, interrupting Talisa’s spinning thoughts. When Talisa looked up, the nymph smiled sweetly.

  “I’m not trying to freak you out, princess. The prince is complicated. I know he’s kept females around in the past, but I can tell you with certainty they were not kept for his sexual gratification. They were kept as a distraction. Five hundred years is a long time to be alone. Emotionally, it hardened him. He turned in on himself. Moved back into the dark. No matter who he had by his side during that time, though, he was always looking for his mono mia—for you.”

  Nysa’s expression softened. “He’s changed since you came into his life, Talisa. He’s stepped into the light. The most important thing at this point is keeping him in that light so he isn’t drawn back to the darkness. Because Ehrendia—the whole world, actually—is a much better place when he’s in the light.”

  Talisa’s conversation with Lachesis last night rushed through her mind again, and her heart kicked up as she stared at Nysa.

  The Fates had given up on Zagreus. On his destiny. But when they’d sensed a flicker of light still inside him, they’d sent him back with one last assignment. Talisa didn’t know what that assignment was, but Lachesis had made it sound as if he’d already accomplished it.

  But what if he was meant for something more? What if—with her—he could be exactly what they’d originally hoped?

  Excitement stirred inside her. An excitement that wasn’t just about sex or the maenads or Zagreus’s connection to them. It was about purpose. Something he’d had in the past. Something Talisa had been lacking her whole damn life.

  She squeezed Nysa’s hand at her shoulder. “You’re not freaking me out. Not at all. And I’ll do whatever I can to make sure he stays in the light. I promise.”

  “Well, then…” Nysa smiled again, reached for both of Talisa’s hands, and pulled her to her feet. “I think we both need to get dressed so we can get out to that feast. Because we both have a date with destiny, it seems.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  He should have put a stop to this silly festival.

  Normally, Zagreus steered clear of the maenads and their ritual feasts, but tonight he was watching carefully. And he had no plans to leave.

  Not until she left.

  Music echoed through the courtyard. Lanterns cast twinkling light over the garlands of grape and jasmine strung across the space, illuminating the candlelit tables and partygoers sipping wine, the bodies filling the dance floor, the nymphs and silens already getting drunk and losing their inhibitions.

  He stood in the shadows on the edge of the stones, watching as Talisa laughed up at her dance partner, then twirled under his arm.

  The late-September night was warm. Warm enough not to need a jacket. Warm enough not to need much clothing at all, which was the point of this stupid feast.

  “Damn nymphomaniacs,” he muttered.

  A sileni at a nearby table—Dhar, Zagreus vaguely remembered was the male’s name—chuckled, drawing Zagreus’s attention. The male was focused on Talisa as if she were a treat he couldn’t wait to devour.

  Zagreus growled low in his throat. The sileni’s gaze darted Zagreus’s direction then widened with fear. Looking quickly away, he abandoned his wine and rushed from his table.

  Clenching his jaw, Zagreus went back to watching Talisa, not caring if he was being an ass or what Dhar thought of him. This party had disaster written all over it. And he was pretty sure he had Nysa to blame for whatever it caused him to do.

  Talisa threw her head back and laughed again. Zagreus’s gaze narrowed as the male grinned, slid his arms around her waist, and pulled her in close. And before Zagreus realized it, he growled once more, watching as the male’s fingers flexed against the bare flesh at her lower spine.

  He was certain he had Nysa to blame for Talisa’s “look” tonight as well. Her silky dark hair was pulled up on the sides and clipped back with green and gold grape leaves that glittered under the lights. Soft curls fell down her spine, swishing over her shoulder each time she turned. Her make-up was dramatic, accentuating her unique violet eyes and drawing attention to her plump red lips. But it was the outfit she wore that really set him on edge.

  The top consisted of nothing more than a bra with cap sleeves, made out of some green shimmery fabrics that looked as if the only things covering her ample breasts were leaves. The matching skirt was so low on her hips every male in the place could see her toned abs and belly button, and so short it barely covered her ass.

  Each time she laughed, the sound was like fingernails on a chalkboard, making Zagreus’s nerves go haywire. Every time the male moved his hand against her bare skin, he saw red. And when she glanced Zagreus’s way with those familiar, evocative eyes—as she was doing now—that heat he’d been trying to ignore all day flared hot and wild inside him.

  Fragmented memories filled his head, causing his skin to tingle. Her long fingers rushing across his flesh. Her lithe body climbing over his. Her warm breath fanning his cheek. And her luscious lips whispering, “It’ll never be too late, dios. Not for you and me.”

  The music changed. He watched as she smiled at her dance partner, then eased out of his arms and stepped toward a nearby table where she reached for a goblet of wine.

  Most of the females were dressed in the same skimpy outfits as Talisa. The males were all shirtless, and every one of the partygo
ers were barefoot. But none captured Zagreus’s attention. None were like a beacon he couldn’t ignore. None but the intoxicating female staring at him over the cup at her lips while bodies swayed together at her back.

  His pulse kicked up as she set the glass down, moved around the table, then headed his direction, her smoldering eyes never leaving his.

  She shouldn’t be here. She should already be back in her realm, as far from him as she could get. And never in a million years should she be staring at him like that.

  He fixed an impassive look on his face as she drew close and crossed his arms over his chest. She stopped mere steps away, but he didn’t meet her gaze. Was determined to keep his eyes on the ridiculous party instead. And he wasn’t about to be distracted by her skimpy outfit. Or that eroticly spicy scent he remembered oh-so well.

  “You stick out like a sore thumb, you know.”

  He tightened his jaw and didn’t respond, continuing to look past her in the hopes she’d get the hint and move on.

  “It’s a festival, not a funeral.”

  His focus wavered, and he made the mistake of glancing at her. Mischief twinkled in her eyes. Mischief and heat and all kinds of temptations he couldn’t give in to.

  “You should try smiling instead of scowling.” A coy grin curled her lips. “It would make you look less miserable.”

  He forced his gaze away and looked back out toward Nysa and Rhen pressing against each other, then to the other nymphs and silens already partnering up for what he knew would come next.

  He was always miserable. It was the one thing he could count on in his never-ending life. And lucky him, he had only more misery to look forward to when she wised up and returned to her own world, where she belonged.

  She belongs with you…

  He ignored the voice in his head, the one that was responsible for every one of the fuckups in his life, and tried to figure out how long he had before the silens passed the point of no return.

  Soft fingers wrapped around his forearms and tugged. Surprised, he looked down again only to realize Talisa was drawing him away from the column and out of the shadows.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with a scowl.

  “Dancing with you.” She let go of his arms, stepped close, and skimmed her hands up his chest and around his neck. “Or trying to, at least. What do you think I’m doing?”

  Her sinful body grazed his. The amulet on the chain around her neck pressed between them. His grey matter fogged, just as it always had near her. Only this time was worse. A thousand times worse. And he wasn’t sure why.

  Reluctantly, he let his hands fall to her hips, but he didn’t slide them around her back or pull her closer. And he didn’t sway, even when she started to move. “I think you’re trying to piss me off by not following my orders.”

  “I told you before, I never do as I’m told. Lighten up, already, Grumpy Prince. Everyone’s looking.”

  “I don’t give a shit if they look at me.” He glanced over her head only to realize no one was looking at him—at them. The nymphs and silens were already too lost in the wine and each other to care about anything else.

  Shit. That was going to be a problem. This little party was about to turn into a clusterfuck faster than he’d realized.

  He was just about to tell her it was time to go when he caught her expression from the corner of his eye. Not irritation. Not wariness. No, the minx was grinning up at him as if she found him completely amusing.

  He cursed himself for letting her distract him. “Stop smiling like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t like it.”

  The sweet sound of her laughter drifted in the air. “You know, you were a lot more fun at that club where we met.”

  Memories of the way she’d ground against him in that club filled his mind. Memories he shouldn’t have, dammit. Memories he shouldn’t like. Going to that club had been a giant mistake. Just as every second with her in this lifetime and all the rest had been mistakes.

  Straightening, he looked past her again only to realize—shit—he was now staring at the column he’d been leaning against earlier. Which meant he was dancing with her. Something he’d told himself he wouldn’t do.

  “Do you still have a concussion?”

  His gaze snapped back to hers. “What?”

  “Your head? Does it still hurt?”

  “No.”

  “How about a fever?”

  He had no idea what she was talking about. “I don’t have a fever.”

  “Then I must.” She pushed to her toes and brought her mouth within a breath of his. “Touch me and tell me if I’m hot.”

  His feet came to a stop. He stared down at her, sure he’d heard her wrong. Sure he was hallucinating again.

  She laughed, lowered to her heels, then pushed away. “Well, if you’re not interested in checking, I guess I’ll go find someone else who is.”

  She turned to face the dance floor then whispered, “Oh my…”

  Zagreus’s brain was pure mush, but Talisa’s breathy words filtered through the fog, causing him to blink and look toward what had caught her attention.

  The music had changed. It was no longer festive but now a suggestive beat with a heavy bass. The lights had dimmed. Electricity charged the air. And while bodies still littered the dance floor, all eyes were focused on one couple in the middle—on a nymph and sileni getting hot and heavy as they made out in the center of the crowd.

  “Well, now,” Talisa said in a low voice, her gaze fixed on the couple. “Those two definitely look like they have a fever.” She lifted a hand to her throat as she watched the male push the straps of the skimpy dress down the nymph’s shoulders. “Wait. Are those horns coming out of his head?”

  Motherfucker. Those were definitely horns. And in a matter of seconds, that sileni was going to bust the seams on his pants as the rest of the change came over him.

  Zagreus stepped up to Talisa, grasped her hand, and turned her to face him. Sliding his arms around her waist, he said, “Hold on to me.”

  “Mm…” She smiled and let her hands drift up his chest once more. “Now, that’s the spirit.”

  His blood warmed, but he tried to ignore it. She’d had a fair bit of the nymphs’ wine, and he knew the effect that wine could have. The only smart thing he’d done tonight was not partake in any himself.

  Like you need any to get you going…

  He clenched his jaw, ignored that voice again, too, and said, “Don’t let go.”

  The muscles in his arms and legs contracted, and air whooshed past their faces as the ground disappeared beneath their feet.

  Seconds later, they stood on the balcony off his room, the lights and sounds of the party far below.

  “What the…?” Talisa pushed her hands against his chest. She glanced around the verandah with its potted trees and patio furniture then looked back to him when she realized where they were. “If you wanted to get me off alone, all you had to do was ask.”

  “I’m not staying. But you are.” He let go of her and jerked both balcony doors to his suite open. “Where I know you can’t get into any trouble. Tomorrow, when it’s light, I’ll take you beyond the border so you can open a portal back to your realm. Where you belong.”

  “Where I belong,” she muttered at his back. Then louder, “Thanks, but no. If you’re leaving, I’ll just go back to the party.”

  He rounded on her. “You are not going back to that party.”

  “Why not?” She lifted her chin, challenge reflecting clearly in her violet eyes. “Just because you don’t like to have fun—”

  “Fun? You think what those satyrs are doing down there is fun?”

  “Satyrs?” Her cute little brows drew together. “What satyrs? I didn’t see any—”

  Moans echoed from the courtyard below. Low moans that definitely weren’t the kind nymphs made when they were in pain.

  “Oooh.” Talisa’s eyes widened, and she glanced over
her shoulder toward the balustrade. “Those are maenad nymphs, and that festival is really a...”

  “Yeah, now you get it.” He clenched his jaw, thankful she didn’t move toward that balustrade for a better view. The only thing he was thankful for tonight.

  She turned back to face him and crossed her arms under her ample chest, accentuating her cleavage, dammit. The one part of her he didn’t need to be looking at. “I’d think most people would expect that to be right up your alley.”

  He huffed and moved farther away from her. “I have no interest in their silly orgies. And making offerings to a stupid god is as useless as praying for the Fates to stop meddling in shit that doesn’t concern them.”

  When she didn’t answer, only continued to stare at him, a tingle rushed down his spine, one that made him uneasy.

  He’d said too much. Done too damn much these past few days. Bringing her here had been a giant fucking mistake, just as that irritating voice in the back of his head had warned it would be. If he hadn’t been so obsessed with the idea of her, he would have known that sooner.

  But now that he was thinking clearly, he could see the truth staring him in the face.

  She wasn’t the same. Too much time had passed. And he was done being a patsy for the gods.

  “Don’t go down there.” He moved into his bedchamber, intent only on getting away from her before he did something he’d regret later. “The silens might not look like satyrs, but they are. And though they’re docile most days, they’re unpredictable in a frenzy. Even with your super-hero strength, you’re no match for a pack of horny beasts.”

  He crossed the hardwood floor and made it all the way to the heavy oak door before her voice stopped him.

  “No, I’m definitely no match for a pack of horny beasts. Just a grouchy prince. But I guess you’re no match for me, are you? Since you’re running.”