Enslaved (6 page)

He had no fucking idea what was happening, but since returning from the Underworld, the only constant he’d grown to expect was that when weird shit happened in his head, it meant something bad was about to go down. Case in point: what he’d done to Titus and Nick out there in those woods.

Skata
…he really was losing his shaky grasp on reality. Before that happened for good, he had to get out of these fucking caves. And he needed her to get him there.

He pulled her out of their hiding place and back into the tunnel, harder than necessary. A yelp slipped from her lips. He turned her around again so her back was once more plastered against his front and whispered, “Okay, nice and slow. Your fate and the fates of those in this tunnel are in your hands now. Understand?”

She nodded again, swallowed beneath his hand, then cautiously stepped forward.

And in the silence, he told himself that if he was too hard on her, if she was afraid, it was a good thing. Because she should be scared shitless. There was no telling what might set him off or what he’d do next.

Gods, please don’t let me kill her. Just let me get away.

“Good girl,” he managed, reassuring both of them at the same time. “This will be over soon, Maelea. Just do as you’re told and in a few minutes, we’ll both be free.”

Chapter Four

He knew her name. That shouldn’t have surprised Maelea, but it did. And it pushed that frustration and fear even closer to the forefront.

Her body trembled as they moved down the pitch-black tunnel. The voices were gone. She couldn’t even hear footsteps anymore. She wanted to scream out for the sentries to come back, to find her, but knew if she did, Gryphon would make good on his promise.

Tears of anger burned the backs of her eyes. Images of what he’d done to Nick, of what Nick had described he’d done to Titus, swam in her mind. She bit her lip beneath his palm, reminded herself that any kind of unexpected reaction from her would only lead to his being trapped…to his doing something drastic, like injuring either her or those sentries. Like killing them all.

There were worse things than being a prisoner, she told herself. He’d said he just needed her to get out of the tunnels. She had to believe he’d hold to that promise. Once he was free, she’d be a burden—something to slow him down. He’d want to get away as fast as possible. There was no other reason for him to keep her.

They turned a corner. Her elbow knocked into rock and she bit down harder on her lip to keep from crying out, tasted blood against her tongue. His hand slid from her hip to her elbow and rubbed until the pain dissipated. And at the soothing and way-too-comforting touch, warning bells went off like giant red flags waving in the wind.

Oh
yes, there’s a reason he would keep you around.

Every muscle in her body tightened as his hand moved back to her hip, his fingers digging into the pressure points of her groin to direct her movements. She suddenly became aware of his powerful thighs brushing her hamstrings, of his hips pressing up against her backside. And she remembered all too well how his fingers had grazed the underside of her breasts when he had her pinned in that cramped space only moments ago, how heat had radiated from his body to hers, how he’d hardened—even if only slightly—behind the fly of his jeans.

No. He couldn’t possibly want her for that.

Why
not? He’s a monster. Like Hades. You feel the darkness of the Underworld inside him.

Anger and an increased need to escape vibrated within her. Options raced through her mind. Dammit, she’d lost her backpack in the orchard. She had no weapons now. Nothing to use to even attempt to overpower him. How was she going to get away?

She had to get away.

They rounded another corner. A light burned ahead. He jerked her back into the darkness, even tighter against him. Near her ear, he whispered, “Shh…” and his hot breath sent gooseflesh all over the skin of her neck. A sensation that was both terrifying and electric. “Don’t move.”

Voices echoed ahead—several—in the central opening of the cave where the tunnels all joined together. Hope erupted in her chest. He’d never make it past them. There were too many. There was no choice for him but to surrender.

“He’s got to be in here,” a male voice said—Nick’s voice. “I want two in every tunnel and the rest of you here when he shows himself.”

Boots clomped. Metal clanged. The sounds grew closer. Someone was heading their way.

Yes!

“
Skata
.” Gryphon jerked her back down the tunnel they’d just come through. Maelea’s foot slipped on the rocks and a muffled yelp fell from her lips as she scrambled for her footing, trying to keep up in the blinding darkness. Back toward the direction of the orchard, which they seemed to be backtracking to, another voice rang out.

A growl emanated from Gryphon. He yanked her around, tight to his side, both of their backs pressing against the cold rocks. Water dripped down from somewhere above to send a chill over Maelea’s skin as she worked to catch her breath.

But the anger…it built inside her. Vibrated stronger. Gave her a confidence she didn’t know she had.

“You…you can’t get out,” she rasped, her courage growing. “There are too many. It’s over.”

“I say when it’s over!” His fingers dug into her wrist. He dragged her toward an elbow deeper in the tunnel. Dim voices still echoed from the central space of the cave, but they weren’t following. The footsteps ahead echoed louder. Someone was running toward them. A light barreled closer.

The sentry from before. The one who’d gone back to check the orchard door. It had to be. She needed to do something fast before Gryphon killed him.

“Here!” she screamed. “I’m here!”

Gryphon’s fingers dug into her wrist with a death grip, and he yanked her so close, the air whooshed out of her lungs. The sentry’s boots skidded to a stop.

Whatever fear she’d felt before was replaced with determination. She wasn’t going to go willingly this time. She had let Orpheus drag her to this colony. She’d spent her life hiding. But not anymore. This time, she was in control.

She jerked hard on Gryphon’s arm. “No! I’m not going any farther with you.”

Light from the sentry’s lantern ahead curved around the bend, illuminating the cave and Gryphon’s enraged eyes. Behind her, toward the main chamber of the caves, voices dimmed as if they’d heard her too. An eerie silence settled over the space, followed by the squawk of a radio from the sentry frozen around the corner.

Fear raced down her spine, but she held her ground. And when Gryphon muttered, “Stupid female,” and his grip tightened on her wrist, she didn’t even think, she reacted.

She wrenched her arm from his grip. Electricity raced down her arm. The force of it hit the rocks at her feet, vibrated through the floor of the cave. A great cracking sound echoed.

“Dammit,” Gryphon muttered, glaring into her eyes, taking one menacing step forward.

She braced herself for his fury, for the first time not afraid of what might happen to her. Energy rippled through her limbs, into the rocks beneath her feet. But before he could reach out and grasp her again, a rumble echoed through the tunnel.

Gryphon stopped. Looked up and around. Voices echoed through the cramped space. And Maelea took the opportunity to strike.

She thrust her arms out full force. “No, you son of a bitch.”

Her palms connected with his chest. Energy shot from her into him, from her legs into the floor. He stumbled back a step, lost his footing, started to go down. Then an ear-shattering crack echoed through the cave.

As Gryphon hit the ground with a grunt, dim voices grew stronger. Boots clomped over rock. And Orpheus’s voice rang out strong. Calling…her name.

She turned toward the sound. Screamed, “I’m here!”

But her voice was drowned out by the roar of rushing water. Rushing fast.

“Maelea!”

She looked back over her shoulder where Gryphon was pushing up from the ground, trying to come after her. Her eyes flew wide. Another burst of energy rippled through her body. Followed by an earth-shaking roar just as the ceiling opened up and a wave of water poured into the tunnel.

The force knocked him off his feet. He slammed into her, kicked her legs out from under her. She hit his chest hard, gasped as water sprayed her face, filled her lungs. Gryphon’s fingers dug into her biceps, dragging her with him down the slippery cave floor, rushing in a river of water right for Orpheus and the others racing in their direction.

She tried to catch her breath, tried to twist away from Gryphon. Through blurry vision, she saw lights ahead. People coming their way. Orpheus’s face.

“Hang on to me!” Gryphon yelled over the thunder of water.

No
.
Never.
She fought against him. Lashed out with her arms, tried to kick away with her feet.

Another crack resounded. Her eyes grew wide. Locked on Orpheus and Nick skidding to a stop. Then the rocks gave out beneath them.

She managed one bleating scream. And felt nothing but air.

***

Atalanta was in a time crunch.

She glanced at the calendar mounted to the wall as her frustration grew exponentially. “Galto!”

The clacking of nails against stone echoed through the room, followed by a raspy voice at her back. “Yes, my queen.”

She turned to glare down at the three-foot-tall, scaly, goblinlike creature she’d dragged back from the Underworld when she escaped after following Gryphon and the daemon spawn out. “What news of my
doulas
?”

Galto rubbed his gnarled hands together, his forked tongue licking his dry lips. One pointed ear turned back as if to listen for movement behind him. “Nothing, my queen. It’s as if he’s vanished from the human realm.”

“Imbeciles.” Atalanta brushed her long red robe behind her and moved to the window to look out at the sea of snow. She craved the cold. Even her realm in the Underworld—when she’d resided there and had been building her army of daemons—had been a frigid wasteland, so different from the fiery chasm of Tartarus. But as a goddess, she’d had the power to turn her little corner of hell into whatever she wanted. Here in the human realm, she had to resort to locating her base where cold weather persisted. And though she’d have preferred to be somewhere isolated, like Antarctica, her daemons couldn’t flash from place to place on earth as she could. They were limited by the same laws of physics as humans—and Argoleans. Which meant she had to set up camp someplace convenient for them and cold enough for her. Since her fortress in northern British Columbia had been destroyed by those bastard Argonauts, she’d been forced here. To sunny, sinfully cold Scandinavia.

Revenge whipped through her. She would not rest until she saw Argolea in ruins and those pompous Argonauts in chains. They’d shunned her. Cast her out because she’d dared question their order. Banished not only her, but her love.

Thoughts of Meleager—the only person who’d ever understood her and who’d died standing up for her—drifted through her mind. So many years alone. So many disappointments. But it all ended now.

I’ll make them pay, my love. I promise you they’ll burn for what they did to you.

“Perhaps…” Galto started.

She glared over her shoulder at the disgusting creature.

“Perhaps he’s in Argolea?”

Atalanta looked back over the snow. And sent out feelers. Searching. Scanning. Drawing on the darkness of the Underworld that had been bestowed on her
doulas
. “No, he’s out there somewhere. I can feel him. The pull is too strong for him to be in Argolea. Besides, after what was done to him in the Underworld”—a wicked smile twisted her lips—“he’d never have the nerve to face his fellow warriors in Argolea. His honor would be too strong for that. He’s out there, Galto. But he’s fighting the darkness.”

“He will eventually give in. He can’t resist much longer. We just have to wait for that to happen.”

Atalanta looked back to the calendar on the wall. Six months. Krónos, the king of the Titans, had given her six months to get the Orb, and more than two had already passed. Even though Krónos was locked in the depths of Tartarus, he still commanded a power like no other. Atalanta didn’t doubt for a minute that if the six-month mark hit and she didn’t live up to their bargain, he’d drag her back to the Underworld and make good on his threat to turn her into his slave.

“We don’t have time to wait,” she said, angling back to Galto. “Send a group of daemons to the Pacific Northwest. The half-breeds are likely hiding him.”

She’d wasted too much time rounding up her daemons and rebuilding the army those blasted Argonauts had scattered after she’d been sent to the Underworld. But that was rectified now, and her army was growing in strength
and
number, thanks to her new breed of daemons—hybrids who looked human but could shift into daemon form at any time.

“But, my queen. We haven’t been able to locate the half-breed colony yet.”