Entwined (26 page)

“Callia?” He gripped her shoulders, the questions in his eyes turning to dread. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” She swallowed hard, dropped her hand. Barely believed what she was about to say. But somehow, in some way, it felt like the truth. “I think my father lied to us about everything. Zander, I think our son might still be alive.”

Max knew Fort Nelson was the first place Atalanta would send her monsters to look for him, so he stayed in the woods and crossed the river well downstream. It had snowed recently, but the Fort Nelson fork wasn’t yet frozen, though the water was colder than Atalanta’s bitter wasteland.

The metal disk warmed his chest as he moved, and though he couldn’t be sure, it almost felt like that warmth was trickling down into his limbs as well.

Super cool.

He climbed out of the river on the other side, shivered and ducked into the trees. He couldn’t wait too long—he had to keep moving—but he needed a minute to catch his breath. Sitting near the base of a tree, he pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs and tried to warm himself. A water droplet dripped down from the top of his head. He watched it splash on his forearm, then evaporate into the air.

He looked closer. Watched the next droplet hit and disappear as well.

Freaky.

Easing back, he glanced at his arms. They were already dry. Then at his legs, where his jeans were nearly dry as well. Against his chest the disk burned hot but didn’t sear his skin. His sweatshirt was now only slightly damp and his
coat was wet just at the sleeves. He reached up and touched the disk with his fingers, smiled and knew then it really did have magic inside.

He scrambled to his feet with a burst of energy he’d lacked before. Then he hiked another mile to the Alaska Highway and hid out in the brush until he saw the headlights of a semitruck far off in the distance.

Confidence breathed new life into him, and he stepped out onto the side of the road, waving his arms.

The lights barreled closer. With the layer of ice covering the road he wasn’t even sure the truck could stop. But then the whine of gears shifting down met his ears, and the truck slowed to stop twenty feet in front of him.

He ran toward the cab, around to the driver’s side. Slowly, the window lowered. Max squinted to look up at the human face peering back.

“You lost, boy?”

“Um…” Now what? “No. Not exactly.”

The man perched his arm on the window ledge and leaned over to get a good look at Max. “That coat won’t keep you very warm out here. Temps are droppin’ like twenties in a strip club. Where you come from, boy?”

“Uh…” He couldn’t say Fort Nelson. He thought about what little he knew of this area. “Alaska.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Alaska, huh? How’d you get all the way out here?”

“I walked.”

The man looked him over again, seemed to focus on his face. And the hair on the back of Max’s neck stood straight under that scrutinizing gaze. “You runnin’ away from some-thin’?”

Sweat broke out on Max’s brow. “No.”

“Uh-huh,” the man said, unconvincingly. “How’d you get that bruise?”

Max ran his fingers over his left cheekbone. The only thing he could think of was when he’d attacked Zelus earlier. “I…I don’t know.”

The man harrumphed. Then finally nodded toward the passenger side of the truck. “Get in.”

Max’s eyebrows shot up. He stood frozen for a split second before racing around the front of the truck and climbing up the tall steps. Once inside, the heat of the cab instantly warmed his last cold spots.

The trucker stared over at him. The man was probably in his fifties, with thinning hair on top, a round belly and cal-lused hands that had seen a lot of work. “Name’s Jeb. I run the West Coast route for a small company in Vancouver. Where you headed, boy?”

Max twisted his hands in his lap. He hadn’t thought too far ahead. Where could he go? He’d heard Atalanta and Thanatos talk about a half-breed colony down south. “Oregon.”

“What’s in Oregon?”

Max knew not to be too secretive. But he wasn’t about to give anything away. “I have relatives there.”

Jeb studied Max closely again, then finally said, “I’m on my way to my base in Vancouver. Have to pick up a load, then I’m heading to Las Vegas. You don’t cause too much trouble, you can ride along.”

“Th-thanks.” Max leaned back in his seat. But he didn’t relax. Something warned him to be on guard. This guy might just be human, but Max had learned long ago not to trust anyone.

Jeb shifted. The gears whined and echoed as metal scraped metal and the big rig picked up speed. “Yeah, I never liked my old man much either. Mean cuss. I sure the hell hope you’re runnin’ somewhere better than that, boy.”

So did Max.

Callia bolted as soon as they came through the portal in the Gatehouse.

Zander reached for her, but she slithered out of his grip and sprinted for the door. “Dammit, Callia. Wait!”

The two Executive Guards stationed at the portal exchanged
bewildered glances. Zander searched for the Argonaut on duty training the newest recruits. None of the Argonauts were thrilled with the Council’s decision to turn monitoring of the portal over to their guards, but babysitting rankled even more, and Gryphon—the lucky guardian this time—looked ready to beat his head against a wall.

“Zander—what the hell?”

Zander ignored the question and moved toward the door. “Get Theron and the others and get to the Argolion,” he shouted.

Gryphon’s light eyebrows drew together as he pushed up from his chair. “Why in Hades would you be going to see the Council?”

“Just do it!”

He raced out the door of the Gatehouse and stopped on the sidewalk outside the building. The city of Tiyrns sparkled in the fall sunlight. A crisp breeze brushed past his face. He searched the busy street for Callia but didn’t see her. Closing his eyes, he envisioned the Argolion—the ancient building that housed the Council gatherings and the council members’ offices. In seconds he flashed to the steps outside the massive building and darted inside.

Rows of columns lined the inner corridor. Not seeing Callia anywhere in the great lobby, he headed toward the Council chambers and prayed they weren’t in session. The marble floor gleamed before him as he moved. He cursed himself for not planning this better.

He rounded the corner and spotted her ahead, about to open the double doors into the Council chambers. “Callia! Wait!”

She turned, looked at him, and the torment in her eyes all but killed him. “I have to see my father.”

He grasped her arm and gently turned her toward him. “He may be in session. Wait until Theron gets here and we’ll question him then. He—”

“I don’t care, Zander. Ten years. It’s been ten years!”

She pushed the door open before he could stop her,
ducked under his arm and disappeared inside. He moved to grab her but drew up short when he stepped inside and all sound ground to a halt.

Twelve Council members sat in high-backed chairs in a circle around the Great Alpha Seal carved in marble in the middle of the floor. Behind the circle, on a raised platform, Isadora, the royal representative for the meeting, sat in a regal chair, overseeing the proceedings. To her right, Casey stood watching, and standing on both sides of the sisters, alert and armed, were two members of the Executive Guard.

All eyes turned their way. Tension permeated the air. Zander cast a quick glance around the room and found two, three…five more guards stationed at the exits to the circular chamber.

Skata
, they should have waited for Theron and the others.

“What is the meaning of this disruption,” Lucian, the leader of the Council, said, brow furrowed as he rose to stand in front of his chair. The
rompa
, or ancient red robe each Council member wore during proceedings, draped around to pool at his feet.

“I need to speak with my father,” Callia announced, her gaze zooming in on her father, seated to Lucian’s right.

“Callia,” her father admonished, rising himself. “This is uncalled for.”

“You lied to me,” she said.

Her father’s shoulders tightened. Zander watched Lucian shoot Simon a questioning look. From the corner of his eye he spotted Loukas—Lucian’s son and the
ándras
Callia’s father had betrothed her to as a child—push to his feet from his seat near the wall on the far side of the room.

Oh, yeah, this was an ideal clusterfuck. All the major players were here, and from the tension suddenly thick in the room, Zander had a feeling things were going to go from bad to worse in no time flat. Three guards he could take and still protect Callia. But not seven. And definitely not on top of the twelve sets of glaring eyes zeroed in on him.

“Callia,” he said quietly as he took a step toward her and reached for her arm.

She shrugged out of his grip and moved inside the circle, coming to stop in the center, just above the great Alpha seal. “You said Zander left me, but he didn’t.”

“Callia.” Her father’s eyes darted from her to Zander and back again. “This is highly inappropriate.”

She ignored him, advanced until she was but a few feet away. And even though Zander was ticked at the way she didn’t listen to him and had bolted without thinking, a small part of him couldn’t help being impressed by her strength and courage. She was surrounded by twenty
ándres
, the twelve strongest politicians in their society and their guards. The ones who had forever scarred her with their twisted cleansing ritual and had the power to destroy her career and everything she’d built for herself over the years. And yet she wasn’t backing down.

“You told him I never wanted to see him again,” she said to her father, “but you lied about that too. You know I would have left here forever with him if I could have.”

Zander’s chest ached at that revelation, but the way Lou-kas stiffened on the other side of the room drew his attention. No one else seemed to notice. All eyes were glued to Callia.

“What else did you lie about?” she asked. “What else have you been hiding from me all these years?”

“Callia,” her father said gently, reaching for her. Zander tensed, ready to lurch to her rescue, but she moved out of her father’s grasp. Simon dropped his hand, flustered. “You’re obviously not thinking clearly to come here and say these things to me. I think you need to go back to your clinic and—”

“Let her speak,” Theron announced from the doorway.

The Council turned in unison toward the arched doorway where Theron stood, flanked by the remaining Argonauts save Demetrius.

Zander breathed out a sigh of relief, turned back to the circle and moved inside to stand behind Callia.

Simon glanced from her to him and back again, then turned to Lucian, the stress of the moment clearly visible in his eyes. “Lord Lucian, I apologize for my daughter’s interruption. May I request that the Council be adjourned until I can deal with this…disruption?”

Lucian’s jaw clenched, irritation evident in his jade green eyes. “So be it. The Council is adjourned until tomorrow.”

Whispers floated on the air as the other ten Council members rose and took their leave, shooting Callia, Zander and the Argonauts questioning looks. But Lucian didn’t move. And neither did Casey nor Isadora, who had joined her sister to stand behind the circle. Out of his peripheral vision, Zander saw Loukas inch toward his father’s side.

Dumbass.
The prick needed to get fucking lost, once and for all.

“Callia,” her father admonished when the others were gone. “This is completely uncalled for. I’m not going to—”

“I want to know what happened on that mountain in Greece,” she said, rolling over him. “I want to know what else you lied to me about. I want to know what you did with my baby.”

Isadora gasped and covered her hand with her mouth, but the princess’s shock was the least of Zander’s worries. Simon’s suddenly wide eyes and pale face triggered a conversation in Zander’s mind.

Things aren’t always what they seem, Guardian. The web of deception spins strongest near those we trust the most.

“What happened to him?” Callia demanded. “What happened to my son?”

Simon’s terror-filled eyes darted from Callia to the Argonauts near the door, then finally to Zander, and held. He ignored Lucian’s muttered questions at his side. Sweat broke out on his forehead. The
ándras
started to shake.

“Make her leave,” Simon said to Zander.

“
What?
” Callia turned to look at Zander, then back to her father. “I’m not going anywhere. If you think after all this time I’m—”

“I’ll tell you,” Simon said to Zander again, ignoring Callia. “But not her. I can’t tell her.”

“Simon,” Lucian hissed. “You are forbidden from speaking!”

A familiar hum lit off in Zander’s blood, a warning that what he was about to hear was anything but good. But he tamped it down and put himself between Callia and her father before she could tear into him again.

“Zander, get out of my—”

He gripped her arms. “Wait outside.”

“No way.”

“I won’t cut you out,” he whispered. “I promise. But for whatever reason, he won’t tell us with you here. You have to go outside.”

She stilled. Stared at him. In the instance of silence that followed, the connection they’d always shared flared deep in his soul. There was a world of hurt and lies between them, but on this they had to be united. On this she had to trust him.

Her jaw clenched, but the muscles in her arms relaxed against his hands. “If you lie to me too—”

“I won’t,” he said softly, hoping she heard the truth in his words.

When she nodded, he glanced over his shoulder at Casey. Without being asked, the king’s half-breed daughter stepped quickly from the raised platform and hustled to Callia’s side. “We’ll wait outside.” She took a step toward the door. “Callia?”

Callia stayed where she was, staring up at Zander. And in her violet eyes he saw clearly for the first time in years. He saw everything she was to him, everything she’d been. Everything he’d done before and during and after their time together, and so much he wanted to do over. He saw…his soul, as clearly as if he were looking inside himself. And he saw his life. Not ending like he’d thought when he’d spoken to Lachesis on that mountain cliff, but continuing on, through her, because of her, with her.