The woman was as prickly as the tree she was named for.
Theron scowled as he followed behind Acacia on the narrow path. He hadn’t been able to talk her out of her crazy plan to search for the youngling. Though Theron was loath to have her anywhere out in the open, he knew when he was up against a rock wall of stubbornness, and he was quickly discovering Acacia could dig her heels in with the best of them.
Since there was no way he could trust her safety to anyone but himself, he’d had to come along. They’d separated from the others more than an hour ago, and he scanned the forest on both sides as they moved. Odds were good the child was already dead, though why that bothered him so much was as foreign as why he couldn’t stop thinking about getting between Acacia’s thighs right this very minute.
Focus, dammit.
There were a thousand things he should be concentrating on, namely how in Hades it was possible a half-breed had the gift of hindsight. But the only thing he could think about right now was how soft her skin had been last night, how lush her body, how perfectly she’d fit against him.
“You’re doing it again,” she said from ahead.
He lifted his head. “Doing what?”
“That muttering thing in another language. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that’s rude?”
He glanced at the soft sway of her hips as she moved and the way she filled out the backside of her jeans. “Would you prefer I spoke my thoughts in English?”
The husky timbre of his voice must have registered, because she stopped abruptly and turned on him. Her cheeks were pink from the cool morning air, but there was a heat in her that had nothing to do with the temperature. Her gaze raked his face, slid down to his chest and hovered there until his blood warmed with arousal.
“Look your fill, meli,” he whispered.
Her eyes snapped to his just before she swiveled on her heels and resumed walking. “I don’t like you.”
One side of his mouth curved in amusement as he followed. She was a terrible liar, something he’d discovered early on. The knowledge thrilled him. “Yes, you do. You like me a lot.”
“I may have. Once.” She lifted a branch so she could move under it, then released it with perfect timing so it smacked him in the face.
He chuckled even as he rubbed at the sting on his cheek. He liked that she stood up to him. There wasn’t a gynaíka in Argolea who would dare try to tell him what to do. If he had to be stuck out here, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather be stuck with. The woman had to be exhausted, they’d been walking for nearly an hour, but she was determined, and she wasn’t letting it affect her mood. Every time he suggested they look in a different direction and that it was inconceivable for a child to walk this far, she’d flicked him a look and kept going.
“That is,” she added, cutting through his thoughts, “I may have liked you before you set out to seduce me and then walked out without a word.”
Ouch. “Acacia.” He stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. This wasn’t the time or place to get into it, but he had an overwhelming urge to explain what had happened that night and why he’d left.
Though why he thought he could make her understand when he was still having trouble rationalizing the whole thing was beyond him.
“What happened between us had nothing to do with why I’m here now. I didn’t know who you were then. I only learned of your identity when I went to the store to find you.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth. Look in my eyes. You’ll see that I’m not lying.”
She did. And their eyes met. Then a blush crept up her cheeks, one that told him she was remembering exactly what had happened between them.
That warmth went white-hot. Urgent and needy. So demanding it blocked out the rational side of his brain, which warned this was a bad idea.
Before he thought better of it, he reached for her other arm. “Do you believe in fate?”
“You mean like destiny?” He nodded, and she shook her head. “No. Everyone makes their own decisions.”
“But do you believe fate gives us choices, and where we go is up to us?”
Her violet eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking me this?”
What exactly could he tell her? How much did he want her to know? That her life span could probably be counted in days, not years? That she was pegged to bring about the beginning of a war that would hopefully free his people? That he was starting to suspect she was his soul mate, and aside from the sexual benefits that conjured in his mind, the idea pretty much creeped him out?
None of that sounded like anything she would believe, or understand, so he opted for what was most pressing. And figured a little bit of honesty couldn’t hurt at this point. “I think fate’s playing a trick on us. I’ve had these…strange feelings…that you and I were brought together for a reason that has nothing to do with your father.”
She leveled him with a look that was so damn sexy, he itched to kiss it from her face. “Hearing voices, are you?”
Yes. “Not exactly. It’s hard to explain.”
“Schizophrenia’s not that uncommon. Try medication.”
Smartass. “I don’t think—”
“Me either.” The humor in her eyes faded. “My so-called father brought us together because he wants something from me. That’s not fate, Theron. That’s manipulation.”
“And what do you call this…this attraction between us?”
She cocked her head. “Your problem?”
“I call it opportunity. A chance to see if fate is really pushing us toward a combined destiny. And there’s one way to know for sure.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How?”
He moved closer, barely brushing his body against hers, and felt her shudder. And oh, yeah, as far as gambles went, this was the big one. “All it takes is one night.”
She blinked twice. “Are you for real?”
“In my world, an ándras can tell if a gynaíka is his soul mate by sharing a bed.”
“Soul mate. I see. And I’m assuming the whole ‘sharing a bed’ thing would be done in the biblical sense?”
“Is there any other sense?”
She stared at him so long, his blood heated at the knowledge she was considering the offer. He imagined taking her back to the colony, peeling her clothing off one piece at a time, unwrapping the gift of her gorgeous body, then pressing her back on that soft bed and joining them in a way that would tell him for sure if she was his or merely an infatuation he’d soon get over.
The vision was so real, his pants grew tight and his heart rate kicked up in time to the beat of a snare drum. He waited for her to step to him, to ease up on her toes. To bring their mouths together and their bodies into much-needed contact.
But then she laughed. A rolling, rich sound that came from her belly and jerked him right out of the fantasy and dropped him firmly back in reality.
Her laughter went on and on, to the point a frown worked its way between his eyebrows. When she finally paused to breathe, tears were streaming down her face. She reached up to wipe her cheek. “Oh, my God. That was the best line I’ve ever heard. ‘Here, sleep with me and I’ll tell you if you’re my destiny.’ Nice one, Theron.” Still chuckling to herself, she eased out of his grip and resumed walking.
“I didn’t think it was so funny,” Theron mumbled at her back.
“You can’t be serious,” she said, waving her hands out to the sides as she walked. “That’s like the lamest thing I’ve ever heard. And I worked in a strip club, for crying out loud. I’ve heard some pretty sad come-ons!”
“Why were you there?” he asked, her comment bringing up a question he’d wondered about several times.
“Why does anyone work in a strip club? The money’s good.”
“I thought your family owned that bookstore?”
A sigh of regret slipped from her mouth, and he knew she was remembering the fire and what she’d lost. “My grandmother’s hospital bills were pretty nasty. I had to work two jobs to make ends meet.”
“About that club. Did you…? Were you…?”
“Was I what, Theron?”
The humor in her voice only aggravated him more. He stopped on the path, unsure how to voice his question. “How much money did you make?”
She stopped as well, turned his way and tapped her finger against her cheek in a thoughtful move. “Well, that depends. You know, in a place like XScream, a woman’s pay is based on job performance, and I was good. Very, very good at what I did.” A wicked smile slid across her tempting lips. “Just ask Nick.”
A spear of jealousy stabbed him in the gut.
But Argonauts didn’t get jealous. Only humans did.
And then she smiled. A grin laced with pure victory and female delight. She was playing him. And enjoying it.
“You weren’t a dancer.” His eyes ran over her svelte body, and the relief that rushed through him was swift and consuming. “I can’t see you taking your clothes off for strange men for any amount of money.”
She only rolled her eyes and resumed walking. “I did it for you, didn’t I? And for free, no less. And you’re the biggest stranger of them all.”
“Acacia.” He gripped her arm again, stopping her. As he turned her his way, a voice in his head screamed, Keep your mouth shut, but he couldn’t. “Three thousand years ago, when Zeus set aside Argolea for our race, Hera played her cruelest practical joke.”
“Zeus’s wife? Why would she care about you and your race?”
“She hated Heracles. For a variety of reasons, but mostly because he was one more of Zeus’s blatant infidelities. And because of Zeus’s affection for the heroes as a whole, she likewise hated the Argonauts. What better way to get back at all of us than by convincing the Fates to make sure we are never happy?”
“What do you mean?”
“The Argonauts, every one of them, me included, were given one soul mate. Just one. And it’s always the last person they would ever choose. Most Argonauts go their entire lives without finding theirs. Since I met you, all the signs point to you being mine.”
“What signs?”
Don’t tell her.
He glanced around the forest again, remembering that being out in the open like this wasn’t safe, but unable to let this subject drop. “The attraction between us, for one. The sexual heat.” Her cheeks blushed again, encouraging him. “The fact that even when I thought you were human, I recognized something unique and alluring in you I’d not recognized in another.”
“You’re not wild about my being human, are you?”
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
She looked at his chest, then up to his eyes, and if he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment, she masked it well. “Just how many women do you have to sleep with to find this soul mate?”
He recognized her sarcasm, and knew he was dancing perilously close to the edge with her. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, it’s not?” she asked innocently. “Then that means you don’t want to have sex with me?”
He eased closer and dropped his voice. “I want very much to be with you, you know that. You can see it in my eyes.”
“To see if I’m your soul mate,” she said plainly.
“Yes.” Her eyes flashed. “No,” he corrected. Good gods, she was trying to trap him in a lie. “I want to lay with you because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way you feel and taste since that night in your house.”
She tipped her head. “And an eager and willing captive is so much more appealing than a combative one.”
“Acacia—”
“You know what, Theron? Don’t even try to dig yourself out of this one.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Nice try, though. I’m sure it works on some women. Just not me.” She marched up the path with a smug sway of her hips.
As she moved away, Theron cursed under his breath and berated himself for being so stupid. Why in the name of Zeus had he told her about the soul mates? She’d never understand the importance or the fact the Argonauts as a whole were seemingly immune to tapping into their humanity, which was Hera’s original plan. Even if they did, the fact the goddess had made sure their other half was the exact opposite of what they wanted was a guarantee of disaster. And an Argonaut who’d found his soul mate and then lost her? He might as well just open a vein and bleed out all over the floor. Because that’s what it would be like. Nothing left inside him. Theron knew that was true from watching his kinsman Zander these past ten years. And it wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience.
Of course, Acacia would never get that. Hell, she hadn’t even fully accepted who and what she was. And then he’d gone and told her he’d know if they were destined to be together by screwing her? Yeah. All things considered, he was lucky she hadn’t hauled back and nailed him in the nuts for that suggestion.
He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he didn’t realize Acacia had picked up her pace until she rounded the bend and disappeared from sight. A tingle spread down his spine as he jogged to catch up with her. As he turned the corner, he discovered the forest opened into a clearing and what had once been a small settlement.
Had been, he realized, because all that was left now were a few burned-out buildings, half walls and foundations supporting blackened beams and broken windows.
Acacia stood at the edge of the village, her eyes taking in the entire scene as he stepped up to her. “This was where it happened,” she said, lifting a thin arm and pointing toward what was left of a house, three buildings in. “That was hers.”
The settlement was nestled into a valley. Mountains rose on three sides, and a creek meandered along the edge of town, bubbling and gurgling in the warming air. “They struck from the mountains. The villagers didn’t even have time to react.”
Theron turned in her direction only to falter at the pain he saw etched deeply into her face. Once again he was awed by her strength and resolve. By her loyalty to a people she’d just discovered and the ease with which she pitched in to help. And through all that, he realized if she turned out not to be his soul mate, he’d be hard-pressed to find another gynaíka who intrigued and mystified him the way she did.
He looked out over the burned homes and imagined what the half-breed families must have gone through during that vicious attack. Daemons were not known for mercy. And the king had been aware of their struggle for eons.
His chest tightened. Back at the colony, he’d been able to convince himself the problems of the Misos were not his to bear. But standing here, staring at the destruction, all he could think was We could have done something.
“Acacia, I—”
“Shh.” She placed her hand against his chest, and the skin beneath his shirt tingled with awareness from just the slightest touch. “Did you hear that?”
He listened, hearing nothing but the wind whistling through the ominous Douglas firs. The air was warm, so he knew she couldn’t have heard a pack of daemons. “I don’t hear anything.”
“That.”
He turned his head to listen closely. And heard the slightest sound. “That’s—”
“A voice,” she said, excitement building in her words.
“Acacia, wait—”
But she didn’t listen. She took off at a slow jog toward the only intact building in the settlement. An old barn that sat at the far end of town with a rope from the second-floor loft blowing gently in the breeze.
“Marissa?” Acacia called. “Honey, answer me if that’s you. It’s Casey. Marissa? We’re all worried about you.”
Silence.
Theron caught up with her just as she stepped inside the dark barn. He grasped her upper arm and leaned close to her ear. “Stay close to me. On this we don’t negotiate.”
She nodded and let him take the lead, but she continued to call out to Marissa, and he didn’t stop her because he hoped the child would respond to her voice.
“Marissa?” she called again. “We’ve walked a long way to find you. There are a lot of people worried about you, honey. Don’t be scared, sweetie. But you have to tell us where you are.”
A shuffling sound echoed from above. Acacia put her hand on Theron to stop him. She nodded toward the ceiling and they both glanced up.
A ladder to the left looked as though it led to the second floor. Theron placed a hand and foot on the cracked rails and prayed they’d hold his weight. Just as he was about to step on the first rung, they heard a small voice from above.
“Casey, is that you?”
Acacia let out a long, relieved breath. “Yes, honey. It’s me.”
“Are you alone?”
The two shared a glance, and Theron shook his head, afraid if the youngling knew he was there, it might scare her into retreating again, but Acacia ignored his warning. “No, Marissa. I’m not alone. Theron’s here with me.”
“He is?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Theron looked up and listened closely for any movement that indicated Marissa was getting ready to bolt.
“In that case,” Marissa said in that same soft voice, “you can both come up and have tea with me and Minnie.”
Acacia’s smile touched Theron somewhere deep in his chest, and as he climbed the rickety ladder, he felt lighter. More at peace than he’d been in…forever.
And he had a sinking suspicion it was because of Acacia.
It was brighter upstairs. Sunshine flooded the second floor from an opening at the end of the loft. Theron waited while Acacia climbed the ladder. Across the floor, Marissa smiled and waved to him as if they were two old friends meeting at the park. She was sitting on a bale of hay. Her doll, Minnie, was next to her. An overturned crate served as the table, and on the other side was another bale of hay. A tiny chipped tea set was set out in front of each place.
Acacia went to her knees in front of Marissa and pulled the girl into her arms. “That wasn’t a smart thing to do, Marissa. Your mother’s worried sick about you. So’s everyone back at the colony.”
“But I’m fine.”
Acacia pushed the girl to arm’s length. “Honey, you know it’s dangerous to be out like this.”
Marissa rolled her big brown eye. “Nothing will happen to the others.”
“How do you know? People are out looking for you right now.”
“I know because Minnie showed me.”
Acacia glanced up at Theron, standing off to the side, then over at Marissa’s doll. “Showed you what?”
“The little woman in the long robes with the pretty thread. She said you’d both come to find me if I came here.” At Acacia’s perplexed expression, Marissa leaned in close and whispered none too quietly, “Don’t you see? I had to do it so you two could have more time alone together.”
Acacia’s eyes grew wary. “What do you mean?”
Theron held his breath and sensed he knew the answer even before the words were spoken. Was this another sign? Or a child’s overactive imagination?
Marissa smiled a beaming, child’s grin. “You’ll see.”
The air chilled, and the hair on the back of Theron’s neck stood up before he could question the child in depth. Destiny forgotten, he edged toward the opening of the loft that looked down over the burned village. Then cursed long and low.
“Marissa,” Acacia said in a forceful voice. “Did Theron put you up to this?”
Theron moved as quickly and quietly as he could across the floor and grasped Acacia by the arm, pulling her up to his side. “We have a problem,” he said quietly into her ear.
She looked over with irritated eyes. “What now?”
“Three daemons. They look to be on patrol.” Acacia’s face went ashen. “My guess is they watch this area for stragglers in the hopes they may lead them to the colony.”
“Oh, shit,” she whispered.
“Acacia,” he said brusquely as she trembled against him. “Stay with me.” Wide violet eyes met his, but there was fear there—lots of it—as she obviously remembered their last run-in with Atalanta’s henchmen.
Dammit, this was what he’d been afraid of the moment she set out on this stupid quest. “I can handle the daemons. But you have to get Marissa to safety.”
She glanced right and left. “All three? You can’t…Back at the store—”
“I can,” he said quickly. “At the store I was worried about you. Trust me. I know what I’m doing. But only if we work together.”
“Oh, God.” When she sagged against him, he knew he was losing her.
He tightened his arm around her waist while listening intently to what was happening outside. The daemons were moving closer. He was running out of time. “You have to pull it together right now, because I want to hear all the other reasons you’re not really attracted to me.”
She looked up, swallowed hard. And as their eyes met, the connection they’d shared from the first flared deep in his soul. He knew she felt it too. Just as he knew if something happened to her here, he would never be the same.
She nodded once, twice, and pulled her courage up like a suit of armor. “I…I’m not attracted to you.” But she gripped his shirt at the chest and didn’t make any move to let go.
“Liar,” he whispered, just before dipping his head and taking her mouth.
The kiss was fast, and not nearly as deep as he wanted. But they didn’t have time for anything more.
He pulled the spiked dagger knife from his ankle, unsnapped the holster and attached it to her calf. Then he opened the weapon that was shaped like a bowie knife with menacing spikes sticking out of the underside of the handle. “Take this. Hold it here.” He positioned her fingers. “If any get past me, this won’t do you any good unless they get close. Swing like this. Away from your body.” He moved her arm to show her what he meant. “The spikes tear up the flesh and the blade does the rest. It won’t kill a daemon, but a good solid hit will incapacitate one long enough for you to get away.”
“Theron, I—”
“We don’t have time.” He shoved a penlight into her pocket, then grabbed Marissa and pushed her toward Casey. “Wait until you see me out front, then take the back ladder and head for the mountain across the stream. Try to find a cave or shelter to hide in. I’ll find you after.”
Shaking, Acacia slid the knife into its holster, lifted a frightened Marissa into her arms and cradled the child against her chest. “But how will you know where we are?”
He crossed the floor and stopped at the edge of the shadows, just out of sight of the daemons below, and took one last look at her. “I’ll always find you, Acacia. That is a promise.”
“Theron—”
He didn’t wait for her response. Instead he stepped off the second floor and landed against the cold earth one story down. All three daemons turned his direction with surprised glowing green eyes.
“Hello, boys,” he said, reaching for the parazonium strapped to the small of his back. “You look a little lost. Let me direct you back to hell.”