Marked

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

One thing Isadora could say about Orpheus. The ándras knew things no one else did. Like where the gods hung out and how to breach their inner sanctum.

“I can’t go in with you,” Orpheus said as he pulled the hood of his black cape over his head to hide his face. “The cloak only works for one, and no way in hell I’m getting trapped on Olympus. Zeus has called one of his blitheringly boring summit meetings, so the gods will all be congregated in his temple, no doubt falling over themselves in an attempt to impress the pompous POS. You know the difference between a brownnoser and a shit-head, right, Isa?”

Isadora frowned.

“Depth perception.” Orpheus chuckled at his own joke.

“What about Persephone?” Isadora asked, trying to refocus him.

His cocky grin faded. “She’ll be where I told you.”

“How can you know for certain? Maybe she—”

“Trust me. She’ll be there. Any time she can get away from her mother, she heads for the trees. There’s more to destroy there.”

Trusting Orpheus went against everything in Isadora’s gut. But she didn’t have another choice. She was out of options, and if this didn’t work…

She ignored the sickness brewing in her belly and lifted her chin. “Where will you be?”

“Hiding out here, like the lower life-form I am.” He glared at her from beneath the hood. “You screw this up, Isa, and we’re both fucked.”

She nodded once. “I won’t.”

On one more deep breath, which didn’t do a thing for her tummy, she pulled the hood over her head and turned for the gates that granted access to Mount Olympus. For the love of all things holy, she was about to walk on hallowed ground.

Okay, correction. For her sake, she sure hoped good ol’ Zeus didn’t catch wind she was here. The god was not known for understanding, and his temper was worse than all seven of the Argonauts put together, on a bad day.

She held her breath as she walked cautiously up to the gates. When neither sentry looked in her direction, she realized they couldn’t see her. Orpheus’s invisibility cloak was working. Confidence growing, she slipped past the guards without even a glance and paused at the base of the winding road toward the temples.

Please let Orpheus be telling the truth…

She turned left instead of heading up the road and followed a low stone fence past wheat fields and olive orchards, until she came to the forest. Large trees she didn’t know how to name towered above, blocking out the sunlight. Low brush and trailing vines littered the ground.

She walked a quarter mile in the dim light before she noticed the shrubs and plants around her looked sickly and wilted. As she delved deeper into the forest, the ground became black, looked almost burned, and what little plant life was left was withered and dry.

Humming from ahead brought her feet to a halt, and she peered through the blackened tree trunks toward a small pond. Around the edge, the grass was brown and brittle. Even the tree branches protruding over the once-green oasis were drooped and void of leaves. A great sadness radiated from the space. And in the center of the pond, hovering inches above the surface, lay Persephone, floating on her back. But the only parts of her body touching the water were her fingers as they splayed over the surface of the pond.

Even reclined and in a state of miserable relaxation, she looked like a regal queen. The Queen of the Underworld. The queen of death and destruction. Which was exactly what she was.

Isadora’s nerves kicked up. She glanced back the way she’d come as worry and self-doubt raced down her spine. She had the goddess alone. Just like she’d wanted. But suddenly her tongue was thick and her throat was bone-dry.

Persephone’s hair was dark, her body lithe and graceful. She looked like a siren, but a thousand times stronger and a million time more dangerous. And she was way more intimidating than Isadora had expected.

“I wondered how long it would take you to get here.”

Isadora froze. Glanced around again. The goddess couldn’t possibly be speaking to her, could she?

“Of course I’m talking to you,” Persephone said, turning her head and pinning Isadora with deep green eyes the color of an Irish field. “Do you think I don’t know what you and your half-daemon friend are up to? You were only permitted to pass the gates of Olympus because I figure anyone as desperate as you deserves to be heard. And because your anxiety amuses me.” She heaved out a long sigh. “I do so get bored here.”

Isadora opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Not so desperate now, I see.” Persephone looked back up to the sky. “And here I thought this was going to be interesting. Apparently you lack the panache of your father.”

“M-My father?” Oh, good one, Isa. Way to get right to the point.

“It’s been twenty-seven years since King Leonidas stood where you stand now. Asking very nearly the same thing.”

Suddenly, getting to the point didn’t seem so important after all. “Wait. My father came to you?”

Persephone’s irritated eyes darted to Isadora. “Did I not just say that? Keep up, girl.”

As far as Isadora knew, her father hated the interventions of the gods. In fact, he’d do just about anything to keep them from meddling in Argolean affairs. “Why did my father come here?”

Persephone huffed and lifted a hand to let water drip off her long, elegant fingers. “To ask me to use my influence on Hades. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Wow. News flash.

“Yes,” Isadora said, stunned. “But I still don’t understand why my father would intervene.”

Persephone rolled her eyes and recited in a dull monotone: “There shall be two in every era, born of god and earth and men. One of strength and one of courage, two separate halves to bring the end. And they shall be known by the markings they bear, united in the twenty-seventh year. Only joined will the strong survive, to dissolve the pact and bring the end to life.”

A ghostly smile curled Persephone’s lips. “Morbid, isn’t it? But that’s my husband for you. Although that wasn’t the original text. Originally it said, ‘…united in the coming year.’ King Leonidas came here to ask me to barter for the addition of those twenty-seven years.”

At what Isadora knew was her perplexed expression, Persephone huffed and added, “In the past, Atalanta’s daemons were always able to locate the human half of that equation, thereby keeping the prophecy from coming true.”

Isadora’s stomach rolled. “He bartered to keep her alive just so she could die later?”

“All for the greater good.” Persephone’s brow wrinkled. “Don’t tell me you’re a bleeding heart for humans. They’re so…lower class.”

“She’s not just a human. She’s…my sister.”

“That’s just biology.”

At that moment, Isadora knew this goddess wasn’t going to help her. She forgot about strategy and spoke from her heart. “No, I don’t believe in sacrificing one for the good of many. Unlike you and the other gods up here in never-never land, I don’t view them as chess pieces to be placed at my whim. My father is a coward and a liar, and my coming here was very obviously a mistake.” She turned on her heel.

“Very good, Princess.” The laughter in Persephone’s words stopped Isadora’s feet. “You may just make an adequate queen, after all.”

Isadora glared over her shoulder at the goddess, who was now standing upright but still hovering over the water. “I’m so glad you approve.” Not.

She was just about to leave again when Persephone suddenly appeared in her path, looking—now—very much the queen she was. “I said, ‘may.’ Not ‘will.’ A lot depends on what you do next.” She tipped her head. “I believe I will grant you audience with Hades. I’ll even take you there.”

Persephone’s eyes sparkled at the excuse to see her husband again. Around them, the pond and forest burst to life, the colors and fragrances overwhelming the senses. And Isadora caught her breath at what was being offered to her for reasons she didn’t quite understand. “But of course, nothing is free, and we haven’t discussed the issue of payment yet.”

“I don’t have anything—”

“I want your gift of foresight.”

“But I—”

“Don’t have it? Not right now you don’t, but it will return. And when it does, I want it. For one month.”

Isadora’s eyebrows drew together. “But you’re a goddess. Certainly you don’t need something as simple as my power.”

Persephone shrugged in a nonchalant way, but Isadora could tell this meant a great deal to her. “Curse of the gods. Supreme cosmic power but no way to look into the future. None of the gods can. Free will and all that crap. But to be able to see ahead, whatever I choose?” Her eyes shone with a devious light. “That would elevate me to the plane of Zeus.”

A chill slid down Isadora’s spine. “But my powers don’t work that way. I can’t choose which events I see. And though I have glimpses of the future, I don’t know when the events will happen.”

Persephone’s eyes flared to a glowing jade, and malicious intent slid across her perfect features. “Don’t bother yourself with that, Princess. Your powers in my hands will be quite different. I guarantee it.”

Dread welled in Isadora’s stomach. Would it be wise to grant the Queen of the Underworld such power? Just what did the goddess plan to do with it anyway?

“Choose now. Your sister’s life for one month. I grow bored with this conversation.”

One month. Nothing bad could happen in one month, could it? Isadora hoped not, but in the end what the gods did was of little concern to her. Her world was far removed. And her sister’s life and the lives of many Argoleans hung in the balance.

She lifted her chin and pushed the fear at what she was about to do out of her head. “Take me to Hades.”

“No sweeter words were ever spoken.” A wicked smile slid across Persephone’s face as she held out her hand. “As you wish, my dying little queen-to-be.”

“Do you still have the weapon I gave you?”

Casey’s adrenaline spiked. She watched a horde of daemons rush out of the trees on the far side of the clearing and charge the circle of mourners.

“Acacia!” Theron pulled his dagger with the thick blade from his back and glanced up at the canopy.

Fear clogged Casey’s throat as screams and fighting erupted in the clearing, but somehow she had the presence of mind to nod. She made sure the blade was still strapped to her calf where she’d put it this morning.

“Can you climb?”

“Climb? What—?”

He looked up again. “I’ll boost you up. Get as high in the trees as you can. Anything comes up after you, scream. Loud.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” He was developing a sense of humor now?

He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and forced her to grab the first branch in the old-growth Douglas fir. “As high as you can, Acacia. Only use the weapon if you have to, and scream as loud as you can. I’ll be right here.”

He was leaving her?

“Wait.” Frantic, she grasped his arm even as he pushed her higher into the tree, and she had no choice but to grab on or fall. “Theron—”

He clasped her hand and locked his eyes with hers until it felt as if he was seeing the darkest place of her soul. Her breath caught at the intensity of his gaze. “I won’t let anything happen to you, meli. Marissa was wrong. I will never let anything happen to you. Tell me you believe me.”

She nodded slowly and whispered, “I believe you.”

His eyes searched hers one last second before he nodded upward. “Go. Now.”

Casey hesitated only a moment to watch Theron charge into the battle happening in the clearing. He was all hulking muscle and deadly intent, joining Nick, who, along with a few other men from the colony, was beating back the dozen or so daemons who’d converged on what she could tell was a funeral.

God, Dana.

Weapons clashed with fangs and claws. Shouts and cries mixed with snarled grunts as fists met bone. When Theron was tossed to his back and a daemon charged for him, Casey slammed her eyes shut and shifted to look away.

Heart in her throat, she reached up and grabbed the next branch. Her hands shook as she climbed, the knife Theron had given her a solid weight pressed against her leg.

Please God, don’t let it slip and fall out.

She wasn’t fond of heights and she felt like a fool hiding out in this tree when people were possibly dying below, but if those monsters were here for her, she wasn’t stupid enough to hang out in the open.

Her hands burned as bark scraped her palms raw. She groaned at the ache in her arms as she climbed higher and told herself if she came through this alive—and Dr. Jill found a cure for whatever was wrong with her—she was definitely starting that workout program she’d been putting off for far too long. The sounds of the battle drifted up to her, but she blocked them out, tried not to listen for Theron’s voice. One thing, however, got through. A feral growling coming from the base of the tree.

She froze. Hoped she blended into the limbs. And prayed she was imagining things.

The growling grew louder. And then the entire tree began to shake.

Casey shrieked. Her fingers closed around a branch just as she lost her footing.

“There’s nowhere for you to go, half-breed,” the daemon below snarled. “Come down.”

Casey flailed out with her feet and finally found a thin branch that bent slightly under her weight. She pushed herself higher as her adrenaline spiked. A few more feet to that thicker branch above and she could let go with one hand and grab the knife.

“Come down!” the beast thundered.

“Fuck you!”

With a ferocious roar the daemon grabbed the trunk of the tree and shook violently. Casey screeched as the branch she’d been standing on snapped. Bark abraded her palms. Her fingernails dug into wood, sending slivers deep into her skin as she hung on with all her strength. Her body was thrown right and left as the tree bowed under the great force jerking it back and forth.

And then the unthinkable happened. The knife slipped out of its holster. Frantic, she tried to catch it with her shoe, but it was too late. Her only weapon fell free just as her hands slipped a fraction of an inch on the branch above.

The daemon saw her falter. And the SOB actually laughed.

Oh, shit.

Sweat broke out on her forehead. She was going to fall. She was sixty feet up, with no weapon and no one to save her. If, that is, she survived the drop.

Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit.

“Theron!”

The branch she was holding snapped like a twig. And then all she felt was air.

Hades wasn’t alone. He’d know that damn flower scent anywhere.

His head jerked up, and he leapt off his throne so fast he nearly tripped down the five marble stone steps. He made it as far as the archway before the double wood doors were thrown open and Persephone flung herself into his arms.

“My sweet,” he crooned, gathering her close and kissing her hard. Her hands flew to his face, her mouth was possessive against his, warming the coldest space inside him. “Missed you…so.”

She groaned against him, frantic as her hands ran under his shirt and across his skin. “My, god.”

He chuckled and turned her around, pushing her back toward his throne and the solid stone table just to the left he knew she liked so very much. “I am. All yours. Now tell me how you got away from the wicked bitch of the west.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled back and chuckled to herself while he kissed her throat. “Don’t talk about my mother like that. You know I don’t like it when you take that tone.”

Since she sounded anything but upset, he licked the column of her neck, slid his hands around to her ass and lifted her so he could get her to the table as fast as possible.

“Hades, wait. We have business first.”

“Business?” And that’s when he noticed the slight creature standing in the corner of the room, just inside the door. He dropped his queen to her feet and whirled back around. “She’s human.”

“Argolean,” Persephone said, placing one of her delicate hands on his chest. “Future Queen of Argolea, actually.”

Oh, now this was interesting.

He looked down at the slight gynaíka with her big brown eyes and nearly white hair. He could tell she was sick, but she held an air of authority that intrigued him. One he doubted she was even aware of. “Come in,” he barked.

She hesitated, then cautiously stepped forward.

In the light she wasn’t simply beautiful, she was magnificent, and he knew interest flared in his eyes before he could stop it. Persephone saw it too. She punched him hard in the stomach and glared at him. “Not her. And not when I’m standing here, you jackass, or I’ll make you both sorry.”

Hades coughed and rubbed a hand over his abdomen, then laughed when he saw the gynaíka’s frightened eyes dart between him and his queen. “She’s too small. I’m pretty sure I’d split her in two. Besides, I gave up virgins last year.” He looked back at his wife. “Really, Persephone, if you were going to bring me a treat—”

Persephone socked him again, and he doubled over, laughing twice as hard. She was the only creature in the world allowed to raise a hand to him, and he loved every moment of it.

Persephone’s eyes flashed. “Pull your head out of your pants for ten seconds. She’s here about the pact.”

That got his attention. “My pact?”

“Is there any other?”

A wicked smile slid across his mouth. “Oh, now this is interesting. What is it you want, little queen?”

The gynaíka took two steps closer, then stopped. Fear flashed in her eyes, but she lifted her chin, looking every bit the regal queen she could become. “I—I ask that your pact be broken. Or at the very least, postponed.”

He lifted one eyebrow as he drew his queen to his side, amused at the Argolean’s audacity. “And why should I do that?”

“Because…” The gynaíka swallowed. “Because I’m one half of the prophecy.”

Well, duh. He’d already figured that out, but he was intrigued enough to hear the rest of what she had to say. “And the other half?”

“My sister.”

“And let me guess,” he said, slowly running his hand up and down Persephone’s spine. “You’ve come to ask me to spare the human’s life.”

“She’s not just a human. She’s a Misos.”

“Even better.” Hades scoffed. “Useless. I don’t know why your kind can’t keep their pants zipped.” Persephone punched him in the arm. His head swiveled in her direction. “Do that once more, wife, and I’ll make you pay.”

Desire lit her eyes. “Promise?”

He growled low in his throat and leaned in to take her mouth again.

The Argolean’s coughing brought his head up in irritation. He pinned the exasperating creature with a look. “Why in all that is evil in my realm are you still here?”

“Hades,” Persephone warned.

He sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting inside his queen until he appeased her and dealt with this situation first. “Very well. You do realize the ramifications of this, correct?”

The gynaíka nodded.

“And you realize that by interfering, you set events into motion that cannot be undone?”

The gynaíka hesitated, looked between them and nodded again.

Hades shrugged. “Fine. Your human’s life is spared.” The gynaíka breathed out a sigh of relief. “But not without a price.”

“But Persephone said—”

He nuzzled his queen’s jaw. “What ever bargain you struck with my conniving wife is between the two of you. I still require payment. One soul. Yours or hers. I don’t care which.”

“Now?”

“Now could be interesting,” he said, smiling down at his wife, “but the time isn’t of my choosing.”

The gynaíka looked as if she would be ill. Which pleased him. It very much pleased him.

“Well?” he asked. “What do you say?”

She glanced at her hands, seemed to struggle with some internal debate, then closed her eyes. “Mine,” she whispered.

His laughter bubbled up from the depths of his soul as his eyes ran up and down her slight and very feminine body. Oh, what he would enjoy doing to her, with Persephone’s approval or not.

“Make yourself comfortable, little queen.” His hand slid down to Persephone’s ass. “The show’s about to begin.”

The gynaíka’s eyes snapped open, and shock registered in her fine features, igniting a whole new set of bargains in his head. Ones that involved not only him, but his wife as well. “I’m not going home?”

“Not yet.” Hades’s smile widened. Catching on, Persephone’s did too. “Not yet. Not until we’re both done with you.”