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  “Here, baby, drink this.” He grasped the canteen they’d lifted before running from the Amazon city and brought it to her lips. She grunted, tried to push it away, but he forced her to drink. Licking her lips, she leaned back against the rocks and sighed again, never once opening her eyes.

  “I’m gonna get help, ligos Vesuvius. Don’t worry.”

  She didn’t answer. He didn’t expect her to. He set the canteen next to her hand, then gently brushed the hair away from her face, grimacing at how hot she was already. Grabbing her jacket from the ground, he went back to the water, then dunked it in the ice-cold ocean. The frigid garment would make him cringe, but he knew it’d feel like sweet relief to her.

  She sighed when he draped it over her, seeming to melt into the rocks.

  He leaned close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. And felt his heart take a nosedive into an ocean he was starting to think he might never be able to swim free from. “I’ll be back. Dream of me.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Daemon attacks are down in the area since Atalanta’s death,” Helene said as she sat in front of Nick’s desk in his office at the colony and made marks on her trusty clipboard. “But Kellen reported this morning that a new pack was sighted outside Whitefish. And we’re hearing word of attacks at small outposts deeper in the Rockies.”

  Nick had never expected his mother’s beasts to stop their hunt for blood simply because she was now dead. But he’d hoped for it, even if he’d never said so aloud. He studied the report Kellen, one of his best scouts, had generated. “Send a unit to the Whitefish area to check for signs. And another to scour the acres south of the lake.”

  Helene nodded, her shoulder-length, light brown hair falling over her face as she looked down at her notes and made another mark. The movement dragged his attention away from his own papers, and he watched with detached interest as she brushed the lock back and tucked it behind her ear.

  Her jaw was strong, her skin creamy, her features feminine and attractive. She’d been his go-to person for the last two years, had been instrumental when they’d relocated the colony here from Oregon, and was probably the closest thing he had to a friend. And yet he knew virtually nothing personal about her. Not about what she did after she left him for the day or who she hung out with or even how she’d lost her leg as a child.

  “There’s one more thing,” she said.

  She lifted her head, and her eyes widened when she realized he was watching her. A blush spread across her cheeks. A blush that told him she was aware of him on a level he should be aware of her. And yet, even with that knowledge, he felt nothing inside. Nothing but anger over the fact the gods had cursed him more than any other. Ever since he’d learned Isadora had fallen for his brother, he hadn’t been able to get it up for any female. Even one as sexy, available, and interested as the one sitting right in front of him.

  She quickly glanced back down again and made a mark on her paper. Her cheeks turned pinker. “Um…the therillium supply will need to be replenished soon. You’ve been so busy with the scouts and the celebration in Argolea, I was thinking it might be time to pass that job on to someone else.”

  Nick’s jaw clenched at the memory of that celebration, and his back tingled at the thought of what lived beneath the colony. “No one else goes into the mines. End of subject. And I don’t want it brought up again.”

  Helene’s gaze snapped to his. Questions brewed in her dark eyes, but she didn’t ask them.

  After a long pause, she sighed, then looked back down at her notes. “I guess that’s about it.”

  She pushed to her feet, and guilt slithered through Nick at the disappointment showing on her face. Guilt that he wasn’t what she wanted him to be. That he couldn’t be more. Followed by another shot of anger that whipped and burned through every inch of his veins.

  He was tired of doing and being and having others depend on him. Exhausted from the duties and responsibilities of running the colony and being the person everyone turned to in a crisis. He was on a circular path that seemed to have no end. And now, thanks to his inability to restrain his temper, he’d done something he shouldn’t have. Which meant the one tiny piece of joy he had in his life—seeing his soul mate now and then even if she’d never truly be his—was gone.

  His mood darkened. As if on autopilot, he rose from his seat and followed Helene toward the door. Her limp was less visible these days, the new prosthetic obviously working better than the last. He wanted to ask about it. Knew he should say something to clear the air but couldn’t find the words. Didn’t even know if he wanted to.

  She pulled the door open, then drew up short.

  Kellen’s tanned face filled the doorway. “Helene.” He looked past her and focused on Nick. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Always a problem. Always another fucking problem.

  Nick tamped down the resentment. “What’s happened?”

  “We got a call on the satellite line. One of the Argonauts is stranded and requesting help.”

  Nick’s jaw clenched. Let it be Demetrius. He was in the mood for a good bloodletting. At the moment, it was the only thing he could think of that might improve his mood. “Which one?”

  “Titus. And he’s not alone. The redhead? The one that was here a week or so ago, looking for Maelea? She’s with him.”

  * * *

  She was running. Her feet were bare. The ground dry and covered in a thin layer of dust. Her muscles ached, but she pushed on, the fabric of her dress flapping in the wind around her ankles.

  Breathe. Focus. Draw on the strength inside you.

  Her mother had spoken those words to her. Years ago. So many, Natasa could barely remember when exactly. But her mother’s voice rang in her head. Louder now. So very clear. As if she were right behind her, urging her on.

  The dirt road blurred. And a blast of heat rolled over Natasa, dragging the air from her lungs, flinging her forward with a force that swept her off her feet. She hit the ground with a grunt, landing on her hands and knees. Dirt flew up around her, making her cough. Blinking to rid her eyes of the grit, she looked over her shoulder to see what had hit her. Then gasped as the landscape began to change.

  Her homeland swirled as if made of a magical fog. No more mud huts or pyramids; even the palace on the hill where she lived with her mother had disappeared.

  Rolling over the mountains, a smokeless fire as big as a sandstorm came straight toward her. So hot she could feel its heat burning her skin, even miles away.

  Breathe, Natasa. Focus. Draw on the strength that is inside you. Good or evil, the choice is yours.

  Fear consumed her. She didn’t want to focus. Didn’t care about good or evil. She needed to run.

  She dragged herself to her feet. Pushed her muscles forward with every ounce of strength she had inside her. The fire roared closer. Panic swelled in her chest. Fiery heat licked at her back, igniting the skirt of her dress in flames that crawled up her legs.

  “No!” She swatted at the flames, trying to put them out. She couldn’t stop running. “Help me! Someone!”

  She batted furiously, couldn’t smother them. Panic morphed to bone-melting fear. She tried to rip off her dress. Her fingers got stuck in the folds of fabric. She sobbed and pulled harder. The fire across the hills thundered close. She looked up just as it devoured the tree she’d been reading under. And her eyes grew wide when she realized it wasn’t just a fire. There was a face within the flames. A face that was blowing the blaze all across the land, igniting everything in an unquenchable fire. A face she’d seen in her mother’s drawings.

  The face of her father.

  Her eyes grew wider. Horror whipped like a wind blown straight from the fires of the Underworld.

  She looked up at the sky, and screamed into the burning wind, “Why are you doing this?”

  An eagle screeched high above, swooping overhead. Her gaze followed. The eagle sailed over a man, standing not a hundred feet away. Flames licked at his feet, but he wasn’t b
urning. At least not yet. Her breath caught. Recognition flared.

  Titus…

  Her heartbeat picked up speed. She pushed her feet toward him, grasping her burning skirt. She had to save him. Had to help him…

  Just as she reached him, his face shifted, the nose growing longer, the chin sharper, the hair not dark and shoulder length but short, blond, and sun kissed. And all around him, a cool, blue aura erupted.

  “I can help you. Come to me and live.”

  She heard the voice in her head, but the lips didn’t move. Confusion swamped her. This wasn’t her Titus. This wasn’t what she wanted to be running toward. She knew she needed to go, to flee, but her legs wouldn’t move. A hand extended. A hand bathed in the same blue aura. Not scorching and hot but cool and refreshing, offering her…relief.

  Her heart screamed no, but her mind told her it was the only way. She reached out. Energy flowed from his fingers to hers. A crackle of power across the empty space that told her the face in the blue glow—whoever he was—was more than relief. He was a god. And stronger than any she’d known before.

  “Yes, child. I’m the only one who can stop the flames. I will cool you so you have more time. You have but to promise to give me one tiny thing…”

  * * *

  Titus paced the outer room of the medical clinic in the colony, his jaw twitching as he waited for news.

  The muscles in his chest tightened, and he ran a hand over his sternum to ease the ache. Thankfully, Nick had sent a helicopter to pick them up, but when he’d reached Natasa again, she’d been lying so still against the rocks, for a moment he’d thought she was dead.

  The memory of that—the gut-wrenching fear he’d felt and the way she’d mumbled “No, no, no…don’t take me back to the water,” over and over—was still enough to make him draw in a breath, then let it out slowly in an attempt to regulate his pulse.

  She wasn’t dead. She’d been hotter than hell, but alive. He’d held her close all through the flight back to the colony, and for whatever reason, she’d cooled slightly under his touch, but not enough. Now, as he paced the waiting room, all he could think about was whether or not they’d been too late. Whether or not the infection had spread. Whether or not he was going to lose her so soon after finding her.

  A lump formed in his throat. One he couldn’t swallow. The door behind him opened, but he didn’t turn to look. Couldn’t. He closed his eyes.

  Don’t let her be dead. Please don’t let her be dead.

  “I brought you clothes.”

  Nick. It was Nick.

  Fixing an impassive look on his face, Titus turned. Fresh clothing sat on the chair, and Nick stood in the doorway, his massive arms crossed over his chest, the long sleeves and fingerless gloves covering the ancient Greek text on his forearms and the backs of his hands, just like Titus’s.

  His gaze skipped to the Misos leader’s face. Hard jaw, amber eyes narrowed in speculation, the UV clinic lights above reflecting off his shaved head and highlighting the long, jagged scar on the left side of his face.

  He didn’t seem thrilled to see Titus, but then Nick never seemed thrilled to see anyone. “Thanks.”

  “My men said you ran into some trouble with a tribe of Amazons. And Zagreus.”

  Titus tugged off the seawater-scented coat he was still wearing and reached for the long-sleeved Henley, thankful for something clean. He really wanted to take a shower but couldn’t leave Natasa. “You could say that.”

  “Zagreus is not someone we want to fuck with.”

  Zagreus wasn’t someone the Argonauts wanted to fuck with either. Titus tugged the clean shirt over his head. “He didn’t follow us.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I scouted the area before I called you. Zagreus and his goons were long gone.”

  “What the hell were you doing with a tribe of Amazons?”

  That was a story Titus wasn’t ready to get into yet. He glanced toward the door. “What’s taking so long? I need to see her.”

  Nick turned to look through the empty doorway. “Lena will tell us when there’s news.”

  Titus flexed his fingers and resumed pacing. Worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind, and that fear he’d been fighting came raging back.

  “You look like shit, you know,” Nick said.

  Titus huffed and ran a hand over his head. His hair smelled like the ocean and hung to his shoulders in knotted waves. A rubber band to tie the mess back from his face would be good, but he didn’t even have the urge to go look for one. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine; you look fucked.”

  Titus hesitated midstep, and realized the thought had come from Nick. He’d been alone with Natasa so long, he hadn’t heard another thought in hours. And the shock of it was enough to remind him just how much he needed to be near her again.

  “Look,” Nick said, “As much as it doesn’t overjoy me to do so, I need to alert Theron that you’re both here.”

  Titus jerked around. “Don’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because”—what the hell was he going to say?—“Theron’s distracted with everything happening in Argolea.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Shit, even Titus knew that was a stupid excuse. He scrubbed a hand down his face. Nick was a smart guy, and if Titus lied to him, he’d only run to Theron anyway, to double check his story. His best shot was honesty at this point. Or partial honesty.

  “Theron thinks Natasa’s working for Zagreus. That she was in Argolea to find Maelea for that reason. That’s why I called you for help instead of taking her there.”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Is she?”

  “No. Most definitely not.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  Because he felt it. Deep inside. In a place he’d never felt anything before. But he knew that wouldn’t be enough to convince Nick, so instead, he said, “Because Zagreus came after her too. He wouldn’t have done that if she were working for him.”

  “Unless she changed her mind and was running from him.”

  He’ll come for me. Will think…I failed.

  No, he didn’t believe that. He shook off the thought. She’d been feverish and mumbling those words. They didn’t mean anything. Plus, her working for Zagreus wasn’t a logical explanation, not with everything he knew about her.

  “She wasn’t,” he said firmly.

  Nick tipped his head and studied Titus speculatively. “What is it about her that’s got you in such a knot? It’s more than the fact she’s attractive. I’ve seen you barely glance twice at an attractive female. Why is this one so special?”

  Because she’s mine.

  Another burst of understanding ricocheted through Titus. Holy shit… She was his soul mate. It wasn’t the element drawing him to her; it was a deeper connection, one he’d never expected—never wanted—to find. Until now.

  “I…I don’t know,” he lied. His head felt suddenly light. His skin cold and clammy. He swallowed hard and tried to mask his reaction, but knew he failed…miserably.

  Nick stared at him so long, sweat broke out all over Titus’s skin.

  “You look like you haven’t slept in three days,” Nick finally said.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Fine or not, you look like you’re in over your head.”

  A truer statement had never been uttered. Titus shook it off. “I’ll sleep on a chair in her room. I won’t let her out of my sight. Just do me this one favor—don’t tell Theron and the others we’re here. I promise nothing bad will happen to the colony. As soon as she’s better, we’ll leave.”

  “And go where?”

  Titus didn’t know. He just knew he wasn’t losing her. Not to the gods, not to the Argonauts, and not to some fluke infection. Not when he’d finally found her.

  After several long, tense seconds, Nick turned for the door. “You can stay. For now. Mostly because I don’t feel like dealing with anyone from Argolea. But if any strange
shit happens, you and your chick are out of here. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Grateful, Titus nodded. “Thanks.”

  Nick paused in the doorway. “Don’t thank me yet. I have a knack for fucking things up myself. An hour from now you may be wishing you’d found refuge anywhere but here.”

  His boots echoed down the long corridor, and Titus drew in a breath, then let it out slowly.

  His soul mate… Skata, he should have figured that out sooner.

  He dropped into a chair and rubbed his throbbing temples. The click of shoes from the hallway brought his head up.

  Lena, the colony’s healer, came into the room, her brown ponytail swinging at her back. “Titus?”

  Fear stabbed through his heart. He pushed to his feet. “Yeah.”

  Don’t say she’s dead... Please don’t say she’s dead...

  Lena crossed her arms over the clipboard in her hands and pulled it against her chest. “We were able to close the wound and treat the infection. Her temperature has come down.”

  Relief as sweet as wine whipped through Titus and dragged the strength from his legs. He dropped back into his chair and closed his eyes. Thank you, Dimiourgos.

  “There’s more.”

  Apprehension tightened his chest. He glanced up. “What more?”

  “How did you…?”

  He rose to his feet. “Just answer the question.”

  Lena pursed her lips. “She’s still running a fever above 102. It’s not as bad as it was, but we can’t seem to bring it down. And we can’t find any reason for it either. No other infection, no underlying health problem. It’s like…”

  “Like it’s part of her,” he finished, reading her confused mind.

  She nodded. “Right now she’s stable, but there’s no telling if it will creep back up again. The infection wasn’t nearly as bad as the fever.”