Bound (11 page)

The air grew oppressive and claustrophobic. Her mind sputtered, trying to make sense of what had happened. She’d been tricked once before, and look where that had landed her. When he moved to his knees, she stepped back again, careful so he couldn’t touch her.

“Natasa.”

His voice changed. Tensed. Filled with a desperation that only kicked her nerves into high gear. “Wh-what are you doing to me?”

“I’m not doing anything,” he said calmly. Too calmly. He held out a hand. “Natasa, come back to me.”

She didn’t know what to believe, didn’t know whom to trust. He suddenly felt like some glowing, shimmering salvation, and she, more than anyone, knew things that seemed too good to be true usually were. “Who
are
you?”

Unease seeped into his eyes. “You know who I am.”

“No, I don’t.” Panic flooded her voice, and she fought against it but couldn’t keep it away. He was using magic or seduction or
something
unnatural to scramble her brain. “What the hell do you want with me?”

He moved to his feet, pushing to his full height. He was gorgeous in the dim light, half naked with his wavy dark hair loose around his face and those ropes hanging from his wrists. But he was also a threat. There were multiple people searching for her. Numerous beings that wanted her. And because he’d once been nice to her, she’d let down her guard. Assumed he could be trusted. Assumed—foolishly—he wasn’t after the very same thing.

Panic turned to fear. She eyed her dagger on the box next to him. Knew she’d never reach it before he did. “Stay back.”

“Natasa, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help you.”

There was that word again—help. The same word he’d used in Argolea just before she’d jumped through the portal. But he didn’t really want to help her. He just wanted what she had.

“I don’t want your help. I told you before I don’t need your help. I—”

The tent flap jerked open, and they both looked toward the burst of light spilling into the room. Two guards stepped into the space and glanced between them—the same two who had tied Titus to the tree.

Relief immediately rushed through Natasa—relief that she and Titus had been interrupted—but then she caught the gleam in the guards’ eyes.

“What’s going on?” Natasa asked. “I told you—”

“Ladies.” Titus turned toward the guards and held up both hands in a defensive move. “Let’s not act hastily now—”

The guards moved up on both sides of him. Malice and heat and triumph swelled in their eyes. The taller of the two said, “The queen is ready for you.”

Titus stiffened, tried to shift out of their grasp, but their hands landed on his arms before he could get a foot away. And the moment they made contact with his skin, his eyes rolled back, his features twisted and his knees gave out.

Natasa tensed. Yeah, she’d wanted him to back off so she could think, but not like this. They were hurting him. If anyone was going to hurt him, it was going to be her.

“Stop,” she ordered. “What are you doing? He’s
my
prisoner, not yours.”

“Not anymore,” the other guard said. A malevolent grin spread across her thin lips. “He’s the queen’s now. And the altar is prepared.”

Oh shit
.

They dragged Titus toward the door. Natasa closed her hand over the shoulder of the closest guard. “I said stop—”

The guard moved so fast, Natasa barely tracked her. One second she was holding Titus up by the arm; the next she had Natasa pinned to the base of the tree, a sword at her throat.

“Aella said you might be a problem,” the guard sneered. “Therefore, you are to remain here, where you can’t get in the way.”

Natasa’s breath caught at the contempt in the guard’s eyes. The guard shoved Natasa’s hands together, cinched a rope around her wrists, and jerked them high over her head. Natasa gasped. The guard looped the rope through the D-ring screwed into the wood and pulled hard.

Pain sliced into Natasa’s skin. She winced. The guard laughed and stepped back.

Lysa—Natasa remembered her name now—tipped her head and grinned. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, female, you are not invited to this ceremony.” She leaned close, so close Natasa could smell the earthy scents of dirt and moss on her unclean skin. “The queen thanks you for your most generous…donation.”

Natasa pulled on the ropes again. “Titus!”

Lysa chuckled, a menacing sound, and moved out of the room. The door flapped closed in her wake.

Alone, Natasa struggled against the ropes, but all her flailing did was cause the twines to dig deeper into her skin. Pain spiraled through her arms, slowing her fight.

Her chest rose and fell. Perspiration slid down her spine. She swallowed hard and tried to think clearly. She’d never witnessed one of Aella’s so called “ceremonies” but she’d heard enough about them—and the males who were the sacrifices—to know what was about to happen.

Sickness rolled through her stomach and was followed by the memory of the way Titus had reacted when those guards had touched him. And how different it was from the way he reacted when she touched him.

She might still be rattled from that kiss, she might be afraid of her reaction to him and what he was really after, but regardless of anything he had or hadn’t done, he didn’t deserve what was about to happen. She’d brought him here. She’d led him to this. If she didn’t do something to stop it, she was no better than the gods who’d cursed her.

She looked up at the rope and pulled hard. Fire ignited along her flesh. But the knots didn’t give. She ground her teeth and pulled again. “Come on!”

Still nothing loosened.

Frustrated, she blew out a deep breath then remembered what she’d done to that guard back in Argolea. The way his armor had melted beneath her palms. She’d never been able to direct what was inside her before, but then the fever hadn’t been as strong as it was now. Maybe there was a way…if she focused hard enough.

She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and let it out. She fought to center herself. Then prayed this worked.

* * *

“Did you hear what I said, son?”

Son
. Zagreus ground his teeth and worked not to lose his temper. The word implied some sort of loving familial relationship, which this most definitely was not. But it wasn’t every day the King of the Underworld paid you a visit. And Zagreus knew better than to piss his dear old dad off first thing. “I really don’t see how this concerns me.”

He also had better things to do than chase after his father’s latest conquest. He moved through the rock archway and into his office, tossing the latest report he’d gotten about those damn nymphs on his desk. A fish swam past the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the underwater view.

Hades stepped up to his desk. “If Zeus and Poseidon find her before we do, it’s going to concern you big-time.”

Zagreus met his father’s black-as-nights eyes. “Look around you,
Pops
. I don’t give a flying fuck what the Olympians do. I’m perfectly happy right here where I’ve always been.”

Hades’s eyes flashed, and a muscle in his temple pulsed. From deep in the caves, a pathetic groan echoed along the rock walls. “How long do you think your little underwater torture tunnels are going to go unnoticed? If someone releases Krónos before we can stop them, the sick son of a bitch will confiscate everything you’ve built and probably set up residence in your humble abode. And if my brothers find the remaining elements before your mother and I do, they’re going to lord it over all of us and likely still come after you. Do you think you’re safe simply because you live in the human realm? You’re not safe,
son
. You’re living on borrowed time.”

Zagreus straightened, and his jaw clenched. What his father said made a sick sort of sense, but he didn’t want to get involved. He’d survived nice and long on his own ignoring the Olympian gods and their petty battles. “What about Atalanta’s daemons? You did take control of her army after she died, didn’t you? Why not just use them to find what you’re after?”

“Because I need the greatest tracker on the planet. And that’s you.”

Smug victory spread through Zagreus. He
was
the greatest tracker. He could find anything. If he had enough time. The problem was, he couldn’t just leave on a whim like he used to be able to do. He had certain…prisoners he didn’t trust to the care of his guards. At least not for any extended length of time. “What is it you want from me?”

“I want you to find Prometheus’s daughter.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

“Besides the ability to keep flying under the radar, doing whatever you damn well please?”

One corner of Zagreus’s lips curled. “Yeah. Besides that.”

Hades studied him, then said, “I’ll tell you where your nymphs ran off to.”

Excitement lurched in Zagreus’s stomach. This could save him weeks of time. “You know exactly where they went?”

“Every single backstabbing one.”

Zagreus’s blood ran hot. And images of how he was going to string those nymphs up, how he was going to torture them and make them pay rushed through his mind. No one left him. No one dared and got away with it.

“How?” he asked skeptically.

“My daemons intercepted a few of the creatures protecting them from you.”

Zagreus tipped his head and considered what his father was offering. This was Hades’s specialty. Making deals, manipulating the outcome. But Zagreus knew his father never offered a deal unless it included something he desperately wanted. The only reason he was here now was because he needed someone who resided in the human realm full-time to do his bidding. The Olympians—and Zagreus’s parents because they ruled the Underworld—operated under restrictions in the human realm, only able to stay roughly twelve hours at any one time. “What about Mommy Dearest?”

“Your mother and I have…an understanding. She wants to find Prometheus’s daughter as much as I do.”

Zagreus huffed. Persephone never did anything unless it was exactly what
she
wanted to do too. “And she’ll stand against the Olympians? Even her father?”

“For me she will.”

Zagreus wasn’t so sure. But then, his parents’ sick and twisted relationship was beyond his comprehension, so what did he know? “And all I have to do is find this female, and my part of the bargain is done.”

“Yes,” Hades answered.

Zagreus pursed his lips. It was asking a lot, considering he’d have to leave his tunnels. But the payoff…

He grew hard just thinking about those nymphs.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But I want the location of my nymphs first. As soon as they’re back in my lair where they belong, I’ll find the female you can’t seem to live without.”

Hades’s eyes flashed. He didn’t like the addendum. But Zagreus wasn’t about to back down. Because if his father had come to him, that meant he was Hades’s last chance at finding the chick. The God-King of the Underworld wouldn’t bother to look sideways at his only son if he didn’t have to.

“Agreed,” Hades said. “But if you double cross me, this” —he gestured to the cenote that made up Zagreus’s lair— “will be the least of what comes crashing down around you. Your nymphs are in the Amazon tree city of Antiope, in the redwoods on the northern coast of California.”

A wicked grin rushed across Zagreus’s face. “Amazons, you say? I haven’t had an Amazon in quite some time.”

“Try not to go hog wild.” Hades turned for the door. “And don’t forget to bring me Prometheus’s daughter, or you will regret it.”

* * *

Titus’s head swam.

He was aware of someone dragging him, of hands closed tight over his arms tugging hard. But he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t focus on even one watery object rushing by. The emotions bombarding him from every side were too strong—greed, anger, lust. A helluva lot of lust that wasn’t turning him on in the least.

He was dragged up some kind of stairs; then the guards swung him around and pressed him back against a cold, rock surface. Before he could make sense of his surroundings, his arms were jerked away from his body. Shackles closed over his wrists. His legs were pushed apart and strapped to something solid.

The guards stepped back. The emotional transfer slowly faded, and, weak from the impact, Titus drew a shaky breath, then stiffened when his vision cleared and he caught sight of the faces around him.

Dozens of Amazons and nymphs, all looking on with excitement and curiosity. He was on some kind of stage. In the darkness, torches alive with flickering flames illuminated the space. And somewhere close, drums beat a steady rhythm while voices echoed a chant he couldn’t make out.

Okay, this was not looking good. He tugged against the restrains, but was too weak to make them budge.
Shit
. This was not the fantasy he’d been daydreaming about. Had he made a crack about these warriors being girls? He was suddenly wishing he hadn’t been so cocky when Natasa had tried to warn him.

Natasa
…

Skata
, where was she? He couldn’t remember what had happened after those guards had come into her tent. Worry gathered beneath his ribs. His gaze raked the crowd, searching for her in the sea of faces.

The chanting grew louder. The crowd parted, and then he saw her. Not Natasa, but a tall, slender female dressed in a flowing green robe with an ornate golden headdress decorated in multicolored feathers. Jewels dripped from her ears and throat and wrists and fingers, and desire burned in her eyes as she drew close.

Titus swallowed hard. He recognized those eyes.

The Queen of the Amazons.

He tugged against his bindings—harder. But her heated gaze didn’t waver. It was fixed solely on him.

Fuck…
me
. This was not good. Not by a long shot.

The queen moved up the stairs. The drums beat faster. The air grew thick and constrictive. She stopped in front of him, closed her hands over the lapels of her robe, and tugged. The garment fell in a pool at her feet, leaving her dressed in nothing but jewels.

Holy Hades. Titus couldn’t help but stare. She was butt-ass naked. And yeah, unlike her warriors, she was gorgeous and totally built, with the mark of the Amazons, a crescent moon, tattooed over her right breast. But she wasn’t the female he wanted. And he was seriously
not
interested.