TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7) (26 page)

Argoleans. The six newcomers were definitely Argolean.

Warning bells kicked off in his head. His first thought was of Isadora—which only pissed him off. He was finally at a place where he had something—someone—else to crave, and the soul mate curse was still there, taunting him. Slamming the water off, he stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, only to realize there wasn’t one. His gaze shot through the open bathroom door toward the salon. A towel lay in a heap on the ground.

He grasped his clothes from the floor, crossed to the towel dripping wet, and scooped it up. After drying, he pulled on his jeans, shoved his feet into his boots, and realized Cynna was still wearing his shirt.

Cynna… Shit. Those warning bells turned to full-on flares.

His gaze scanned the salon, but he already knew she was gone. Tuning back in to those senses once more, he searched for her. She was still in the castle. One level down, in the main hall. Hell if he knew how he was able to track her, but he could, and right now he was glad for it.

He moved for the door. Voices—male voices—drifted from the stairwell, followed by Cynna’s curt one.

“No,” she snapped. “I don’t have to tell you anything. And I said, let
go!
”

That darkness surged inside. Nick rounded the corner and looked down the curved and charred staircase. Cynna stood in the archway that led into the main living area, still wearing nothing but his black T-shirt, struggling against Theron’s grip on her upper arm. Several other Argonauts—Titus, Zander, and Gryphon—stood around her, blocking her in.

“Take your hands off her.”

They all turned as one and looked up the staircase toward him. But Theron was the one Nick focused on. And his hold on Cynna’s arm. That darkness leapt and bubbled inside with the prospect of a bloodletting.

“Nick.” Theron released her. “Holy
skata
.”

Cynna jerked her arm away and shot daggers into the back of the leader of the Argonaut’s head. But Nick no longer cared what Theron was doing. His focus shifted to her. To the nervous look in her dark eyes, to the way she wouldn’t meet his gaze, and the fact she was actively searching for somewhere to run.

Away from him.

The reality was like a sharp stab to the solar plexus. Yeah, she didn’t want to be anywhere near the Argonauts—he could feel her animosity growing for them with every passing second—but this need to escape had nothing to do with them and everything to do with him.

That moment, when he’d held her in the salon, ricocheted through his memory. The way she’d tensed, then relaxed, then—reluctantly, now it seemed—agreed to join him in the shower.
 

She was spooked. That was why she’d taken off. That was why she was pissed now. She’d felt the same thing he had upstairs. The same deep connection that wasn’t rooted in a forced and silly soul mate bond but was deeper, more immediate, more…real.

He moved down the stairs, his gaze directly on her, not willing to let her out of his sight now for even a minute. “Are you okay?”

She darted a venomous look toward Titus, standing on her right, then one at Theron again. Still not meeting Nick’s eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m fine.”

Theron’s dark hair swayed as he moved toward the stairs. “When did you get out? Holy
skata
, we’ve been frantically searching for you everywhere.”

Nick ignored the leader of the Argonauts, pushed past him, and reached for Cynna’s elbow. “Don’t take off like that again.”

Her gaze finally swung his way, but her eyes weren’t soft and compassionate as they’d been upstairs. No, now they held a sharp edge. One he’d seen before. In Zagreus’s lair. “I’ll go wherever the hell I want. I’m not your prisoner.”

So they were back to this now…

“Nick,” Theron said at his back. “There are things happening in Argolea that concern you.”

“Argolea?” Cynna’s eyes widened, and she shot a look at Theron over Nick’s shoulder. “Oh, you should definitely go.”

“The Council’s got a serious set of sticks up their asses,” Titus said somewhere to Nick’s left. “Orpheus is doing the best he can to try to keep the peace, but shit, man. It’s O. We all know how well that’s going over.”

Zander muttered something Nick didn’t catch. Something about the Council and the witches and some kind of settlement. All crap Nick couldn’t care less about. And Argolea was the last place he ever wanted to visit again.

His hand tightened around Cynna’s elbow, and a desperate urge to get her alone, to finish what they’d started upstairs consumed him. He tugged on her arm, drawing her a step back toward the stairs. “You’re coming with me. We have unfinished business.”

Cynna dug her bare heels in and struggled against his grip. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s definitely stronger,” a female voice said near Gryphon. One Nick recognized. “I could feel it as soon as we came into the castle. It’s clearly coming from him.”

Nick’s irritated gaze darted to Maelea, whom he hadn’t picked out on first glance because she’d been standing behind her mate, then to Gryphon. “You brought her here? Stupid Argonaut. The therillium ore isn’t camouflaging this place anymore. Hades can find it again if he looks.”

Gryphon reached for his mate’s hand and drew her to his side. “We’re not staying long. You need to come back with us.”

“Who the hell is that?” Cynna mumbled, still pulling back from Nick’s hold.

“Maelea.”

Cynna’s eyes widened. “Maelea…as in Zeus and Persephone’s daughter?” She tugged harder against his grip. “Oh yeah. I’m
so
not getting caught with
that.
Let go of me right now.”

Nick’s irritation reached its breaking point. He clenched his jaw and pulled her another inch toward the stairs.

“Nick—”
 

“Look,” Nick answered before Theron could get more than his name out, “I’m not interested in whatever crisis you’ve got going back in Argolea. You all know the way out, so find the fucking door on your own.”

“Niko, stop.”

Nick stilled at the use of his given name. His gaze shifted to the right, toward Demetrius, whom he hadn’t even noticed when he’d come down the stairs because he’d been so focused on Cynna.

His brother’s dark hair was messy, his skin sallow, and there was a haunted look to his black eyes. One that stopped Nick cold.

“She’s sick,” Demetrius said. “We’re not sure what’s wrong with her, but Callia thinks you might be able to help.”

She.

Isadora.

His
soul mate.

The swirling irritation came to a shuddering halt. Nick’s gaze drifted over the faces around him, seeing nothing and no one as he searched for that connection he felt to Isadora. The soul mate draw was still there. Lurking beneath the surface. But it wasn’t as strong as it had been even a month ago. Something he was grateful for but suddenly way the fuck confused by. Especially since he hadn’t realized she was sick. Now, yes, he could feel that something was off, but he’d had to think about her, to focus on her to realize it. Which was a thousand times different from years past.
 

His brow dropped low as he looked back at his brother. “What can I do? Your bond with her is stronger.”

“Not anymore,” Demetrius answered in a strained voice.
 

Nick had no idea what Demetrius meant, but when Cynna pulled back on his grip again, his attention darted her way.

“You should go with them,” she said. “They clearly need you.”

And she didn’t. His gaze sharpened on her dark eyes. And he saw again what he’d seen upstairs in the salon, just after he’d held her.

Fear.

Though right now, he couldn’t tell if it was because of him or the Argonauts surrounding her.

Indecision skipped through his mind and then fled. She might not need him, but he definitely needed her. And there was no way he was going to Argolea without sanity on his side.

He looked back at his brother. “Fine. I’ll go with you.” He nodded toward the female he had yet to release. “But she’s coming too.”

“
What?
” Cynna tugged hard on Nick’s grip. “No way in hell.”

Nick only held her tighter, pulling her up against his side. Demetrius’s eyes shifted her way, and though Nick’s gaze didn’t follow, judging from the increased beat of her pulse beneath his fingertips and the heat now rolling off her in waves where she pressed against him, he knew she was seething.

Too bad. He needed her to keep him from losing it for good. Especially now when he was heading back to the one place he swore he’d never visit again.
 

“Who is she?” Demetrius asked.

“I—”

“Just someone who helped me escape from Zagreus,” Nick answered, cutting her off.

“She’s Argolean,” Theron said cautiously at Nick’s back. “What was an Argolean doing with the Prince of Darkness?”

Nick huffed. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m right here,” Cynna growled from between clenched teeth. “I can answer my own da—”

Nick squeezed her elbow until she winced.

Theron stared at her a long beat, then finally glanced toward the other Argonauts. “Fine. She can cross with us. Z?”

“On it.” Zander brought his hands together so his pinkies touched. The portal between worlds popped and sizzled and opened with a sharp beam of light that illuminated the room.
 

A heavy weight pushed hard against Nick’s chest. At his side, every muscle in Cynna’s body contracted.
 

He leaned close to her ear while Gryphon and Maelea went through the portal, and whispered, “Don’t worry. We won’t stay long. And I meant what I said before. We still have unfinished business.”

“Fuck you,” she growled.
 

“Pretty sure you already did that.”

“Don’t remind me.” She yanked back on his grip once more, her eyes like daggers, but he only held her tighter, not letting her move away. “The second you release me, I’m gone.”

That pressure in his chest eased, if only for a moment. Because this, her feisty defiance, gave him something solid and real to focus on instead of the shit that was about to go down. And staying centered on her kept that poisonous darkness from bubbling to the surface. “Then I suggest you get used to my touch, female, because there’s no way I’m letting you go. And that means you’re gonna get a whole lot more of me real soon.”

C
ynna was on the verge of hyperventilating. Not only were Nick’s fingers digging into her elbow, leaving bruises in their wake, but he’d dragged her through the portal and was now hauling her with him into the castle.

The Argolean castle.

Gods almighty. Gods al—
fucking
—mighty.

Perspiration dotted her forehead, collected along her back, and slid down her spine. His “soul mate” clearly knew the queen. Which meant there was a chance Cynna might run into the bitch in this horrid place. Anger and panic and disbelief tangled in her chest until she couldn’t breathe.

She focused on drawing air deep into her lungs, then pushing it out so she didn’t actually lose it. A gust of wind swept through the ginormous entryway, sending a shiver down her spine, and that was when she realized that not only was she in the middle of her own worst nightmare come true, she was wearing nothing but Nick’s thin T-shirt. No shoes, no pants, not even underwear beneath the soft black cotton that hit her midthigh. And thanks to the fact she’d bolted before she’d even had a chance to think about clothing, that meant she was probably still sporting that just-fucked look too.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered.

“Stay close to me,” Nick whispered at her side.

Fury whipped through her with the force of a tornado. “Fuck y—”

“Cynna.” His gaze darted down to her while they walked behind the Argonauts. “This isn’t a game.”

She knew this wasn’t a game, dammit. For her, it was the furthest thing from a game. It was the last possible place she wanted to be. Her own private version of hell. A—

“I know you’re pissed,” he said, easing his hold on her elbow a touch. “But I’m asking you to please not make the situation worse. Fifteen minutes, then we’re gone. Trust me, I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”