TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7) (30 page)

“Papers? What papers?”
 

The massive doors opened, just a crack, and a young male, close to Cynna’s age, came through, nodded at the guards, and walked past. Cynna peered through the opening as the gates slowly closed. Dozens of people filled the streets. Buildings—those were actual buildings, not ruins—stood on both sides of the road.

Her skin grew hot, and she took a step forward, a new sort of panic spreading through her veins. “Who’s in there? What…?”

The guard shoved a hand against her shoulder, stopping her. “Papers, female. No papers, no admittance.”

“But that’s my home,” she said, pushing against him. “I have every right to be here. I demand to know who’s using my—”

“Cynna? Is that you?”

The female voice from beyond the closing doors slowed Cynna’s struggling. She knew that voice. Knew it well.

Her heart beat hard, this time not from panic but from a warmth that curled through her entire body. “Delia?”

“Open these gates, at once,” Delia demanded on the other side of the door. “She’s one of us.”

Some kind of argument was happening. Cynna couldn’t hear clearly through the closed doors. But seconds later, the heavy grind of the great wood doors parting sounded once more, and Delia’s face appeared—snow-white hair hanging past her shoulders, sharp blue eyes, high cheekbones on a youthful face, and thin lips curved into a welcoming smile. To most she looked to be only in her early thirties, the same age as Cynna, but she was much, much older. And wiser. “My dear Cynna.”

The witch wrapped her arms around Cynna and pulled her into a tight hug, and as the familiar scent of lemon surrounded Cynna, she closed her eyes and held on, for the first time in…years…feeling something other than alone.

“She has no papers,” the guard mumbled.

Delia glanced his direction with an irritated expression. “You and your useless papers. I’ll vouch for her.” She looked back at Cynna, her annoyance fading. “Come. You look a fright, child. Come in out of the cold.”

Delia pulled Cynna into the settlement. A shiver raced down Cynna’s spine as she stepped into the courtyard, and for the first time, she registered the temperature. But even that faded as the gigantic doors closed behind her, and she looked around the bustling city of Kyrenia.

“Looks quite different, doesn’t it?” Delia said at her side, one arm still wrapped around Cynna’s shoulders.

“Slightly.” Cynna swallowed the lump in her throat.

The last time she’d stood in this spot, just before she’d left for the human realm, Cynna had stared at nothing but ruins. Broken stone, charred wood beams, ash and dust and the remnants of a life she sometimes thought of as a dream. But these weren’t ruins. Shops had been rebuilt. Homes had been restored. The fountain in the middle of the courtyard where she’d waded as a child was bubbling. Children dressed in coats and boots were playing tag and throwing snowballs while males and females shopped, chatted, and went about their business.

Cynna looked from face to face, searching for someone familiar, finding nothing but strangers. “Who are all these people?”

“Refugees,” Delia answered, moving forward and pulling Cynna along with her. “The coven is helping to get them settled.”

“Refugees from where?”

“The human realm. They’re Misos. From the half-breed colony.” When Cynna’s brow dropped, Delia added, “Half-Argolean, half-human.”

“I know what half-breeds are,” Cynna said, trying to keep the irritation from her voice. “How did they get here?”

“The queen brought them.”

“
What
?” Cynna stopped and faced her mother’s oldest friend.

Delia’s expression turned sad. “Hades and his son attacked the Misos colony, and the queen and the Argonauts brought them here for safekeeping.”

“Here?” Cynna looked around, disbelief swirling in her chest. “To
our
home?”

“It wasn’t much of a home of late. You’ve been gone so long, you couldn’t know. The settlement has been empty and cold for years. Originally, the queen was housing the refugees in the castle in Tiyrns. But there were too many, and the Council… Well…” Delia sighed. “The Council made it clear they did not want the Misos wandering around the capital. She contacted me for advice. I suggested the Kyrenia settlement. So they were relocated here.”

Just the fact that Delia, of all people, would allow the queen to use their home as a prison flared the fires of Cynna’s anger right back to life.

“Banished, you mean,” Cynna ground out. Yeah, that made sense. Of course the queen would lock away anyone who was different so they didn’t infect her perfect Argolean society. But Cynna had no idea why she’d even bother to bring the Misos here from the human realm in the first place.
 

“Not banished,” Delia said, her sharp voice drawing Cynna’s gaze. “Saved. Did you not see the guards at the gates? Those were castle guards, pulled from the monarchy’s personal detail.”

“Yeah, I saw them. Chosen, obviously, to keep the Misos locked in.”

“No, Cynna. To keep the Council and their spies
out
.” Delia’s eyes narrowed. “Has your heart been hardened so much that you cannot see what’s right in front of you? Look around, child. Look at these people. Do they look like prisoners to you?”

Cynna glanced back over the faces. Smiling, laughing faces. And even though she didn’t want to believe it, even she could see these people seemed content. Not miserable as she and everyone else who’d lived in Zagreus’s realm had been. Not bitter and broken. Yes, some walked with crutches, others had ugly scars from what she knew were battles past, but no one seemed on edge. No one looked afraid. No one around her appeared anything but calm and relaxed and, yes, even happy.

Her skin grew cold and clammy. An odd tingle built in her chest. She glanced around again, only to realize…

She turned back to Delia. “You said they’re Misos? From which colony?”

“The one in Montana. Why?”

Nick’s colony. Cynna’s gaze skipped back over the faces even as her mind tumbled with visions of Nick standing in that burned and broken courtyard, seeing nothing but death around him. These were Nick’s people. Healthy. Whole. Alive.

That tingle turned to a warmth that flared all around her heart, making it beat faster. She needed to tell him. He thought everyone was dead. But as soon as the thought hit, reality slammed back into her.

He didn’t need her to tell him anything. The queen would undoubtedly fill him in on all he needed to know. Now that he was with his soul mate, there wasn’t a single thing he needed from Cynna.

That warmth died out, leaving behind cold, barren cinders, much like the ones she’d stared at in Zagreus’s massive fireplace. Only then, she’d been smart enough to protect her heart. At some point since then, she’d dropped her guard, and now she wasn’t just struggling with emotions she didn’t want to feel. Now she knew what it meant to truly be alone.

She swallowed hard, only that ache in her chest wouldn’t go away. And dammit, she didn’t need this now. Not when she didn’t have a clue what in the hell she was going to do next.

“Cynna?”

Delia’s voice wafted through the cool air, and Cynna glanced in her direction, only to realize she was still standing in the middle of the courtyard making a fool of herself. Giving her head a mental shake, she told herself to snap out of it. “I—I need somewhere to stay.”

Delia’s expression softened. “You’re always welcome with us, child. The coven has a house here in Kyrenia we use whenever one of us is visiting. Consider it yours. Call me selfish, but I’m hoping you’ll decide to stay permanently.”

Cynna wasn’t ready to commit to anything just yet, but a place where no one could find her sounded just about perfect at the moment. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I—”

“Cynna.”

The sound of Nick’s voice drew Cynna around, and her eyes flew wide as she watched him stalk in her direction across the courtyard. How in Hades had he found her? How had he gotten through the gates? She hadn’t even heard the damn things open. And why the hell was he here tormenting her?

She whipped back to Delia and wrapped her hand around the witch’s wrist. “Take me there. Now.”

“But—”

“Now.” When Delia’s gaze snapped to Nick, Cynna tightened her grip. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

Indecision crossed Delia’s face. Behind Cynna, someone said, “Nick? Oh my gods, is that…?”

“Look, everyone, it’s Nick!”

Voices drifted. Footsteps sounded. From the corner of her eye, Cynna saw a group suddenly swarming around Nick, slowing his pace. But his gaze was still locked on her, and though Cynna didn’t know what the heck he wanted from her, she didn’t care. She didn’t want to hear any more about his soul mate or talk about what had happened to her family or rehash what was obviously finished between them. She just wanted a moment of peace.

“Please,” she pleaded to Delia.
 

Delia’s eyes darkened. Then she nodded once. “Yes.”

Energy buzzed around Cynna as they flashed, and she felt herself flying. When she opened her eyes, she was standing on the porch of a two-story home that looked as if it had just been built.
 

“Come inside.” Delia released Cynna’s arm and pushed the front door open. “It’s cold out here.”

An entryway opened to a combo living-dining area. Stairs ran up to the second floor on the right, and a hallway led toward the back of the house. The room to her left was sparsely furnished with a couch, two side chairs, a fireplace, and an old wood dining table that looked like it sat at least six. There were no pictures hanging on the walls, no artwork, nothing to signify anyone lived here permanently.

Which was just fine with Cynna. She didn’t need anyone’s memories right now, including her own.

“Is it empty?” She moved into the living area and pressed her hand along the back of the soft brown couch. Exhaustion pulled at her, and she realized how tired she was after everything that had happened.

“Yes.” Delia headed down the hallway that opened to a kitchen, breakfast nook, and another gathering room. “I was here wrapping up a few things and was planning to go back to the coven tonight. But if you’re here, I might just stay. Are you hungry, child?”

Cynna’s stomach growled at just the mention of food, and she tried to remember the last time she’d had a meal. She hadn’t eaten that night she’d had dinner with Zagreus and Lykos. Hadn’t eaten anything when she’d been running in the jungle with Nick because she’d been injured. Hadn’t even looked for food at the colony. And then they’d come to Argolea and met Nick’s soul mate and…

That pressure returned to her chest all over again, and she forced herself to breathe through the pain. She wasn’t going to think about Nick and the queen. Wasn’t going to think about anything.

Her stomach rumbled again, and she tugged off her jacket and laid it over a chair, then pushed her legs forward to follow Delia. “Yeah. I am. I—”
 

“Cynna.”

Shock rippled through her once more, and she whipped around at the sound of the familiar voice. Nick stood in the middle of the living room, staring at her with those hard, determined amber eyes.

Hunger was washed away on a wave of heartbreak that had no place inside her and was followed by a quick burst of anger. “Godsdammit!”

“We’re not done, female.”

“Oh, we’re way past done.” He’d obviously used his newfound powers not only to track her and flash through solid walls, but to seriously piss her off. She pointed toward the door at his back. “Just go back to your soul mate and leave me the hell alone.”

 
“Cynna?” Delia called. “For gods’ sake, who are you yelling at? I can hear you a—”

Delia drew to a stop in the hallway, her gaze resting on Nick. Cynna had no idea if the witch could tell who—or what—he really was, but her guess was yes. As one of the eldest in the coven, Delia had the ability to see more than others.

A little of Cynna’s anger ebbed. No way Delia would allow Krónos’s son anywhere in her home. She had powers. Strong ones. Stronger than Nick’s right now. She could banish him from the settlement and cast a spell to keep him out.
 

Cynna crossed her arms over her chest, feeling smug and, dammit, oddly depressed. Which was an asinine thing to feel for a man she’d tortured, abused, and who had no reason to want to be anywhere near her. Why the hell did she even care? His soul mate was—

“I suddenly remembered a meeting I’m due to attend,” Delia announced. She turned toward Cynna and pulled her in for a quick hug. In Cynna’s ear, she whispered, “You need to deal with this, child.”

Cynna’s mouth fell open. No. She had to have heard Delia wrong. She wasn’t just going to leave her with this. “But—”

“I’ll find you later.” The witch released her, and in a flash she was gone, her powers strong enough for her to flash through walls, just like Nick.

“Cynna.” Nick shot her a hard look. “We need to talk.”

All that anger, humiliation, and betrayal Cynna had felt in the castle when she’d faced Isadora came raging back. She had to get out. Had to get away before she said or did something she’d regret. She moved around Nick and marched for the door. “The hell we do.”