Ravaged: An Eternal Guardians Novella (1001 Dark Nights) (2 page)

“Perhaps.” Sappheire peered back toward the white painted building of Siren headquarters, less stately and ornate than the structures on Olympus, but still intimidating. “I think you’re being summoned.”

Daphne’s gaze followed as she slid her bow into her boot, then focused on two figures standing on the back porch of the building. One she knew on first glance. The goddess Athena and head of the Siren Order flicked her curly chestnut locks over her shoulder and waved her hand in a come-this-way move. She was striking and gorgeous and every bit the goddess Daphne had imagined her to be as a child. But it was the other figure that made Daphne’s pulse skip. The seven-foot tall, dark-haired god at Athena’s side, commanding all with just his stately presence.

Zeus.

“Don’t stand there dumbfounded, girl.” Sappheire nudged Daphne toward the building. “The last thing you want to do is keep the king of the gods waiting. Go already.”

Right. The king of the gods...

Swallowing hard, Daphne put one foot in front of the other and headed for the building. Behind her, the sun dipped below Zeus’s palace until the sky above was nothing but a warm pink glow, but she didn’t even notice. She was suddenly too scared that Athena and Zeus had finally figured out she wasn’t Siren material and were going to kick her out of the Order.

She stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up at the gods. Steeled herself for the inevitable. “My king.” She bowed, then nodded toward his companion. “My lady Athena. You called for me?”

Zeus, every bit as handsome and muscular and intimidating as always, rested his enormous hands on his hips and peered down at her. “She’s not been altered.”

“No,” Athena replied. “This one did not require any special enhancements.”

Heat rushed to Daphne’s cheeks as Zeus’s gaze rolled over her breasts, slid down her waist to the flare of her hips, then followed the line of her legs to her feet. She wondered if he remembered her. Doubted that he did. Though Zeus occasionally came to the training fields, he rarely paid her any attention. In fact, she’d bet he didn’t even remember meeting her as a child.

Slowly, as if he could see through her clothing to her nakedness beneath, he raked his eyes back up her body until every inch of her skin was hot and trembling. “This is even her natural hair color?”

“Yes,” Athena answered. “She was born with the dark mahogany locks. No makeover necessary.”

“Hm….” The king of the gods moved down the three stone steps and circled Daphne. Her pulse shot into the stratosphere and her stomach caved in as he examined her from every angle. “Curvy. I like that. Nice ass, small waist.” He stopped in front of her and stared at her tits, desire flaring hot in his black as sin eyes. “And these. Enticing.”

Daphne kept her arms at her sides. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t show any response. But her nerves kicked up even higher. It was normal for her to react to an attractive male. All nymphs did. But this wasn’t a male she was even the least bit interested in, and not for the first time she cursed her overly sexual lineage.

“Ahem.” Athena cleared her throat. “The matter at hand?”

Scowling, Zeus turned to look up at the goddess. “Seduction training?”

“Completed,” Athena answered. “She received high marks from her instructor.”

Zeus looked back at Daphne, and once again, his lusty gaze scalded her body. “I’m sure she did. She’s a purebred Naiad. The spitting image of her mother.”

So he did remember her. Images of her mother and the day Daphne had lost her filled Daphne’s mind and tugged at the heart she kept carefully closed off.

“Marksmanship has proven to be a limitation for her.” Athena moved to stand at Zeus’s side and crossed her arms over her chest in a clearly perturbed manner. “If you’d rather see some of the others—”

“No.” Zeus held up a hand but didn’t once look away from Daphne. “This one will do. Tell me, female, have you taken a new name since being on Olympus?”

They were finally talking to her. Daphne had no idea what was going on, but so far it didn’t sound as if they were going to kick her out of the training class. And as much as she hated the mention of her mother, especially in combination with Zeus’s lusty looks, she knew the probability of the god-king propositioning her was slim. She wasn’t her mother, even if she did resemble her. And Sirens, thanks to Athena, were the only females that were off limits to Zeus. “No, my king. I go by my given name, Daphne.”

“Ah, named after the nymph who was rescued from my son Apollo’s unwanted advances and changed into a laurel tree. Tell me, Daphne, do you wish to become a laurel tree like your namesake?”

“No, my king.”

“I should hope not. Your skills would be extremely wasted in tree form.” He clasped his hands behind his back and eyed her carefully. “Sappheire has had nothing but good things to say about you, and so far your training scores have been stellar. Aside from marksmanship, that is.”

“I’m improving,” Daphne said quickly. “I’m working very hard. If you just give me a little more time—”

“Relax.” Zeus held up a hand. “What we need from you does not involve marksmanship.”

Daphne’s gaze darted between Zeus and Athena. “What you need from me?”

Athena shot a frustrated look at Zeus, but he didn’t bother to glance her way. “We’re in need of a Siren with your talents for a special mission. Are you interested?”

She had no idea what kind of mission they were talking about, but something in her gut said never to say no to the king of the gods. “Yes, of course.”

“She’s too naïve,” Athena mumbled.

“That’s exactly why we’re going to use her.” Zeus’s eyes flashed. “You’ve heard of the rogue Argonaut loose in the human realm? The one they call Ari?”

Daphne’s mind skipped over snippets of gossip she’d heard from her Siren sisters. “We all have. He’s a monster.”

“Yes, he is.” Zeus’s jaw clenched. “A very dangerous monster that needs to be stopped. Unfortunately, our conventional attempts at dealing with him have not worked. Which is where you come in. We want to send you in undercover for the Order.”

Daphne stared at the god’s face for several seconds, sure she had to have heard him wrong. “Me? But I-I’m not even a Siren yet. I haven’t taken my final vows. I’m—”

“You are a nymph. A voluptuous, alluring nymph, like your mother. Aristokles has but one weakness: sexy, vulnerable nymphs. You will pretend to be in jeopardy, let him take you back to his lair, and when he least expects it, kill him.”

Daphne’s heart beat hard, and her hands grew sweaty. This was a suicide mission. She’d heard horror stories about the crazed Argonaut and what he liked to do to Sirens. “But...my king...he tortures and kills Sirens. I’ll not make it past—”

“You are not a full Siren yet,” Athena cut in. “You have not been inducted, you do not bear the marking, and because of your nymph heritage, your body was never altered. He will not sense that you are a Siren, because you are not one...yet.”

“If you succeed in this mission, however,” Zeus added, “you will be inducted immediately upon your return. Regardless of your marksmanship scores.”

Daphne’s pulse roared in her head. This was her chance to belong. To finally be one of them. Her stomach swirled with excitement and apprehension. “Wh-what would I need to do?”

“Kill him, of course,” Zeus answered. “But before you do that, I need confirmation of something. I suspect the Argonaut has a very special marking on his body. Not the Argonaut markings on his forearms. This is different. Before he’s terminated, I need you to search his entire body and either prove or disprove the appearance of the marking.”

“What kind of marking?” Daphne asked.

Zeus glanced toward Athena. A silent look passed between the two gods before Zeus refocused on Daphne. “We’re not sure. But the marking disappears at the time of death, so you cannot kill him and then look for it. You must find it while he is alive.”

So all she had to do was get close enough to the mass-murdering psycho to check every inch of his skin for some unknown marking. Yeah. That sounded easy.

Not.

“I-I’m not sure how I would do that,” Daphne said hesitantly.

“This is where your nymph background comes in handy.” Zeus lifted his brows in a “duh, it’s easy” move. “Use your seduction skills. Charm him. Get him to drop his guard. Earn his trust so he least suspects your mission.”

Daphne’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean—”

“Yes, you’ll have to fuck him,” Athena said. “Probably several times.” An irritated expression crossed the goddess’s face. “You sailed through seduction training, Daphne. This shouldn’t be that difficult for you.”

Unease rippled through Daphne. She’d only been twenty when she’d been plucked from her foster home and brought to Olympus to train with the Sirens. Barely old enough to come into her sexuality, and the males she’d fooled around with as a teenager didn’t count. Yes, she’d made it through seduction training easily, but only because she’d had an amazing instructor, a minor god who hadn’t forced her. One who’d taken plenty of time to teach her about her own body and the powers of sex. That didn’t mean she had any real experience seducing males—she’d been here for seven years, for crying out loud. And she had zero experience with savages like the psycho Argonaut Aristokles.

“We need an answer,” Zeus said. “Either you are with us—”

“Or you are without us,” Athena finished.

Daphne’s gaze slid from one god to the other. She knew what they were saying. Either she did this and became a full-fledged Siren, or she didn’t and was banished from the Order forever.

“Well?” Zeus asked.

Daphne bit her lip and nodded. Then prayed she made it through this alive. “I’ll do it.”

CHAPTER TWO

“This is as good a place as any.” Sappheire nodded toward the log resting along the edge of a small stream in the mountains of the Snoqualmie National Forest.

“Here?” Shivering in the cool, damp air, Daphne crossed her arms over her belly and rubbed her biceps to stimulate blood flow. There was nothing but trees and moss and a scattering of snow in the dark forest of Northern Washington for as far as she could see. Nothing to indicate anyone besides them was even in the area. “Are you sure?”

“His hunting patterns indicate he’ll come through this region soon.” Sappheire looked toward the redheaded Siren at her side. “Rhebekah, take her jacket.”

Without a word, Rhebekah stepped forward, tugged the jacket from Daphne’s shoulders, and pushed her to sit on the log.

Grunting, Daphne reached for the wood beneath her to keep from falling over. Her stomach swirled with apprehension as she looked up at Sappheire, waiting for some kind of reassurance—any kind of reassurance—from her mentor. But just as she’d done while they were preparing Daphne for this mission and while they’d traveled to this location, Sappheire refused to look at her or offer any words of advice.

That apprehension turned to a wave of fear. Did the Siren know something Daphne didn’t? Had Zeus lied? Was this really—she swallowed hard—a suicide mission after all?

Daphne’s mind spun with possibilities, but she couldn’t come up with a legitimate reason for Zeus to have lied. He clearly wanted the Argonaut dead. Ari had been wreaking havoc on Sirens for years. Regardless of Zeus’s connection to her mother, she had to make this work. But Zeus’s order that Daphne find a mark on the Argonaut’s body—a vague mark which he hadn’t bothered to explain—sent another wave of worry rushing over her.

Stealing her nerves, Daphne looked from Sappheire to Rhebekah and back again, focusing on what came next, not what she had to do down the line. “But why would he be here? There are no Sirens in this area. Except for, well, us. He doesn’t know we’re here. He certainly didn’t know we were coming.”

Sappheire nodded toward Rhebekah. “It’s time for us to leave.”

“Wait.” Daphne pushed quickly to her feet. “How will I know where to find him?”

“You’ll not find him,” Rhebekah answered. “He’ll find you.”

Before Daphne could protest again, the Sirens disappeared, flashing back to Olympus without her.

In the silence, Daphne shivered and lowered herself back to the log. As she wasn’t a full-fledged Siren, she couldn’t flash after them, which meant from here on out, she was on her own.

Glancing around the forest, she tried not to freak out. Dusk was quickly moving to dark. In a matter of minutes it would be pitch black, not even a moon to guide her.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and rubbed her bare skin in the hopes of scrubbing away the fear. The dress Athena had made her wear was flimsy and white, with tiny cap sleeves and a hem that barely hit mid-thigh. The matching shoes were nothing but ballet slippers. She knew the outfit was meant to be alluring, but no female in her right mind—nymph or not—would be caught out in the cold in this getup. And right now she was more worried about freezing to death than what any crazed Argonaut was doing out here in these woods.

Don’t think about Aristokles. Think about what you need to do next.

She rubbed her arms again. Tried to think clearly. She had no coat, no blanket, nothing to stay warm, and no idea how long she’d be here. It could take hours for the psycho Argonaut to venture her way—
if
he was really out here. In the meantime, she needed to find shelter and a way to stay warm. Needed—

A howl echoed somewhere through the trees. She jerked in that direction, her heart rate shooting up even higher, sending blood pulsing through her veins.

Okay, maybe cold wasn’t her biggest problem right now. Her Siren sisters hadn’t just left her without a coat, they’d left her without a weapon to defend herself.

A twig cracked off to her right. Lurching to her feet, she scanned the ground and spotted a downed branch, as long and thick as a baseball bat. Grasping it in both hands, she swiveled toward the sound and slowly backed up, her hands shaking.

Long seconds passed. Finally, a rabbit jumped out of the brush, spotted her with big brown eyes, and quickly scurried away.

Daphne released a heavy breath and dropped the branch to the ground. She was flipping out for no reason. If that didn’t prove she needed to pull it together, nothing did. She was a Siren, for crying out loud. Not a wimpy female.