Unchained: An Eternal Guardians Novella (8 page)

The pain she’d tried to fight back lanced her chest. His declaration was exactly what she’d wanted when she’d hatched this crazy plan, but now there was no way she could let it happen. “You can’t.”

“Yes, I can. I’m a Titan. Tell me where you are. I’m not afraid of Zeus.”

“I know you’re not,” she whispered, lifting to her toes and pressing her lips against his for one last kiss. “But I am.” She lowered to her heels as tears filled her eyes. Tears that were as foreign to her as this heaviness in her chest. “I’m sorry, Prometheus. I’m sorry for everything.”

Before she could change her mind, she cut the feed. The dank rock walls of her cell replaced the gazebo’s ornate columns. Prometheus’s frantic, “Come back,” echoed in her ears as the agony of loss settled deep into her bones. And in a moment of clarity she knew the shade wasn’t the greatest threat to her life.

Caring for someone else—caring for Prometheus and never seeing him again—would decimate her far worse than that monster ever could.

CHAPTER FIVE

The last time...

Prometheus stood in the middle of the gazebo long minutes after Keia disappeared. Something had happened to spook her. Something over the last two days when she’d been away. He’d been so obsessed with touching her—with having her—that he hadn’t picked up on her signals when she’d finally appeared.

The dream—or had it been a vision?—which he’d had days ago, drifted through his mind. He had the gift of foresight. He could see alternate futures. But those futures were often hazy when they involved himself. This one had been clear, though: Zeus, controlling her, leading him to his death. Only he was a Titan. He couldn’t be killed. Not by conventional means. He could be captured, though.

A warning tingle rushed down his spine as he turned a slow circle, looking over the gazebo in the early evening light but seeing none of it. Was she a plant by Zeus? Was this a trick to lure him to imprisonment once more? He didn’t want to believe it but she herself had said she’d made a deal with the king of the gods. He’d been so obsessed with her he hadn’t pushed that issue when he’d seen her last. Then he’d gotten lost in her sweet, seductive kiss.

Her words—before she’d been pulled away the last time—echoed in his mind:
“You’re the only thing I have to look forward to, Titos. I know it’s not fair to you, but I think about you all the time. Even when I shouldn’t.”
Followed by the memory of that blood and the blinding pain he’d felt when he’d touched it.

His heart sped up, beating a bruising rhythm against his ribs. None of that could be a trick. He’d felt the desperation in her kiss, heard the truth in her words, and the blood...she’d said it was animal, but he knew in his gut it had been her blood. He wasn’t sure how he knew, he just did. And the pain he’d felt when he’d touched it had been hers as well.

She was in danger. She was with Zeus, in some kind of cave, he remembered her saying at one point, and she was in danger of—

“Holy shit.” His eyes flew wide. He’d heard his daughter and Titus speak of one witch who lived high in the caves of Mt. Olympus. One who’d helped the Argonauts not long ago. Only she didn’t go by the name Keia.

He pictured the Argolean castle in the heart of the capital city of Tiyrns and teleported into the foyer of the marble structure. As a god, he had the power to flash through walls, something the Argolean people could not do. The guards stationed at the main doors turned at the sound of his appearance. Their eyes grew wide as they drew their swords. In seconds they were rushing toward him.

He didn’t have time for this nonsense. Wanted nothing more than to backhand the guards into next week. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the fact his daughter was invested in this realm and that he didn’t want to make things worse for her.

Six guards surrounded him, swords and spears drawn and pointed right at his heart. Holding up his hands in a nonthreatening way, Prometheus said, “I want no trouble. I’ve just come to find the Argonaut Aristokles.”

The guards didn’t back down. Voices echoed in the three-story entry. Just when Prometheus’s patience was about to hit its limit, he heard Titus’s voice from the balcony above.

“What in Hades?” Titus rushed down the wide, curved staircase, waving the guards back with his hand. “He’s with me. He’s fine. Let him through.”

The guards slowly lowered their weapons and stood at attention. Titus drew close, his hair pulled back, his hands covered in those ever-present gloves, a look of bewilderment across his weathered face. “What’s going on? Why are you here?” Panic rushed across his features. “Natasa isn’t—”

“No,” Prometheus said quickly, recognizing that quick shot of fear in Titus’s eyes...the same fear he was feeling for Keia. “I’m not here about Natasa. I haven’t even seen her. I need to speak with Aristokles.”

“Ari?” Titus’s brow wrinkled. “He’s not here. He’s in the human realm. On a scouting mission.”

Shit.
“Where?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t checked in since last night.”

Frustration pummeled Prometheus from every side. “What about the princess?”

“Elysia?”

That was her name. He was so far removed from the politics of this realm, he barely paid attention to who was related to whom. “Yes. Where is she?”

“In a meeting with the queen and the Council. Prometheus, what’s this about?”

Prometheus swiped a hand against his suddenly sweaty brow. “It’s about Olympus. I need to know what Aristokles and the princess saw when they went to Mt. Olympus.”

“To rescue Cerek?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Holy Hades. Prometheus liked Titus for the most part, but right now he was ready to shake some sense into the Argonaut. “Because someone’s life might be in danger thanks to that rescue.”

Titus clearly didn’t understand, and Prometheus was past the point of wanting to explain. “Where’s Cerek? Is he here?”

“Yeah, he’s in the training center with Max.”

Prometheus turned on his heels. “Maybe he can help me.”

The training center was a domed structure on the castle grounds. It consisted of a gym, weight room, medical facility, and classrooms. Searching rooms, Prometheus finally located Cerek in a medical bay having his shoulder stitched up by a healer.

Prometheus didn’t bother to wait until the Argonaut was done, just stalked into the room without waiting for an invitation. The healer glanced over with an annoyed look. Cerek, shirtless and seated on an exam table, looked up as he and Titus entered. “Hey,” he said as the healer placed a bandage on his arm. “What’s up with you two?”

“What happened?” Titus asked, nodding toward Cerek’s arm.

“Nothing. Just took my eyes off Max when I shouldn’t have.”

Max was an Argonaut in training, Prometheus remembered from a conversation with his daughter. Young. Cocky. A little bit reckless. He’d spent time in the Underworld as a kid. That had to fuck a person up.

“Where is he now?” Titus asked.

“With Zander. Probably getting a lecture about taking it easy on the old folks.”

Titus nodded. The healer said, “You’re done. Just keep this dry for a few hours so it has time to heal.”

“Thanks.” Climbing off the table as the healer left the room, Cerek reached for his shirt. “So what’s going on?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Titus muttered.

Prometheus’s jaw clenched. “Aristokles and the princess mentioned a witch on Olympus when they went to rescue you. I need to know why she’s there.”

Cerek glanced at Titus and back to Prometheus with a perplexed expression. “She’s there because she works for Zeus. She’s the one who reprogrammed me.”

Zeus’s Sirens had shot Cerek with a poisoned arrow twenty-five years ago. The Argonauts had all thought he’d died, but the poison had preserved his body in stone. Zeus had taken him to Olympus and wiped his memory so he didn’t know who he was or where he’d come from. He’d only recently regained his memory when he’d been rescued by the princess and the Argonauts. “In a cave?”

“Yeah.” The wrinkle in Cerek’s brow deepened. “On Mt. Olympus. Why?”

Prometheus’s conversation with Keia days ago ran through his memory.

“What does he want from you?”

“
He wants to punish me.”

“
Why?”

“
Because I helped someone. Someone Zeus was using so he could gain more power.”

“What was her name?” he asked.

Cerek frowned as if it were common knowledge. “Circe.”

Circe was the daughter of Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft and the strongest sorceress to ever walk the earth. She’d never been as powerful as her mother, but Prometheus knew from his interactions with the immortal world before his imprisonment that the daughter of Hecate had craved power as much as Zeus himself.

Keia. Goddess pharmakeia. That’s what the commoners had called Circe for years. His eyes widened with understanding. She’d told him who she was with that name, and he still hadn’t clued in because he’d been so obsessed with her.

“Find me, Titos...”

She worked for Zeus. She’d sought him out, appeared to him, seduced him so the king of the gods could recapture him. And he’d fallen for it. Even told her he’d risk facing Zeus to find her.

“Why the sudden interest in Circe?” Cerek asked. “Is she in danger?”

Prometheus turned away, his heart pounding hard with both adrenaline and utter stupidity. No, the witch wasn’t in danger. He was.

“I don’t know,” Titus muttered. “But there’s clearly something going on. And before you ask, no I can’t read him.”

Silence stretched over the room as Prometheus thought back over every interaction he’d had with the witch.

“Elysia’s had nothing but regret about leaving Circe in that cave,” Cerek said long seconds later. “She didn’t have to help us, but she did. I guarantee Zeus has come up with some twisted form of punishment for her because of us. He keeps all kinds of sick monsters trapped in the bowels of Mt. Olympus.”

The memory of that blood hit Prometheus again. He turned to look back at the Argonauts. “What did you just say?”

Cerek met his gaze. “I said Zeus is probably punishing her because of us. That witch is as much a prisoner as I ever was.”

As much as Prometheus ever was.

“I was not always a good witch, Titos. But I want to be one. I hope you believe that.”

He’d felt the truth in those words when she’d said them, did believe them even if she’d kept her identity secret, and every time he though about that blood, each time he remembered the agony he’d felt when he’d touched it, he knew Cerek was right. She was being punished for helping the Argonauts. And judging by the way she’d been pulled away from Prometheus during the times they’d been together, that punishment had happened right before his eyes, and he hadn’t realized it.

He’d been punished daily by Zeus. Chained to a rock in the blistering heat of the sun, unable to move as he waited for a giant eagle to slice into his side with its razor sharp beak, rip out his liver, and leave him in blinding pain until the wounds slowly closed and consciousness returned.

Yes, Zeus could come up with all kinds of horrendous punishments. For a witch who’d helped the Argonauts, Prometheus knew the king of the gods would not hold back.

The urge to find her, to save her, to rescue her from the same kind of hell he’d lived through overwhelmed Prometheus. “You’re certain she’s on Mt. Olympus.”

“Yeah,” Cerek answered. “She can’t leave there. Her magic’s confined to the mountain.”

“Where? Where is her cave?”

“At the top. There’s a path that winds all the way up.”

Prometheus’s mind spun. He could transport to Olympus. The minute he stepped foot into the realm of the heavens, though, Zeus would know. The king of the gods would sense him. He wouldn’t have much time to find Circe and transport her to freedom.

“Thank you.” Plans ricocheted through Prometheus’s brain as he turned away from the Argonauts.

He made it two steps before his daughter’s mate stepped in his path and held up both gloved hands. “Hold up. You’re not thinking about going to Olympus to get her, are you?”

“No, I’m not thinking about it.” He’d already decided.

Titus’s jaw tightened. “You’re walking into a trap. You know that, don’t you? All for a witch.”

He might be, but he didn’t care. Witch or not, Circe made him feel alive in a way nothing and no one had in over a thousand years. Regardless of why she’d sought him out—whether it was her doing or Zeus’s—he wouldn’t leave her to the same torment he’d endured.

Before Titus could stop him, he pictured Zeus’s precious mountain and flashed.

* * * *

Mt. Olympus was cold and dark when he arrived.

The sun had set. Night pressed in from all sides as Prometheus stood behind a rock outcropping, staring toward a dark cave opening. There had to be more than a hundred caves on this damn mountain, but he’d yet to pass a single one. This had to be the right place.

He hoped it was, at least, because Zeus had probably already been alerted to an outside force in his realm. It wouldn’t take long for the king of the gods to zero in on that energy and locate Prometheus.

“You’d better be there,” Prometheus whispered beneath the starry sky.

He moved away from his shelter and into the tunnel. Cool air washed over his cheeks, sending a shiver down his spine. It was dark, but his Titan eyesight picked out every bump and ridge on the rock walls. He followed the tunnel around twists and curves until it opened to a vast room with a raised platform and a pedestal topped with a copper bowl. No sound echoed from the space. No movement to cut the silence. He climbed the steps and circled the bowl, recognizing it as a cauldron. Circe’s, he guessed.

He lifted his gaze and scanned the room. Two arched doorways opened off the space. Moving in that direction, he peeked into a bedchamber and another room that housed rows and rows of books, a small sitting area, and a basic kitchen.

This was where she lived. Where Zeus had trapped her for over a thousand years to conjure her spells under his bidding. But she wasn’t here now. His heart pounded hard as he rationalized where she could be.