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Authors: Elisabeth Naughton
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retreat.
“I can hold my own,” he said. “You know that.”
She did know that. She was the only one who knew his secret. Not even Gryphon knew that his brother was part daemon. He was right. He could take down just about anything that came at him, but he wasn’t invincible. And somewhere in the back of her mind she realized she’d foreseen this moment long ago. “Orpheus—”
“Go, Isa,” he said, softer. “You managed to save me; now do it for my brother. Get Gryphon home. I can hold them off long enough for all of you to get through. This time I need your help.”
She swallowed hard. Out in the hall, footsteps pounded and mixed with screams and shouts and cries of war.
Isadora took a step back. And another.
“Go!” Orpheus shouted. His eyes flashed again before jerking from her toward the doorway, which was suddenly filled with a horde of witches, all seething and hissing and bearing weapons like nothing Isadora had seen before.
Fear surged. Isadora turned and ran as Orpheus dropped down for attack.
Demetrius brought his hands together in front of him. “Run!”
The portal fractured and opened, illuminating the room in a burst of light so bright it blinded Isadora. She dropped her hand to block the glare, dug her bare feet into the slippery floor, and pushed off as hard as she could. Weapons clashed behind her. Screams and shouts resounded. Terror plagued her as she thought of Orpheus left here alone. But when she reached Demetrius and Gryphon, she didn’t hesitate. She sprinted through the opening toward salvation. And prayed somehow it would find them all.
***
“D?”
Behind Demetrius the portal popped and sizzled in a band of brilliant light that shimmered over the dark clearing. With one arm wrapped around Gryphon’s waist, the other holding the guardian’s arm at his shoulder to support his weight, dread welled in the bottom of Demetrius’s chest. “Yeah?”
“Tell me I’m hallucinating,” Gryphon muttered.
Dozens of glowing green eyes peered their way.
“Neither of us is that lucky.”
“Mother…” Gryphon winced in pain. “The portal didn’t improve our situation.”
No shit. As the daemons in the field turned and headed their way, exit strategies raced through Demetrius’s mind. A descendant of Perseus, the great hero who’d defeated Medusa, Gryphon had the power of paralysis, but he rarely used it. Not only was his power unpredictable, but using it drained him of strength and left him blind until the weakness passed. The Argonauts didn’t like him to call up his power unless they were in dire straits, and though that’s exactly what this was, in his current state there was no way Gryphon could freeze-frame their enemies without possibly killing himself in the process. That left battling their way out of this mess, which didn’t look all that promising from where Demetrius was standing.
No, Gryphon was wrong. Demetrius would take fifty witches over a pack of daemons any day.
Moonlight cascaded over their seven-foot-tall bodies, over their catlike faces, doglike ears, and horns that looked like something off a rabid goat. He glanced sideways to where Isadora was standing still as death, staring out at what now faced them.
His adrenaline surged. No way he could open the portal again and send her and Gryphon back to Argolea. Not with those daemons so close. If even one got through…
They didn’t have time. He unhooked Gryphon’s arm from around his shoulder. Pushed the guardian toward Isadora. Gryphon stumbled, but Isadora was right there to catch him. “Get back. Both of you.”
“Demet—” Isadora started.
He unstrapped the knife at his thigh and pushed the handle into Isadora’s small hands. It wasn’t much of a weapon against hell’s monsters, but it was better than nothing, and hopefully it’d give them a chance. A slight chance.
Sonofabitch. He’d thought they were fucked before? This topped that by a mile.
The black mist swirled and deepened,
“I can hold my own,” he said. “You know that.”
She did know that. She was the only one who knew his secret. Not even Gryphon knew that his brother was part daemon. He was right. He could take down just about anything that came at him, but he wasn’t invincible. And somewhere in the back of her mind she realized she’d foreseen this moment long ago. “Orpheus—”
“Go, Isa,” he said, softer. “You managed to save me; now do it for my brother. Get Gryphon home. I can hold them off long enough for all of you to get through. This time I need your help.”
She swallowed hard. Out in the hall, footsteps pounded and mixed with screams and shouts and cries of war.
Isadora took a step back. And another.
“Go!” Orpheus shouted. His eyes flashed again before jerking from her toward the doorway, which was suddenly filled with a horde of witches, all seething and hissing and bearing weapons like nothing Isadora had seen before.
Fear surged. Isadora turned and ran as Orpheus dropped down for attack.
Demetrius brought his hands together in front of him. “Run!”
The portal fractured and opened, illuminating the room in a burst of light so bright it blinded Isadora. She dropped her hand to block the glare, dug her bare feet into the slippery floor, and pushed off as hard as she could. Weapons clashed behind her. Screams and shouts resounded. Terror plagued her as she thought of Orpheus left here alone. But when she reached Demetrius and Gryphon, she didn’t hesitate. She sprinted through the opening toward salvation. And prayed somehow it would find them all.
***
“D?”
Behind Demetrius the portal popped and sizzled in a band of brilliant light that shimmered over the dark clearing. With one arm wrapped around Gryphon’s waist, the other holding the guardian’s arm at his shoulder to support his weight, dread welled in the bottom of Demetrius’s chest. “Yeah?”
“Tell me I’m hallucinating,” Gryphon muttered.
Dozens of glowing green eyes peered their way.
“Neither of us is that lucky.”
“Mother…” Gryphon winced in pain. “The portal didn’t improve our situation.”
No shit. As the daemons in the field turned and headed their way, exit strategies raced through Demetrius’s mind. A descendant of Perseus, the great hero who’d defeated Medusa, Gryphon had the power of paralysis, but he rarely used it. Not only was his power unpredictable, but using it drained him of strength and left him blind until the weakness passed. The Argonauts didn’t like him to call up his power unless they were in dire straits, and though that’s exactly what this was, in his current state there was no way Gryphon could freeze-frame their enemies without possibly killing himself in the process. That left battling their way out of this mess, which didn’t look all that promising from where Demetrius was standing.
No, Gryphon was wrong. Demetrius would take fifty witches over a pack of daemons any day.
Moonlight cascaded over their seven-foot-tall bodies, over their catlike faces, doglike ears, and horns that looked like something off a rabid goat. He glanced sideways to where Isadora was standing still as death, staring out at what now faced them.
His adrenaline surged. No way he could open the portal again and send her and Gryphon back to Argolea. Not with those daemons so close. If even one got through…
They didn’t have time. He unhooked Gryphon’s arm from around his shoulder. Pushed the guardian toward Isadora. Gryphon stumbled, but Isadora was right there to catch him. “Get back. Both of you.”
“Demet—” Isadora started.
He unstrapped the knife at his thigh and pushed the handle into Isadora’s small hands. It wasn’t much of a weapon against hell’s monsters, but it was better than nothing, and hopefully it’d give them a chance. A slight chance.
Sonofabitch. He’d thought they were fucked before? This topped that by a mile.
The black mist swirled and deepened,
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