Home > Wicked (Eternal Guardians #9)(5)

Wicked (Eternal Guardians #9)(5)
Author: Elisabeth Naughton

Bodies locked together writhed around them. Her dark hair, violet eyes, and smooth skin filled his vision. She began to move to the hypnotic beat of the pulsing music, brushing against him in the dark, and he found himself moving with her—not dancing as the others around them were doing, simply trying to keep her from getting away.

His hands drifted to the soft curve of her hips, slid around her slim, toned back, and tugged her in close. A small gasp slipped from her lips as her chest crashed into his and her feminine fingers under the long bell sleeves landed against his biceps. Beneath that thin blouse she wore, her heartbeat picked up speed until it was a whir echoing in his ears.

The air grew heavy. The beat seemed to swell. She didn’t once look away from his eyes. Only continued to hold his gaze trapped with the familiar, wicked heat of her violet irises. And even though he still wasn’t completely convinced she was her, he no longer cared where she’d come from or why she’d approached him.

She was warm. She was soft. His body was responding all on its own. He deserved a few minutes of pleasure after all the shit he’d been through. Suddenly needed it the way he needed air.

A tiny voice in the back of his head warned to be careful. That when it came to her, real or not, his senses were always impaired. That if he didn’t stay alert, she could—as his father had said time and again—be the key to his undoing. But the moment she stopped swaying, the instant she pushed to her toes, the second she fit her mouth to his... That voice completely faded into the ether.

He opened the second she kissed him. Grasped the back of her head and licked the soft seam of her lips. And when her fingers dug into his arms, when she groaned and then finally opened, he pushed his tongue into the sultry wetness of her mouth and finally tasted her.

Energy surged inside him. A scorching, combustible energy that jolted every dead nerve ending suddenly back to life.

He swept his tongue over hers. Tasted a hint of whiskey. Of Mint. Tasted apprehension, danger, and desperation all swirling together in her sensual mouth.

And overriding everything, he tasted desire. A feral, voracious craving that bubbled up from the depths of her soul. One he’d sampled before. One he’d never been able to resist. One that could finally condemn him to the darkness he’d been trying to outrun all his life.

She jerked back from his mouth and pushed out of his arms before he could take more. Chest heaving, she lifted her gaze to his. And the moment their eyes met and he saw the shock in those wide, amethyst pools, he knew.

He knew she was more than a horny female looking for a good time. Much more than a wayward Argolean. And that this—their meeting—had not happened by chance.

“Mono mia,” he whispered.

Her face paled. She stumbled, knocking into a body behind her.

He reached out to yank her back against him, but a voice rang out across the club, stopping his motion. A deep, familiar voice he was sure he’d heard before.

The female twisted toward the sound.

Zagreus shifted his gaze across the dance floor and took in the muscular, fair-haired Argonaut standing two steps up near the bar. In a rush, he remembered where he’d heard that voice. Not in the air around him but through the Fates’ mystical mirror—the pedestal basin of water the old hags used to spy on mortals from their hidden realm.

“Talisa,” the Argonaut said in a commanding tone as the music in the club disappeared and the bodies around them stopped moving. “Step away from him.”

A hush fell over the room. The Argonaut’s malevolent gaze locked on Zagreus, indicating he could see through Zagreus’s glamour.

All eyes shifted Zagreus’s way. And in the silence, the shadow energy Zagreus worked to keep locked down swirled inside, breaking his concentration.

The glamour spell he’d cast shattered. Gasps echoed as recognition dawned in the faces staring his way. Like a wave, bodies shifted back in every direction.

Horror rushed over the female’s—Talisa’s—features.

Zagreus wrapped his hand around her upper arm before she could flee, jerking her tight to his side.

She grunted and yanked back on his hold—harder than he anticipated. His grip loosened, and he realized she was stronger than she looked, gifted with some kind of extra strength, which was probably why she hadn’t been afraid to venture into this club alone.

“Talisa!” The clank of a blade being drawn echoed through the room.

Zagreus tightened his grip around the female’s arm then threw out his other hand in the direction of the stupid Argonaut already charging toward him.

The female at his side screamed, “No!”

Bodies scrambled into the shadows, clearing the dance floor. Another feminine screech echoed near the front of the club, but Zagreus didn’t bother to look that way. He focused his powers and shot a stream of energy out from his palm that surged through the space and slammed into the Argonaut’s chest, throwing him to the ground.

“You son of a bitch!” The female darted in front of him and shoved her free hand hard against Zagreus’s chest. The force was so strong, it broke Zagreus’s hold on her arm, knocking him off his feet. He sailed backward into the wall.

Cement cracked. Zagreus landed with a grunt against the floor. Plaster rained down from the damaged ceiling. As he shook the dust from his hair, his gaze caught sight of the Argonaut across the floor, writhing on the ground as the energy ricocheted through his body.

Footsteps sounded, then a female with brown hair skidded to a stop at the Argonaut’s side and dropped to her knees.

“Max,” the brunette said, reaching for his hand. “Max, focus on me.”

Max... Zagreus pushed to his feet, searching his memory for anything the Fates had said about the male.

Maximus was the Argonaut Zander’s son, a descendant of Achilles. He wasn’t a full-fledged Argonaut yet and was still in training, because...

Zagreus’s memory came rushing back.

…because he had multiple gifts the other Argonauts didn’t possess. And because the Argonauts weren’t sure they could totally trust him yet thanks to the fact he’d been raised by the evil goddess Atalanta in the bowels of the Underworld.

The female Zagreus had just kissed stood between Zagreus and the wannabe Argonaut, the Argonaut’s blade now in her hand, her deadly gaze trained on Zagreus. His focus, however, was locked on the duo at her back.

He didn’t know who the new brunette was, nor did he care. But the unstable Argonaut... He might be a useful prisoner. With his gifts bound, of course.

Zagreus stepped forward.

The violet-eyed vixen lifted the blade in her hand. “Stay back, devil.”

Not slowing, Zagreus threw out a hand. Invisible energy shot from his palm, wrapped around the blade, and ripped it from her grip. He tossed the blade across the room, out of her reach. She gasped and shuffled back, but he was already on top of her, one hand grasping her wrist to pull her toward him, the other in front of her face as he muttered the ancient words that would bind the gifts the Fates had bestowed on her.

Her struggling immediately lost over half its strength, and her features contorted in pain.

He yanked her hard against his chest and glared down at her. “Do not test me, mono mia. Or you’ll wind up like your nosey friend.”

He advanced on the injured wannabe Argonaut, dragging the female at his side with him. She tried to pull away, but he only tightened his hold and promised himself he’d deal with her later.

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