The wannabe Argonaut stilled and looked up with wide eyes as they approached. Quietly, he whispered, “Elysia, get the hell out of here now.”
The brunette froze where she knelt next to the Argonaut and turned wide, chocolate eyes Zagreus’s way.
Elysia...
Zagreus knew that name as well. She was the queen’s daughter. The heir to the throne of Argolea. And the female Zeus’s Sirens had abducted and lost due to a different meddling Argonaut.
A smile curled one side of Zagreus’s lips as he looked down at the pair. Oh, his day was getting better by the second. These two would make prime prisoners he could ransom to the highest bidders.
He lifted his free hand and was just about to bind the Argonaut’s gifts when the sound of wood splintering and glass breaking filled the club, followed by growls. Familiar growls Zagreus would recognize anywhere.
Two satyrs moved out of the shadows to Zagreus’s left. Ahead, a pack of satyrs spilled into the club.
“Skata,” the female in his grip whispered, tensing beside him.
Zagreus’s jaw clenched down hard. He glanced at the duo near his feet then back to the beasts rushing forward. He’d have to let go of the female at his side to grab the prisoners on the floor, and he wasn’t about to let go of her for anything. From his peripheral vision, he spotted one of the satyrs from the shadows lift a blade and hurl it through the air.
He was out of time. He had but a split second to decide whose future to change forever.
Chapter Three
Max’s eyes flew wide when Zagreus poofed out of the club in a plume of smoke, taking Talisa with him.
He barely had time to wonder where they went, though. The thunder of hooves charging was too close. He shifted so he could see what was coming at them.
Seven, eight… No, ten satyrs.
All stocky and hulking, with shaved heads and thick beards. They wore dark pants to cover their grotesque legs, but their open leather dusters showcased their hairy chests and bulging muscles. And each one held a weapon—a blade, a spear, a mace—intent on doing serious damage.
Shit. This was not good. Not good at all.
Max tensed and tried like hell to make his muscles work. That energy blast had done something to him. His arms and legs weren’t working right, and he knew even if he could find a way to stand, he’d never be able to lift a blade.
“Lys,” he rasped, fighting to sit up. “Lys, you have to get out of here.” He managed to get his hands in front of him. “You have to get home.”
“What? No. I’m not leaving you.” She pushed against his back to help him up and reached for his blade, which Zagreus had wrenched from Talisa and thrown to the ground.
“You have to! You have to go now.” Somehow he found the strength to bring his pinky fingers together, opening a portal. Bright light filled the room. The satyrs growled and moved faster. “Go now and get help!”
Elysia glanced up at the monsters bearing down on them, muttered, “Oh gods.” Slapping the handle of the blade against Max’s chest, she pushed to her feet. “Stay alive, you hear me? Stay alive, and we’ll come for you. I promise.”
She squeezed his shoulder once then let go and jumped through the portal.
As soon as she was clear, Max jerked his hands apart. The portal disappeared, leaving behind darkness and a sizzle of energy that echoed like fading fireworks.
“Stupid move, Argonaut.” A satyr knocked the blade away from Max.
Max grunted and tried to reach for the weapon, but another closed a meaty hand around his arm and wrenched hard, jerking Max to his feet.
He grimaced at the pain rushing through his shoulder and torso. His legs nearly went out from under him, but he managed to find his footing and take a little of the weight off his arm.
“Not as strong as he looks, eh?” the satyr holding him said to another at his side. “Zagreus flattened his ass pretty easy.”
“All those Argonauts are the same.” The other satyr kicked his blade away. “Pussies.” He looked toward a satyr stalking toward them from the shadows, this one bigger and more muscular than the rest, his red beard hanging halfway down his chest. “What should we do with him?”
The big satyr stopped in front of Max. He was roughly Max’s height, but out-weighed Max by at least fifty pounds. Black eyes narrowed on Max’s face as he studied Max’s features, and though Max tried to call up his gift, it wasn’t working thanks to Zagreus’s energy blast. His body was overwhelmed still trying to heal from that.
“The prince knew him,” the big satyr said, the one who was clearly the leader, his eyes fixed on Max as if trying to see through him. “He wanted this one for a prisoner.”
“Argonauts don’t make good prisoners.” The satyr holding Max upright shifted his grip on Max’s arm, sending another shot of pain through Max’s flesh. Max ground his teeth to keep from making a sound. “The last one Zagreus tried to hold caused a giant fucking mess.”
They were talking about Nick. The leader of the half-breeds, the Argonaut Demetrius’s brother, and—through a strange twist of fate—the evil Titan Krónos’s bastard son. The one Zagreus had thought would grant him the power to release the Titans from Tartarus so he could start the war to end all wars.
Max forcibly relaxed his muscles even though doing so caused him more pain. He didn’t want to give these fuckers any reason to think he had some kind of connection to Nick, even though—technically—he did.
“The last one wasn’t really an Argonaut. This one, though…” The big satyr grasped Max by the jaw and stared hard into his eyes. A foul stench wafted from his body, one that made Max want to gag. “If the prince was interested in him, it means he’s important. What did he tell us about that dead bitch Atalanta and the kid she had with her in the Underworld?”
Max stiffened.
“That she stole him from an Argonaut,” the satyr to Max’s left said.
“That’s right,” the big one answered, not moving back or letting go of Max’s face. “And that he had some kind of unique powers all the gods wanted. He’d be about this one’s age.”
Max didn’t dare move. Didn’t want to do anything to give himself away. But his heart was already doing it for him. Pounding hard and fast against his chest. So hard he was sure these beasts could hear it.
“Yeah,” the satyr said with a malicious grin. “That’s what I thought.”
Shoving Max’s face aside, the satyr looked to the one holding Max’s arm. “If this is him, we’ll find out and use his powers for our purposes then make a pretty penny when we’re tired of him.”
“And if he’s not him?” the second satyr asked.
The big one smirked. “Then we’ll kill him and leave his carcass for the vultures.” He turned for the front of the club. “Bring him. It’s time for us to ride.”
Talisa stumbled as uneven dirt formed beneath her boots. The death grip Zagreus had on her biceps kept her from falling face-first into the ground.
She looked up and around, trying to identify their location. A fading forest loomed, growing darker by the second, made up mostly of towering conifers and a few ash and willow and oak.