One thing Erebus could say for the Sirens—they sure made their trainees feel special. So special they couldn’t even refer to them by name when they crashed and burned and Zeus decided it was time to hunt them down and snuff them out.
Not that Erebus cared all that much. He knew his place. He was a minor god in service to Zeus only because Hades had lost him in a bet to the King of the Gods. He didn’t particularly enjoy serving, but it was better than the alternative: being decimated altogether like his kinsfolk or spending eternity suffering in the pits of Tartarus. While he’d been spared the same fate as his family thousands of years ago, his time in servitude to Hades in the Underworld had shown him just what happens to prisoners in Tartarus—at both the hands of Hades and Tartarus’s most famous prisoner: Krónos—and he had no desire to get stuck in that living hell as an inmate himself.
A flash of blonde hair to his left caught his attention as he ran through the dark forest. His target—Trainee #429745—was close, but then he knew that already. His god powers were strongest in darkness, and his hearing, smell, even sight were amplified when night disadvantaged other hunters. He could hear her labored breaths echoing in his ears, could smell the lemony scent of her skin in his nostrils, but seeing the flash of long blonde hair had surprised him.
He hadn’t looked at her picture before he’d left Olympus for this hunt. He’d memorized her trainee number, read through her file and made mental notes of her trainers’ mostly average comments about her hand-to-hand combat and warfare skills. Had questioned the stupid guards she’d overpowered at the gates of Olympus when she’d fled, and who were now suffering their own just fates. And he’d located the portal she’d used outside the gates to cross into this forest in the human realm. But he’d purposefully not looked at her image.
Putting a face to a number gave his prey a human quality he didn’t need to concern himself with. His orders from Zeus were clear: “She failed her last Siren test and ran. Hunt her down and bring her back to me.” It was not Erebus’s place to question Zeus’s command. The King of the Gods could have ordered Erebus to kill the trainee—which he’d done in the past and would do again when called upon because it was his duty—but Zeus hadn’t. That made Erebus’s job this time a helluva lot easier, and for that he was thankful.
But that flash of blonde...
He’d seen it somewhere before. Or hair like it. Not a white blonde. Not a honey blonde. Not even a multicolored blonde like many of the Sirens sported on Olympus. This hair had been a golden blonde so bright it had looked like a gilded waterfall in the darkness of the forest when she’d whipped past him through the trees.
Not important.
What she looked like had no impact on his current assignment. Clearing his mind, he shifted direction and picked up his speed, heading toward the flash of blonde he’d seen. Her labored breaths grew louder. Her scent stronger. Ahead, that golden blonde flashed again, whipping behind her as she turned to look into the dark forest at her back then angled forward again and ran faster.
Leaves and pine needles slapped him in the face. The forest floor was damp and soft beneath his boots. She wasn’t particularly fast for a nymph, but she zigzagged around trees and brush quite a bit, changing direction so much it was hard to anticipate her next move. He’d researched this forest in preparation for this hunt, though, and he had a good idea where she was headed. Instead of chasing her maze of steps, he shifted to his right and ran at an angle away from her.
He calculated distance and speed in his mind. The ground rose and fell in the mountainous terrain. Somewhere above, an owl hooted and the whir of bat wings echoed like background music to his steps. When he’d run far enough, he cut back to his left. The terrain gave way to a small clearing between the mountains. Just as he predicted, she came tearing down the hillside to his left and emerged from the trees, that blonde hair a blur around her face as she repeatedly glanced over her shoulder to check his position.
Victory flared hot in his veins. He increased his speed and shot into the clearing at her right. Her surprised gasp met his ears when she spotted him, but she didn’t have time to react. Lowering his shoulder, he slammed into her, knocking her off her feet to fly through the air ten yards before hitting the meadow grasses with a grunt.
He slowed his steps as he approached and looked down. She groaned and rolled onto her side away from him in the grass. That oddly familiar golden hair covered her face, triggering a sense of déjà vu, but he ignored it. He ignored everything except what he was here to do.
His pulse slowed now that he’d captured his prey. “Your fun’s over now, nymph.” Leaning forward, he reached for her arm. “On your feet.”
His hand closed around her biceps. She still wore the typical training attire: knee-high kick-ass boots, slim black stretch pants that molded to her muscular legs, and a fitted black tank that showcased her curves and plump breasts. Heat from her bare skin burned into his palm as he wrapped his hand around her upper arm, but she didn’t immediately climb to her feet, which irritated him. And something about her scent... It was warm and familiar, like a summer breeze blowing through a lemon grove at dusk.
Like a lemon grove at dusk? He gave his head a swift shake, knowing the hours he’d spent hunting her were catching up with him. Fuck him. He was the god of darkness. It was in his DNA to be moody and short-tempered, not romantic and idealistic. The sooner he got this insolent nymph back to Olympus, the sooner he could catch a few hours of shut-eye to recharge his dwindling energy reserves. He might be a god, but he still had needs. And after he dumped Trainee #429745 in Zeus’s lap, he needed to gear himself up to instruct the newest class of Siren recruits. The ones who were even more inept than the last set Zeus had sent him.
He was tired, grouchy, and in need of a little R and R before he had to deal with more bratty Siren trainees who thought they were all the shit. The fact this one was causing him so much trouble didn’t do a thing to ease his perpetual bad mood.
“I said your fun is over, nymph.” He jerked on her arm.
A blur of golden hair whipped in front of him, and he saw the briefest flash of silver in that blur. But he had no time to react. Hot metal pierced the flesh of his upper arm and stabbed deep before his brain clued in to what the silver meant.
Pain ripped through his arm. His hand reflexively released her, and he jerked back. The recruit yanked the blade of a dagger free from his arm, lurched to her feet, and faced him with both malice and fury in her brilliant blue eyes. “Wrong, asshole. I say when it’s over.”
Her features registered the instant she found her footing, and in a flash he realized where he’d seen that unique blonde hair before, where he’d smelled that exotic, hypnotic scent.
During her one-on-one training sessions.
During their highly specialized time alone together.
During her extremely erotic, immensely pleasurable seduction sessions, directed by him.
Seraphine. Sera. His Sera. He’d been her seduction trainer twelve—no, eighteen months ago.
He blinked, barely believing what he was seeing. She looked different from what he remembered. Every other time he’d been near her she’d been dolled up with sexy makeup, her hair perfectly styled, her voluptuous body wrapped in whatever arousing attire he’d picked out for her. Now she looked more like a warrior than a Barbie doll, but he still recognized her. Knew not just from her scent and that unique hair, but from the way his blood heated and rushed straight into his groin as a rash of memories of her wicked hands, her sinful mouth and tight body consuming his flooded his mind.
All nymphs were easy to train in the Siren ways of seduction, but this one had been a natural. She’d been able to suck and fuck better than any other recruit he’d worked with in his last hundred years serving Zeus as a Siren trainer, and that was saying a lot, considering Zeus handpicked the females he wanted in his Siren Order from across every race and realm.
The pain in his arm faded from his mind. In her familiar eyes he saw a flash of recognition that pushed him a step closer and caused him to reach out for her. But just as his fingers grazed her skin, she kicked out with her leg and nailed him in the side of his head with the toe of her kick-ass boot.
The force of the blow knocked him off his feet and set him flailing toward the grassy meadow. Pain spiraled up his spine as he hit the hard earth and grunted. Opening his eyes, he blinked several times, shocked that she’d gotten the jump on him. Blonde hair flashed in his line of sight once more, followed by the icy glare of her crystal blue eyes as she leaned over him with her blade held high.
And holy shit, that was hot. Hotter than he ever remembered her being.
“If you think this is fun, god,” she said in a low voice, “then you’re more useless than I thought.”
Oh, but this was fun. Staring up into her challenging gaze was more entertainment than he’d had in months—no, years. And anticipating what the little vixen would do next didn’t just fuel the flames already rising inside him; it made him hard as stone.
* * * *
Of all the hunters she’d expected Zeus to send after her, Erebus had been the last.
Sera probably should have struck while he was down, but something had held her back. She’d told herself it was because he was a minor god, which meant he was immortal. Any further attack on her part wouldn’t kill him, only enrage him, and she didn’t want to tangle with the god of darkness out here in the dark. So instead she’d decided to take advantage of his shocked expression and ran. But that niggling voice in the back of her whispered that wasn’t the real reason she’d held back.
She shook the voice away as she pushed her legs harder through the dark forest. Erebus was nothing to her now but one of Zeus’s henchmen. She didn’t care what her stupid heart had once felt for him. She only cared about putting as much distance between her and the asshole as she could now.
Her muscles burned as she darted around trees and brush, over downed logs and across a narrow stream. He would chase her, she knew. He would probably catch her. Her only hope at this point was to make sure he didn’t catch her with it.
A searing pain tightened her lungs as she slowed her steps in the darkness and scanned the forest. Dried leaves and fallen twigs crunched under her boots as she searched for something—anything—that would help her. Panic spread through every cell, and she started to run again, squinting to see, hoping—
Her boots skidded to a stop when she spotted the decaying log lying across the forest floor ten yards to her right. Rushing in that direction, she dropped to her knees near the base and felt around, searching for any kind of hole. The instant she found one, she silently rejoiced, pulled the medallion from her pocket, and shoved it deep into the log where no one would accidentally find it.
Pounding footsteps echoed through the silent forest at her back. Her adrenaline surged.
She lurched to her feet and tore off to her left, zigzagging around trees and brush. The medallion didn’t look like much—a coin slightly smaller than the palm of her hand, stamped with the imprint of Heracles and surrounded by the traditional Greek key design. Even if some hapless person did manage to find it in that log, she hoped it would be so covered in dirt and grime that they wouldn’t know what it was. But Erebus absolutely could not find it because one look and he would know. He’d know the power a person could wield with it, and she knew without a doubt he’d take it right back to Zeus.
Her heart pounded, feeling as if it had taken up permanent residence in her throat. Sweat slicked her skin even though the fall night was cool and damp. She ran harder, faster, intent on getting as far from that log as possible. She couldn’t go to the half-breed ruins now as she’d planned. She couldn’t risk Erebus following her there. Couldn’t risk his interfering with her only chance to contact her friend Elysia in Argolea.
Something hard slammed into her from the side, knocking the air out of her lungs and the thoughts from her mind. She grunted as her body sailed to the right and smacked against the hard earth. A groan tore from her throat. Pain spiraled through every cell in her body, and her vision wavered.
She rolled to her side. Groaned. Tried to get up. Tried to find her feet so she could run. But he was on her before she could even push up on her hands.
His big body straddled hers, and he dropped to his knees, his massive tree-trunk-like thighs pressing against her ribs. She lashed out with her hands to claw him off her but he captured her wrists easily and pinned them to the ground over her head. “Enough!”
Hearing his voice so close colored everything in red. She kicked out with her legs and thrashed from side to side, trying to throw him off, but he was too strong. Her hair whipped across her face as she fought harder, not wanting to hear his deep voice, now wanting to feel his hard body against hers, not wanting him ever again.
He squeezed his thighs so tight against her ribs, she gasped, and his fingertips dug into the skin of her wrists until pain shot straight to her brain, slowing her fight. “I said enough, nymph.”
Breathing hard, she glared up at him through wisps of sweaty hair, hating that he was here now. Hating even more that he was just as handsome and enticing as he’d been a year and a half ago when she’d seen him across the Siren training field for the first time. Jet black hair, dark eyes, mahogany skin, and a body that was an almost seven-foot wall of solid muscle.
She knew those muscles intimately. Had traced them with her hands and fingertips and tongue during their steamy sessions when he’d been her seduction trainer. Only for her it hadn’t just been seduction. Because of those erotic nights and the things he’d made her feel, he’d ruined her ability to think about or even look at another guy without remembering his whispered words against her overheated flesh and the way he’d been able to make her melt with just one carnal look. And then he’d cast her aside as if she’d never meant a single thing to him at all.
Which she hadn’t, she realized as she glared up at his narrowed black-as-night eyes. He hadn’t even used her damn name when he’d ordered her to stop fighting. Knowing him, he probably didn’t even recognize her.
And why would he? He’d fucked hundreds, probably thousands of trainees in his time serving Zeus as one of the Sirens’ trainers. She’d been nothing special to him. She’d just been the stupid nymph who’d foolishly believed every bullshit lie the gods—him included—had fed her.
Fury coiled tight in her veins, and her chest rose and fell with her quick breaths, but she didn’t fight. Didn’t look away either. He might have caught her, but he didn’t have the medallion. And the second he loosened his grip, she’d be gone.
“That’s better,” he said, his voice losing that edge of rage she’d heard when he’d pinned her to the ground. “I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours tracking you, and I’m tired.”
She didn’t buy that for a second. Not that he hadn’t spent that amount of time tracking her—he was a god known for hunting down Zeus’s most menacing foes—but that he was tired. He was a fucking god. Gods didn’t get tired. They were Energizer bunnies raring to go at the slightest provocation, as she’d learned multiple times when he’d fucked her until she’d passed out.
He lifted his weight off her and hauled her to her feet with one hand wrapped tight around her biceps. “Get up.”
She stumbled. Gasped as he jerked her up and against the hard wall of his chest. Tried to push away. But he kept her close so she was forced to inhale his natural badass scent of snapdragon skull flowers, leather, and hints of cognac.
He glanced around the dark forest as if searching for something. Or someone.
With his hand still wrapped tightly around her upper arm, he turned to the left and hauled her with him. “This way.”
His legs were way longer than hers, and she had to hustle her steps to keep up so she didn’t trip and fall. And as she did, she couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t searched her for the medallion. And why she wasn’t already dead.
She wasn’t stupid enough to ask those questions, but she wasn’t exactly upset over that fact, either. Since he hadn’t killed her, it meant she still had a chance. Her mind spun with every step, her eyes scanning the darkness for something—anything—that would offer the opportunity to flee.
They reached the top of the rise, and he slowed his steps. Light was already rising on the eastern horizon, just enough for her to see the massive lake surrounding a small island housing some kind of crumbling structure far below. “There it is.”
“There what is?” she mumbled, glancing around the dark forest and the steep mountains that rose out of the crystal blue water.
“Where we’re going.”
He pulled her with him down the hillside toward the lake.
“Wait.” She grunted as her boot hit a rock, and she stumbled, hoping he wasn’t taking her where she suddenly thought he was taking her. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can be alone.”
His hand tightened around her arm, and his gaze drifted down to her. But this time when he looked at her, his eyes were no longer enraged. They glowed with an erotic light. One she recognized well. One that sent a new kind of fear and anger swimming in her veins.
“I’ve got plans for you, Seraphine. Big, hard, very wicked plans.”
Shit, she was right. And the fact he’d used her name meant she was in serious trouble because this male knew her every weakness.
Unless some kind of miracle happened in the next few minutes, there was no way she could hold out against what he had planned next.