Urian drew up short as he entered Apollymi’s palace and found the one thing he’d never found before.

A stranger.

“Who are you?”

The tall, exceptionally thin woman turned around. She was breathtaking. And dressed in a most peculiar fashion—a short green chiton similar to what a man might wear, cut just above her shapely knees. A long, brown, finely woven chalmys was carefully draped around her thin shoulders and pinned with an ornate pearl-and-gold fibula that formed a double bow. Her golden-blond hair was intricately braided and coiled around her head in a style befitting a goddess.

By her grace, height, and beauty, Urian might have mistaken her for an Apollite. Except she didn’t have fangs. Nor were her eyes brown. Rather, they were a vivid, exceptional green that were more akin to those of his aunt Artemis.

Or at least that was what he’d been told about her.

And now that he thought about it, this woman reeked of Greek divinity. To such an extent that he was surprised Apollymi wasn’t out here trying to locate her position with one of the three-headed dogs she used in her palace as guards.

Or a few sniffing Charonte. Normally such a powerful presence in their midst would warrant at least Xedrix out here to investigate it.

So why was this Greek maiden in Apollymi’s Stygian palace? Holding a war bow? And wearing running sandals in the garb of a boy?

Nothing about this made a bit of sense to him.

“You haven’t answered my question.” He used a sharper tone this time to let her know how dire her situation was.

Her brow arched, she raked him with a hostile glare. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

That audacious growl set off his own temper. “I’m not the one trespassing.”

“Neither am I.”

Yeah, right. No Greek belonged here and he knew it.

Hissing, he teleported to stand in front of her. “I would beg to differ.”

She smirked. “Beg all you want. Your theatrics leave me cold.”

Before he could respond, Xedrix appeared beside them. His mottled blue skin seemed darker than normal as he glared down at them and tsked like an irate parent. “Do not try the patience of the Destroyer, children. She’s in no mood for your foolery.”

He snatched them both by the arm and dragged them down the hall to Apollymi’s garden, where the goddess waited in her spot by her mirror.

Urian locked his jaw so as not to protest the harsh grip, and noticed that the girl did the same.

Apollymi gasped as she saw how they were being treated. “Xedrix! Release them!”

He did so immediately. “Forgive me, akra. They were quarreling.”

Rising from her seat, she shook her head. “So you beat them?”

The demon shrugged with an unfathomable nonchalance given the anger in Apollymi’s eyes. “I wanted to eat them instead, but thought you might take more issue with that. This seemed the better option.”

She sighed heavily, as if curbing a desire to skin her favorite demon. “Fine.” She waved the demon aside with her hand, then came forward to address Urian and the girl. “I suppose it’s time the two of you met, as you were bound to cross paths at some point. Urian, this is my Abadonna, Katra. Katra, meet Urian, the son of Stryker—leader of my Spathi army.”

Urian’s nostrils twitched at the introduction. “She reeks of Artemis.” This must have been the stench he’d smelled earlier.

Katra bristled. “I’m one of her servants, and you could use a bath yourself, buddy. How many days have you been sweating in that training armor, anyway? You should make a point of meeting the goddess of hygiene and making friends. Really.” She pressed her hand daintily to her nose to emphasize her insult.

He narrowed his gaze dangerously. “Why is she here, akra?”

With an uncharacteristic glint in her pale eyes, Apollymi watched them curiously. “She’s a spy for me.”

Urian gaped.

The wide-eyed look on Katra’s face said that those words were news to her as well, but Urian wasn’t dumb enough to contradict a highly volatile goddess.

Even so, Katra cocked her head to study him with the same curiosity someone might use with an insect. “I’ve never seen an Apollite before.” She lifted her hand. “May I?”

Offended that she’d treat him like an experiment, he lifted his chin to protest. “I’m not a freak.”

“I know. But you are different from anyone I’ve ever seen before, so I’m curious.”

He glanced toward Apollymi.

“Show Katra what the bastard did to your people. Let her see what an animal does to his own son and grandchildren. Help her understand why she should hate him and never trust Artemis, who has turned her back on you. You are the goddess’s nephew, after all. Yet she does nothing for her own blood. Let Katra see how much love the cold bitch has in her heart for her family.”

Katra passed a peeved stare at her but didn’t speak a word of contradiction.

Opening his mouth, Urian allowed the girl to examine his fangs. Though the term “girl” was probably uncharitable of him. Most likely, she was close to his true age and yet she looked to be a teen, whereas because he was an Apollite, he appeared a full-grown man in his mid-twenties.

She gently fingered the sharp tips of his fangs. “Do they hurt?”

“Nay. I’ve never had any other kind of teeth.”

“And you don’t eat food or drink anything other than blood?”

He shook his head.

She fretted. “How awful.”

“You don’t miss what you don’t know.”

“Not true. I miss my father every day of my life, yet I’ve never known him. And I’m forever curious about every detail of him and his life.”

That was different, he supposed. Missing a father wasn’t the same as being forced to drink blood. He couldn’t imagine a life where he didn’t know who his father was. Or not seeing him every day.

There was nothing in life more important to him than his family. And in particular, he valued his parents. Both of them.

But all in all, Katra was an odd bit of fluff, with some rather peculiar thoughts. Urian scowled at her. “And I prefer not to torture myself with thoughts over what I don’t have or what I’m missing. Life’s too willing to do it for me.”

“Dark much?”

He snorted at her sarcasm. “Hard to be light and fluffy when you’re banished to a hell realm.”

Katra paused to consider that. “You’ve never seen daylight, have you?”

He glanced past her to Apollymi, who watched them with a disturbing intensity. How he wished he could read her thoughts. Or Katra’s at the moment. “Only through the goddess’s mirror.”

“Wow. I’m sorry.” Katra appeared to actually mean it.

Urian shrugged before he spoke an absolute truth. “Don’t be. I’d rather not see daylight than be stuck serving Artemis.”

Katra gaped at his insult. “Ouch! I can tell we’re going to get along not at all.”

“Fine with me.” He turned toward Apollymi and offered her a quick bow. “If you’ll excuse me, akra?”

Katra watched Urian leave and shook her head.

“Is something wrong?” Apollymi asked.

“Why didn’t you tell him we’re cousins?”

“For the same reason no one needs to know you’re my granddaughter, Katra. Of secret things, we are silence. As much as I hate your mother, we have to protect Artemis’s reputation in order to protect my son. Therefore, Strykerius is never to know that you’re Apollo’s niece.”

And still there was another matter that disturbed her as Katra stared after the peculiar Apollite who’d left them.

“For goodness’ sake, child. What else is on your mind?”

Katra tilted her head. “Why does Urian look so much like my father?”

Apollymi scoffed. “They say Urian is the image of Strykerius.”

She scoffed at that explanation. “I’ve seen Stryker. Aside from his blond hair and carriage, there’s only passing similarity between them. But I’ve seen my mother watching after my father enough to know his every feature. While I’ve never seen Acheron in the flesh, I know the line of his jaw, the shape of his nose and eyes. The fine arch of his brows. And he and Urian could be twins. The only difference is that Urian’s skin is a bit darker in tone.”

“Because his mother’s Egyptian.”

The news shocked Katra, who’d had no idea of Urian’s real mother. “Pardon?”

Apollymi froze as she realized the unintentional slip she’d made. But it was easy to do. She spent so much time alone that she wasn’t used to having to guard her tongue or censor herself. And here she was telling Katra to be careful …

“Nothing. Just remember what I said. Speak of nothing said here. Keep to yourself.”

“Believe me, I’m good at that. I have to be to protect my matisera from the other gods.”

Apollymi pulled Katra against her and hugged her. “You should let me kill Artemis. For all our sakes. Cut her throat while she sleeps.”

“Yaya! I can’t do that! I do love her.”

Those words wrested a deep-seated groan from her. “Why?” she groused. “She’s completely unlovable.”

“Not to me. Besides, there are many who think the same of you and it’s completely untrue. And speaking of which, I need to get back before she misses me. She’ll die if she ever learns I come here to see you.”

“Good! Should I send her a basket to thank her for your visits?”

“Yaya!” Katra huffed, then kissed her cheek. “Take care and I’ll see you soon.”

Apollymi let her go reluctantly. She still couldn’t believe that Katra was real. That her precious son had fathered a child without anyone knowing. Had she not seen the girl with her own eyes and held her in her own arms, she wouldn’t have believed it. But there was no denying this truth.

Katra was Apostolos’s daughter.

If only Katra would renounce her loyalty to her mother. So long as she remained tied to two pantheons, Katra was a danger to both. She could be used against either side.

Just like Urian’s real mother. Had Bethany not inadvertently given her protection over to the Greeks because she loved Prince Styxx, the Atlanteans would have destroyed the Greek army that first day in battle and won their war against Greece before it started.

Then Princess Ryssa wouldn’t have been given to Apollo to win his favor, and she and her son wouldn’t have died, thus causing the curse for Stryker and his people.

More to the point, had Bethany not had divided loyalties Apostolos wouldn’t have been slaughtered. And Atlantis wouldn’t have been destroyed.

Divided loyalties could never be trusted. She only trusted Strykerius now because his father had forever severed their bond when he’d cursed Strykerius’s children to die. There was no repairing that with mere words. Strykerius would never forgive Apollo for his damnation of their innocence.

She would make sure of it …