Page 44 of Curses & Keys (Curses & Gods #1)

PHAEDRA

M y cheeks are stiff with dried tears when I wake, and my body is completely entangled with Hawthorne’s.

I must have turned to him for comfort. Last night’s dreams and nightmares took a harsh toll on me, the past and present colliding in a storm of memories and fears.

Guilt from the past. And the present. Worry.

Last time, I lost my sister. Who will I lose this time?

Stuck in limbo for the last week, the minutes and hours ticking by have driven me crazy. My mind continues to go round and round, trying to figure out what the gods could possibly want from me.

Lying in bed won’t solve anything. I glance out the glass patio doors and realize the sun is rising.

Time to get up. Unentangling my legs from his, I shift, preparing to move and realize his hand is on my arm.

Rising to my elbow so I can stare at him, I wait, breath held, for his eyes to open.

My heart beats fast, but the seconds pass by slowly. A minute. Two.

“Hawthorne, can you hear me?” I ask, praying for the hundredth time to hear the rich timbre of his voice. “Did my tears and cries wake you?”

His smooth expression remains unchanged, and I close my eyes as my hopes are crushed. Again. I bend down and kiss him, then ease myself out of bed.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I tell him, my voice breaking as the sobs build in my throat. “Then we’ll head outside.”

Unable to look at him, I walk away, taking refuge in the shower where I can let go and he won’t hear me.

At least, I think he hears me. Maybe he doesn’t, but the healer told me to talk to him, so she must believe it too.

Weary from worry, I lean my forehead against the cool tile and let the tears fall.

After the council’s broadcasts, I reached out to some contacts to see if they could find some answers for me. I need to know if they’re alive. I glance at my watch. That was eleven hours ago, and I’ve received no texts. A heavy sigh escapes my lips.

Determined not to drown in my own pity, I finish my shower and head to the kitchen for something to eat.

I grab some toast and peanut butter. While I’m munching, my eyes drift to the empty tonic bottle on the counter.

Should I call the healer and get some more?

It couldn’t hurt, right? Then, I could ask her how long is too long. I’ve given it a week.

I pick up the phone and realize it’s one a.m. in North Carolina. Too early. Charlie’s cranky enough without waking him. I’ll wait. Besides, it’s time to get Hawthorne up and outside for his “therapy.”

Minutes later, I’m wheeling him into the backyard. Clouds obscure most of the sun this morning, but the cooler breeze brushing against his skin has the same effect. I leave him there and grab my laptop from the couch.

“Might as well use the time to find the most likely places for the panels,” I inform him, my voice light and cheerful.

“It would be nice if you were here to help me.” Pausing, I bring up Horse Browser.

The best academic research browser, in my opinion.

“Six gods. I’m glad it’s not all of them.

Demeter will probably be the hardest. There were a lot of temples dedicated to her. ”

Diving into the results, I realize I underestimated the passage of time. “Most of the sanctuaries dedicated to Demeter and her daughter Persephone are gone.” I click on the various links. “Ruins. All of them. Nothing left.”

Disappointed, I keep searching. “Looks like the best one is on the island of Naxos. There are a few walls and columns left. Not much, but it’s our best shot.” I spin the screen around to show him. “What do you think?”

“Glad you agree,” I say with a chuckle as a drop of rain falls on my forehead. Quickly placing the laptop on his lap, I wheel him around and head back inside. I grimace. I hate to put him back in that bed. “Let’s do this together, shall we?”

I roll him over to the dining table and grab the seat beside him. “Perfect.” Then I put the laptop where he can see it. “Next up, Apollo. Hmm. Search results show the temple in Bassae is the best preserved, but it’s in the middle of a restoration. Doesn’t feel right.”

“Delos is a possibility,” I murmur, pointing to the screen. “There are still some structures standing.” Something catches my eye. “Interesting. Both Apollo and his sister Artemis were born on this island. Maybe they combined their quest. I’ll dig into Artemis next.”

I raise my head, and my neck protests. With a frown, I pick up my phone and notice six hours have gone by. “Damn. I’m so sorry. You’re probably tired of that chair, aren’t you?” Hopping up, I wheel him over to the bed and get him more comfortable, then grab my phone.

Phaedra: Hey, it’s Phaedra. Will you send me the number of the healer?

Charlie: Glad to know you’re alive. 39 343 555 5555

Charlie: BTW. Mathias is looking for you. Said the phones were tapped. Guess you know. Is this your new number?

Inhaling sharply, I slowly let the air out at the news. Thank the goddess.

Phaedra: Yes. Jamison?? Gatlin??

Charlie: Mathias didn’t say, and his old number isn’t working. I could reach out to some contacts.

Phaedra: I’ve got someone else on it.

Charlie: OK, let me know if you need anything.

I set the phone on the table and plop down onto the sofa, blowing out a relieved breath.

If one of them is alive, I’m hoping the other two made it out too.

Is it a bad sign that Mathias is the one searching for me, not Jamison?

I wish I knew. On one hand, I’m sure Jamison is catching hell from the council right now. But if he…

Lost in thought, it takes me a second to realize someone’s in the room with us. Without thinking, I pull the gun from my back and fire. Damn it, I missed. I scramble closer to Hawthorne and raise the gun again.

“That was a little too close,” a cool voice says from the corner of the room. “It’s Mathias.”

It could be a trick. I swing my gun in his direction. “Step into the light.”

Tall, dark, and handsome steps forward, and I blink at the sight of him.

Gone is the sophisticated nerd with glasses.

A dark and deadly warrior stands in his place.

Black fatigues, chest strapped with two wicked knives, and a gun in his hand.

But it’s not the clothing or weapons that make him appear more lethal.

It’s the hard look in his intense eyes and the readiness of his stance. This is a man who’s seen battle.

I lower my gun and walk over to him. “Tell me you’re real.”

He takes the gun from my hand and lays it on the table. “I’m real.” His eyes soften as his finger sweeps back the hair on my face and tucks it behind my ear. “I’ve been searching for you. Everywhere. This was my ‘Hail Mary.’”

I swallow. He probably means Hawthorne, not me, but nobody has ever cared enough to search. His words break the dam holding me back. The overwhelming emotions I’ve felt this last week, worrying about Hawthorne and them, hit me like a sledgehammer. I wonder if he’ll mind.

Throwing caution to the wind, I lean into his hard body and wrap my arms tightly around him. Happy he’s alive and here with me. “Mathias.” My voice hitches with emotion.

Strong arms circle and hold me close. I bury my face into his chest and breathe in the scent of his familiar cologne.

Vampires don’t have a scent associated with them.

I guess it’s because they don’t have magic per se.

Speed, incredible strength, compulsion, and rumor has it, other mind abilities, but no magic.

The scent soothes me. Fills the cracks in my armor.

Needing to know, I tilt my head back. “Jamison and Gatlin?”

There’s the slightest compression of his lips, and my heart sinks.

“Jamison was hurt pretty badly,” he tells me. I grip his shirt tighter, and he raises a hand to cover mine. “He’s slowly recovering. Gatlin was in the air when everything exploded. He’s fine.” His gaze darts to Hawthorne. “What happened to him? Why isn’t he moving?”

Relief fills me. “Thank the goddess.” I ease out of his arms and pick my gun up from the table, tuck it back into my waistband, then go on to explain what happened in the temple.

“We found another panel, but Hephaestus didn’t make it easy on us.

Unfortunately, the trial depleted Hawthorne’s magic.

He’s been like this ever since. I was going to call the healer again today. ”

Mathias shoves a hand through his silky ink-colored hair. “What healer?”

“Her name is Arlie. Friend of Charlie’s,” I reply, summarizing her diagnosis. “I’ve been doing everything she said—talking to Hawthorne, taking him outside for nature therapy, touching him.” I reach out and grab Hawthorne’s hand in mine. “There’s been some muscle movement, but that’s all.”

Mathias looks at me sharply. “I see.”

Uncomfortable with the expression in his eyes, I babble on.

“I tried to reach all three of you numerous times. When I realized the phones must have been hacked or whatever, I didn’t know what to do.

In his vulnerable state, I didn’t want to move him.

If one of those groups caught up to us, he would be defenseless.

Plus, I wasn’t sure where to go. This was the closest safe house to Athens.

I got a new phone and contacted a friend in London to see if you all were alive.

” My voice hitches at that last statement.

He reaches out and lifts my chin. “You did everything right. This is my fault. I relied on the beacon in the laptop and your phones to track you. It was stupid. I know things can go sideways in a hurry. It’s my fault you didn’t have another way to contact us. I’m sorry.”

Astonished, I place a reassuring hand on his chest as I stare up at him. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I don’t blame you.”

His eyes drop to my hand, and with a blush, I remove it. Why do I feel this need to keep touching him?

“I’m not used to being responsible for someone else. It has me rattled.”

“You eventually get used to it,” he assures me, turning toward Hawthorne. “I need to see if I can get into his head.” He pauses. “You might want to look away.”

My brow furrows. What is he planning to do? I walk around the bed to get a better angle.

Mathias bends over, turning Hawthorne’s head toward me.

Dark eyes stare at me with a question in their depths, but I don’t know what he’s asking until two fangs appear.

Oh. I give him a slight nod and watch as he sinks his teeth into Hawthorne’s neck.

His eyes turn pitch black. My pulse picks up as I watch his mouth moving against Hawthorne’s burnished skin.

This has to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Makes me want to bare my neck to him.

Mathias raises his head and licks Hawthorne’s neck, closing the wounds. “He’s in there. Some sort of peaceful setting, from what I could see in his mind. I told him you were waiting for him. That we needed him to return. His level of awareness increased.”

My gaze drops to Hawthorne. “You think it will work?”

“Only time will tell,” Mathias murmurs. “Did this happen at the temple?” He lifts a strand of Hawthorne’s white-streaked hair.

His words. “Yes. Can you get into anyone’s mind when you drink from them?” I ask with trepidation. “Do they know you’re there?”

“Yes, and yes.”

Damn, that’s too bad.

“Is this place yours?” he asks, looking around.

“One of my corporations owns it,” I reply cautiously. “Why?”

“The council wants our heads,” he reveals with a heavy sigh. “Jamison’s in a safe house right now, but I don’t think we should stay in London. After the fiasco in Greece, they aren’t willing to let him lead our security forces. But there’s no way we’re giving up our investigation. We’re too close.”

He goes on to explain everything he’s discovered about the groups.

“The group in Greece is the one that killed Sia. They’re not aware they’re working with vampires.

Gatlin went to inform them, hoping they’ll change their minds and give us some information to go on.

As for the other group, we haven’t seen or heard from them.

They may or may not know about the mages. ”

“That’s odd,” I muse. “Vampires have no magic. How did they create portals?”

“With this,” he says with a slight lift of his lips. He pulls out a stylus. “Nolan paid the mages a long time ago to develop a spell that would enable us to create a portal using simple tools. It’s great because we don’t suffer the same side effects as mages when we use it long distance.”

I didn’t realize that was an option. Not surprising for someone who hates portals. “Can anyone wield one of those?”

His eyebrow rises. “Yes.” His gaze drops to my palm. “Do you have an idea about where to go next?”

“I believe so,” I say, peering down at the brand on my skin. “Where are you going to take Jamison and Hawthorne?” I trace the lines of the anvil. The thought of being alone again sucks, but I can’t blame him. Not with two of their team down. When he doesn’t reply, I look up at him.

“Here. Where we can all be together,” he states with a scowl. “There’s no way in hell you’re doing this alone.”

I bite my lip. There’s no need for them to come with me on the quests. Someone else could get hurt or worse. But I don’t want them to stay in London either. Not with the council on the warpath.

“One condition.” His head tilts. “How did you find me?”

“Food delivery,” he says with a twitch of his lips. “You used the same credit card that you had with you when you and Gatlin escaped.”