We pushed through the darkening evening, the skies becoming clouded and erasing the earlier silver light. I brought the car to a screeching halt in front of a dilapidated shop with the words CRANFEL’S WEAPONRY across the top in the goblin language.
“So we ran away together, back to Troy. But he wouldn’t let you go. He will never let you go. Even now he is behind us, seeking you. We don’t have long.”
I jumped from the vehicle as she did the same. Edging around toward her, I readied to catch her should she dart away. I would take her through the portal by force if I had to. I would hate myself for it, but I would do it to keep her safe. I would never let her come to harm again, never let death claim her. She made no move, just stood beneath the flickering streetlight and watched me.
“If I return to my sisters, he will come for me?” Her tone was measured, her arms still crossed against her chest.
“Yes, and bring a legion of his fiercest demons. None would survive such an onslaught. Not even the gods’ own cohort.” I motioned to the door. We had precious little time to slip through the portal before Menelaus was upon us.
I heard her heartbeat speed up, thudding against her ribs as if the thought of harm befalling her sisters taxed her system. “How do you know he won’t follow us to the Underworld?”
“He will. But the mark will not call him unless he comes near you. Proximity activates it. If you stay here with your sisters, he will find you, and his demons will kill them all. I’ve seen your sisters, watched them band together. They would do anything to save you. Believe me when I tell you that no matter their skill, no matter their passion, every last one of them will die so he can have you.”
She eyed Cranfel’s, her heart still hammering out the violent rhythm. Even if she didn’t completely believe me, I knew Helen would never endanger the ones she loved. Her own past, the one she didn’t remember, told me as much.
Screeching tires cut through the night, the sound of Menelaus and his minions in pursuit. Helen didn’t realize she was a lure, one that would draw the demon king every time.
“We must go, Elena. He is close, and I’m certain he’s not alone.” My fangs lengthened. I would fight to the death.
She took a step toward the shops, seemingly having made up her mind. “I have only two demands, and if you agree to them, I will go with you. First, I want these removed.” She shook her slender wrists, the dispelling bracelets hugging her skin.
“Done. And the second?”
“Only I am allowed to kill Menelaus.” She stood there and decreed death with the air of a warrior goddess primed for battle. Her golden hair flowed down her back in a cascade of softness, and her fair skin shimmered with that otherworldly effervescence. There was nothing I could deny her. Nothing.
The deal was struck.
Chapter Seven
Elena
The portal closed behind me with a definitive swoosh, leaving Paris and I alone in the back of another shop. Though no longer on earth, I sensed no real change in the atmosphere or my surroundings. I wasn’t truly sure we’d actually entered another realm. Perusing the room, I searched for exits, weapons, anything to give me an edge.
Then I glanced at where the portal had vanished.
“Don’t worry. I paid Cranfel’s cousin in Paris an obscene amount of euros to make sure the portal closed behind us for good,” Paris said.
A goblin shuffled in through a shadowy door and gave them a bored look before shuffling back out again. I took a step to follow it, but Paris raised a hand so he could go first. I smirked. Once these cuffs were removed, I would show him just how much I didn’t need his help or his protection.
My mind raced back through the tale he’d told. I wasn’t sold on Paris’s story, though he had told it with surprising genuineness.
The vampire was well-known on Olympus. Tales of his womanizing and blood sport were often fireside fodder among my sisters. And he had always been known as a heartbreaker, his tan skin and fair hair a perfect complement to his formidable height and toned body. A golden five o’clock shadow graced the masculine angle of his jaw, and his eyes—I had never seen any more beautiful. It was as if a painter had taken a stroke of color from the firmament and given it to Paris, a gift of creation.
The more he’d told me, the more I had to admit something in his words rang true, and I couldn’t imagine why he would weave such a convoluted web of lies. I could not deny my instincts, and, to my own amazement, they told me to trust him. Besides, it was either risk the destruction of my sisters at the hands of the demon or put my own life on the line by following the playboy vampire. I would never set my sisters up for harm, even if it meant my own life would be forfeit. So be it.