And afterward, as she lay exhausted against him, tracing a finger through his sweat-dampened hair, she wondered if there was a way back to her old life after this.
Or if he’d led her into a maze in which she’d be lost forever.
Chapter Eighteen
The monster watched Ariadne with his beautiful eyes as she tended to him. When she was finished he made to stand, but stumbled, swaying. Impulsively she wrapped her arms about his muscled waist to steady him. He looked down at her curiously, then led her to a bower, where he offered her berries and clean water. And although he did not speak, she thought there was intelligence in his soft brown gaze…
—From The Minotaur
Apollo crept down the corridor toward his uncle’s study.
Well. As much as a man his size could creep.
It was past midnight and as far as he could tell all the guests were asleep, including Lily. He’d had to leave her sweet warmth to go investigating, and he hoped it wouldn’t take long.
He wanted to return to her.
The door to his uncle’s study was unlocked, thank God, and he ducked inside as quietly as he could. It wasn’t a very big room. A single bookshelf appeared to hold ledgers, with a table and chair in front of it, while a desk and chair stood at one end near a fireplace.
Apollo crossed to the desk and set the candle he’d brought on a corner. The top of the desk held only a jar of quills and an inkpot on a blotter. He went around the desk and sat in the chair to try the middle of the three drawers that ran across the front of the desk. It was unlocked and he drew it easily open to find a thin pile of papers, a pencil, and a penknife. Nothing else.
Frowning, he tried the left-hand drawer and found it entirely empty. Obviously his uncle wasn’t much of a man of business—which might be the reason he was so deeply in debt. The right-hand drawer, unlike the other two, was locked.
Apollo had his head bent, examining the lock as well as he could in the dim light, when a voice interrupted.
“What are you doing at my desk, sirrah?”
Apollo nearly hit his head on the desk. He looked up and found his uncle frowning at him. He opened his mouth to lie… and found he was simply too tired to do so.
He sat back in his uncle’s chair, making it squeak with his weight. “I’m looking for evidence that you murdered three men in order to steal my inheritance and title.”
The older man’s mouth dropped open. “You… what?”
Apollo sighed. “I’m your nephew, Apollo Greaves, Viscount Kilbourne.” He bowed mockingly. “At your service, naturally.”
“Kilbourne…” William Greaves backed up, nearly dropping his candle. “You’re mad.”
“No,” Apollo said patiently, if a little grimly, “I’m really not, and you of all people should know it.”
“Why’re you here?” William asked, apparently not following the conversation at all.
Apollo started to rise, but the other man gave a little shriek and held out both hands. “Stay where you are! Don’t come near!”
“Uncle,” Apollo said quietly.
“No!” The other man dashed from the room, moving quite swiftly considering his age.
Apollo’s brows rose.
“Help! Help! Murder!” screamed his uncle, his voice diminishing as he ran away.
Well, that settled that.
Apollo picked up the candle and strode out of the room. He met a single footman as he made his way to Lily’s room, but he simply nodded and kept walking. Below, he could hear the household rousing as his uncle called the alarm.
Miraculously, she was still sleeping when he entered her bedroom.
He sighed, taking one last look at her peacefully slumbering form, and then reached down and shook her shoulder hard. “Lily.”