Page 22 of Scion of Chaos

“You know at some point we’re going to have to stop talking about it and actually do the thing.”

“I don’t have a fucking window into their minds.” That’s an understatement; as the manifestation of the realm itself, I have always been able to sense every last prisoner locked inside me—except for those four. Every day, I relied on the other guards to confirm whether those prisoners were still in residence, meaning I’m thelastperson Pan should be grilling about this. “Tell me whereyouthink four Titans would go after escaping from prison and we’ll go there first.”

A second presence perks up with a rude chuckle.

“I already know your opinion, Chrysaor,” I snap, cutting him off. “It still doesn’t help us locate them. Until they make themselves known, it’s a waste of energy to start searching. My concern is for Nemea right now. Keeping her out of Chaos’ clutches is paramount. I won’t allow her to be used as a pawn in his pissing match with Fate.”

“Fair enough, boss. So, is this the place where you two did the deed?”

My head swivels, compelled by Chrysaor’s curiosity now. He lets out a low whistle as he takes in the rubble surrounding the bed. Something catches my eye and I reclaim control, stepping toward the bed and crouching down at its edge. I lift the rumpled bedsheet and peer through a jagged hole that has been cut into the center.

My nose twitches, and Chrysaor’s interest piques.“Hold it closer so I can smell her.”

I bring the fabric to my nose and inhale. My own sense of smell is average for a god, but Chrysaor’s is far more sensitive. He emits a hungry rumble, and my dick hardensagain.

“You guys are making me doubt the wisdom of bringing her inside,” I mutter, nose filled with the pungent scents of all our juices intermingling on the edges of the cloth.

“We can control ourselves,”Pan insists.“It’s safer for her to be with us.”

I frown at the hole. What would compel her to keep this particular patch of cloth? I erased her memory of our encounter.

Campe chimes in this time.“But did you fill in the blanks?”

“What do you mean?”

She gives an exasperated huff, forcing an involuntary breath through my own lips.“You erased her memory of her entire encounter, which must have spanned from the moment she found Pan to after the pair of you disappeared. Did you replace those hours with something plausible to fill in the blanks?”

“Fuck.”

A chorus of laughter and taunts echoes in my head. I slam the window shut.

I should have been more careful, but what’s done is done. I’m planning to retrieve her anyway, so she’ll need her memories returned to some degree. The fact that she saved a piece of fabric soaked with evidence of our joining is troubling, though. Pan’s spunk was powerful enough to help four Titans escape their prison; there’s no telling what kind of trouble a curious young woman might get into with a sample of it, especially one brimming with as much power as Nemea.

I step out of the cabin again to the sight of several enormous shadows flying overhead: a black dragon followed by three white ones, and with passengers on their backs. Shit. She’s going to have an army of Shadows and Guardians around her. I’ll have to think about the best way to approach.

“Plan on groveling, boss—that’s the only way I see you getting her out of there without a fight.”Alcides’ reasoned tone breaks through.

“Not that we won’t come if Typhon’s up to it.”

“I’m not dragging him into another fight so soon—or any of you. With luck, this can be handled peacefully.” I take a breath, coming to a decision. “And if anything, we’re going to need more allies to deal with the Titans. I’m going to view this as an opportunity.”

13

Nemea

Wind picks up beyond the balcony, gusting through and whipping my hair around my face. I’ve barely had a moment to process Benedetta’s words when the sky darkens with four enormous dragons. The black one swoops close and shifts into Razik just as he reaches the balcony railing. I get a rather interesting eyeful of his tattooed and pierced nakedness as he lands on bare feet. The dude is rocking some sexy hardware in all sorts of interesting places. I don’t usually get to see them in all their glory, since they have a rooftop landing pad on campus and tend not to shift when around the students.

When Razik steps close to me and holds something out, my eyes shoot to his face and my cheeks heat. “Your bag, Miss Jones,” he says with a smirk. Black smoke flows out of his nose and mouth, coalescing around him into a black T-shirt, black jeans, and black shit-kickers.

“Thanks,” I mumble, taking it from him. It’s still as heavy as it was, but I carefully pat the outside, relieved when I feel the smooth orb of the glass globe inside it.

The other three new arrivals are white dragons, who I guess must be April Vincent’s three mates. The fact that April rides one is a dead giveaway. Her mom and dad, Cassandra and Andrew, are astride the backs of each of the others. They hover, taking turns landing long enough for their passengers to dismount before shifting.

For a few seconds, the sheer quantity of hot, naked men would be enough to make me blush even more, except all I can think about is the satyr who monopolizes that one sliver of memory I managed to reclaim. And theotherman who I can’t even properly describe, other than knowing he was more beautiful than any of the men in front of me now.

These women are lucky as hell, though with the little I’ve learned about them, they hold their own with the men who adore them. Even though finding a partner was never on my radar when I came to St. George, I feel a pang of longing for some of what they have. I clutch the perfume bottle again, hoping it can help once I have a moment alone to test it. Only a small part of me reminds me that it’sanswersI want, not a boyfriend, or a mate, or whatever.

A cloud of shimmering white smoke swirls around the party and the men step through it, fully clothed now. April moves closer, eyeing me warily. Her blonde curls frame her face like a lion’s mane, her tan skin glowing.

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