Page 108 of Onyx Realm

“Let me get rehydrated, and I’ll be good to go.” She moved to the fridge and began to pluck out items.

“Good. I’ll see you at noon.” Grabbing my keys, I went to the door.

“Markos?”

I looked back to her. “Hmm?”

“Thank you—for last night.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I needed that.”

“Anytime.”

She nodded. “It feels good to have a friend I can confide in. Never had that before.”

Surprise flicked through my mind. “No friends?”

She shook her head. “The two girls I am closest to aren’t ones I’ve opened up to about my problems. Probably should have instead of keeping things bottled up.”

“I’m honored.” I meant it. “So...friends?”

“Friends—with my husband.” That laugh was real, sweet, and pure to my ears.

I left, feeling lighter than I had in days.

***

The halls of Olympus were otherwise silent, not even the staff moving about below made a whisper. Glittering sunlight fell through the high windows, making the dust motes seem like flecks of gold. My rough breathing seemed out of place here, my shadow a pollution as it swept across the polished floors. I raised my hand, and my fist fell against the wood with a sharp note, further desecrating the peace and tranquility of this hallowed ground.

There was a rustling, and then the door creaked open. I inserted my foot the moment there was space to prevent it closing, because there was no way my presence would be welcomed here.

Iris stumbled back, trying to slam the door. “Go away, Markos.”

“Glad to see you’re still breathing,” I menaced.

Iris pulled a gun from the waistband of her yoga pants. “I won’t hesitate.”

“I should hope not.” I held up the bag of greasy burritos. The scent of eggs, bacon, and chorizo wafted around us. “But I’m not here to fight.”

The harpy lowered the barrel but didn’t put the weapon away. Her room was cream and gold, spacious and regal. Long windows framed picturesque views of the gardens. Daylight poured over the soft carpet as if it could cleanse the evil energy the inhabitant evoked. The space was completely at odds with the maneater’s appetite for blood and war.

“Before I bury the hatchet, tell me, what was your plan, Iris?” I stepped over the threshold, bag extended.

Iris snatched it like a ravenous fiend. “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”

I wish I believed you.“I’m listening.”

“I wasn’t,” she insisted, sensing my hesitation. “That was why I planned to drug her. So she wouldn’t fight back, wouldn’t get hurt.”

Anger bloomed inside me.

Iris looked me up and down before shaking her head. “She’s nice enough. Killing her was never an option. I just needed to make her disappear.”

And that confession saved the harpy’s life.

Iris retreated to a semi-circle nook where two armchairs were separated by a short table. She opened the contents of the bag, tearing into the packet of hot sauce with her teeth. Her left hand still gripped the pistol.

“I wanted you to think she left town—I was going toforceher to leave. Return her to wherever the hell she came crawling out of,” Iris garbled as she bit into a burrito.

It was impossible not to feel a trickle of pity for the woman. That could easily be Serena with a split lip, blackening eye, and uncontrollable tremors in her strong, muscular frame.

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