Regardless of what her father thought, regardless of what the Argonauts thought, she was a warrior. And she wasn’t about to abandon Max to Zagreus’s satyrs. She could save herself and then save him. After all, it was what she’d been born to do. It was her destiny.
And it was way past time she proved that to the world.
Chapter Five
Zagreus nearly slammed into Ana on the stairs.
Drawing up short, he stared down at the fair-haired nymph dressed in the flimsy white garment all nymphs wore and frowned. “Took you long enough.”
“Aia said you needed two of us. I went to find Ida.”
He glanced toward the dark-haired nymph at Ana’s back, several steps down in the cramped stairwell, looking anywhere but at him. He’d seen her before, but she was as unremarkable as the rest of the nymphs in this place. Thankfully, the child was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t sure he had the patience to deal with her at the moment.
“You,” he said to the brunette.
“Ida,” the brunette said sheepishly, still not looking at him.
“Right. Go get bathing supplies and fresh garments for the female in the tower. Not what you two are wearing.”
“I...” The brunette’s worried gaze shifted to Ana, who’d turned on her step to look down at her, then shifted back to Zagreus. “I don’t know her size, My Prince.”
“Taller than you. Slightly thinner.”
She looked toward Ana again with wide eyes then quickly bowed. “Yes, My Prince.”
He hated how skittish some of these nymphs were.
As the brunette rushed off, he told himself it wasn’t his problem and turned his attention back to Ana. “The female in the tower has a unique marking somewhere on her body. I want to know what it is and where it’s located.”
Ana’s brow wrinkled. “And just how am I supposed to figure that out?”
“Creatively.”
Ana blew out a breath and glanced around the narrow stairwell. “I guess I could charm her.”
“No magick.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “Why not?”
Zagreus worked to keep his temper in check. He didn’t like answering to anyone, least of all a nymph, but on this he knew he had to give her something or she’d go gossiping to her friends. “Because I already used a few spells on her, and I don’t want her brain turned to mush.”
Too much magick had a tendency to do that, especially to weaker races. It made the nymphs stupid. And with the satyrs all it did was feed their aggression. He’d learned that the hard way.
Not that Zagreus thought the female up in the tower was weak, per se. She was Argolean, and Zeus had chosen the first heroes from the Argolean race as warriors to defend and protect humans from threats of the Underworld. But he wasn’t willing to take any chances with his prisoner.
Ana’s gaze narrowed on Zagreus’s face. “She means something to you.”
His jaw clenched. Ana was a nymph, not immortal but otherworldly, and since she assisted Zagreus in matters dealing with the nymphs, he’d taught her a few spells to sway them to his way of thinking when needed. But that was as far as his leeway with her extended.
“She’s a prisoner. A valuable one. And it is not your job to question me.” He stepped back so she could pass. “Your job right now is to go up there and find her marking.”
Ana’s shoulders tightened. She clearly wasn’t happy with his order, but he didn’t give a rip. He was fairly certain the female was who he thought, but he needed confirmation one way or another. And he wasn’t willing to wait.
Ana swept past him up the stairs without another word.
He waited until her footsteps stopped at the top of the staircase then listened as she turned the lock and metal clanked, echoing through the space.
The old door groaned, followed by more footsteps, then the slap of the heavy door closing.
He stood still as muffled voices drifted down to him, trying to decipher what Ana was saying to the female. Silence followed. Then a thwack. A thunk. And something hard hitting the floor with a whomp above.
His gaze shot up the steps. In a matter of seconds, he was back at the top of the tower, pushing the door open.
Ana stood with her arms folded over her chest, glaring down at the female he’d just left in the room, slumped against the stone floor.
“What the fuck did you do?” Zagreus crossed the floor in two strides and knelt to push the hair off her face. Her eyes were closed, her body limp, but one check told him she was still breathing.
“What did I do?” Ana snapped. “I defended myself. She attacked me as soon as I stepped in here. Hurled a candlestick at me and tried to take me out.”
An iron candlestick as long as his arm lay at the nymph’s feet. Zagreus glanced up at Ana, noting the nymph wasn’t hurt. Just ticked.
He swept the female into his arms, shot Ana a glare as he stepped around her, then moved up the steps toward the raised bed. “I said no magick.”
“Too bad. You didn’t tell me she was violent.” Ana turned and watched as he laid the female on the mattress. “And since when do you care if prisoners are hurt anyway?”
His jaw ticked as he checked the female for injuries. He couldn’t see any besides a small bump on the side of her forehead where she’d hit the ground. Odds were good she’d be fine, and her being unconscious for the moment actually worked in his favor, but he wasn’t about to tell Ana that.
His gaze drifted to the long, slender column of her throat, to the open vee of her fitted blouse, and finally the swell of her breasts near the hem of the neckline. Heat stirred inside him. A heat he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
He forced himself to let go of her, to straighten and step away from the bed even though all he wanted to do was run his hands all over her body. Moving off the raised platform, he said, “Strip her and find the marking.”
Ana’s eyes widened, and she dropped her arms. “What if she wakes and attacks me again?”
“Then you’ll be in trouble. So you’d best get busy.”
Ana glared his way, then stomped up the stairs and stilled next to the bed.
“And don’t hurt her again.” Zagreus stood near the cold fireplace and braced a hand against the stone mantle, knowing better than to watch, unwilling to leave the room again. But his pulse raced as he stared down at the dark ashes and tried not to envision the nymph slowly revealing the female’s naked flesh.
She had a name. What had the male in the club called her? The wannabe Argonaut who’d tried to get in the way? Tamara? Tahliah? No... Talisa. He’d called her Talisa.
The name revolved in Zagreus’s mind while the sounds of fabric rustling mixed with Ana’s grumbling at his back. It wasn’t familiar. She’d never used it before. But he liked it. Liked the way it rolled over his tongue. Liked what it meant—of noble blood—because it was one more sign she was exactly who he thought her to be.
“I don’t know why you’re putting her up here in the tower,” Ana complained. “She should be in the dungeon. Chained to a wall. Where the hell did you find her, anyway? If she goes after one of the others the way she went after me, we’re going to have serious problems. They can’t defend themselves the way I ca—”