Page 10 of Rogue Witch

Blade rarely gets angry, but the darkening of his blue eyes tells me he’s losing patience. None of us know what went wrong in the War Games—least of all, Olympia. Worse, Raith, Blade and I don’t know if Ciarah is safe. Safe? She isn’t safe. The possibility of another Reaping occurring so soon and Ciarah being taken hadn’t factored into our plans. Anger ignites my fire and warms my palms. There must be a way to help her. There must be.

Normally, when a Reaping occurs, we do our best to go about our business until our loved ones return—or not. The Reaping lasts a week, at most. Seven days of hell. For Raith, Blade, and I, beings who have lived millennia, it’s an eternity.

My thoughts screech to attention. Forty years have passed since I last sensed the subtle shift in air that signals the arrival of a god, but there is no mistaking the feeling. A hiss from Blade tells me he, too, senses the god’s arrival. Olympia freezes and I almost swear that Domini flinches right before the goddess Eldione appears.

Whereas Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, possesses a beauty that warms the heart, Eldione, an Atlantean goddess, has stark beauty cold as ice. A blaze of copper locks frame alabaster skin and emerald eyes not of this world. To touch her is to freeze one’s heart. She wears the ancient, flowing white gown that reminds us that she and the other gods existed before our ancestors lived.

“Eldione,” Olympia says in a cool voice. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

“You do not have the honor of anything, witch,” Eldione replies, and Blade visibly winces. “You have nothing to do with the matter.” Eldione faces Raith. “I am here—” Her head snaps in Seton’s direction and her eyes narrow. “Since when does the Illumina associate with skyloi?”

Dogs? The Atlantean gods refer to the gods of the Greek pantheon as skyloi: dogs.

Raith’s eyes jerk to mine.

“Skyloi?” Olympia whispers. “A Greek god?”

“No god,” she sneers. Demigod, I think, as Eldione adds, “Demigod.”

Seton’s brows raise. “You don’t mean me?”

“Tychon,” she half growls.

Tychon? “Son of Alastor?” I blurt, and Blade finishes, “God of family feuds and avengers of evil deeds.”

Blade takes two quick steps toward me as Raith leaps to his feet and I command fire into my palms.

Eldione’s eyes meet mine and she gives a low laugh. “Will you uphold your alliance with the Pantheon and protect me from him? Or will you make the same mistake Zeus did?”

The Atlanteans have never forgiven Zeus for not taking their side when Damien’s Atlantean sorceress, Elexea, sank Atlantis. Their ancient rivalry evolved into a bitter feud that left a bounty on the sorceress’s head.

“What is your intention, Eldione?” I demand.

“So, you have made your choice,” she hisses, then swings her gaze onto Olympia “The Grand Witch of the North has allied herself with the ancient deceivers.”

“Ancient deceivers is correct,” Olympia says in a voice so cold, chills prickle my arms. “We know him as Seton Alexander, a graduate of The Academy.”

I can’t believe it. Seton Alexander, graduate of The Academy—childhood friend to Ciarah—and a Greek demigod No. Tychon is centuries old. He is no youth. He took the form of a young man to— To what? Befriend Ciarah? My thoughts race and I snap my gaze onto Blade. He’s staring at Seton with eyes that have turned golden. Fae eyes. My heart jumps into overdrive.

“Raith,” I begin, but he has already started toward Blade.

“He has betrayed us,” the Fae’s voice breaks the silence. “Betrayed her.”

Raith reaches Blade as a gale force wind whips through the room. A floor lamp crashes to the carpet. I’m not sure if Blade has called the wind, or if one of the gods are responsible. Maybe even Olympia, who has thrown her hands into the air and is chanting. I turn my shoulder into the wind and start for Blade as Raith seizes his shoulders and shakes him. One of the things that make the Fae so powerful is their connection with nature. Like dragons with fire, they need only think wind and the elements obey their command almost without exception.

A snarl mingles with the roar of wind and magic courses through the room. I look over my shoulder. Eldione stands with one hand stretched toward Seton. Not a hair on her head so much as rustles with the wind. Seton has turned his head aside as if to protect himself from the wind. I stumble back two paces before bracing my legs to keep from being forced against the wall. Carter leaps and tackles Seton. Seton’s feral growl is nearly as loud as the wind, then he vanishes. Carter’s arms close around air.

Eldione whirls to face Olympia, and demands, “What is the meaning of this?” The wind ceases and her last word comes out a shout in the now quiet room.

“You gods claim to be all powerful, then blame us for being fooled by your kind?” the Grand Witch snaps.

Her voice is hard as granite, but I see fear in her eyes. I’m afraid, too, but I bet for a very different reason. Why did Seton take human form and befriend Leilah? Does he know about our relationship with her? I shudder to think the lengths to which Olympia will go to find the answer to that question. If our relationship with Leilah is exposed—

“Tychon is a demigod,” Eldione snaps. “He is not all powerful.”

“He is powerful enough to take human form and fool us all,” Domini cuts in.

I glance at Raith, who has a hand on Blade’s shoulder. They’re both staring at Domini.