The hollow disk radiated energy in his hand. It slid through his fingers, into his limbs and down into his chest until it reverberated through every muscle in his body. A sense of power washed through him, and he felt like he grew three times his regular size in the seconds that followed, even though physically nothing changed.

Cool.

A smile slid across his face. Moving past the old woman, he headed back through Atalanta's sitting room until his hand landed on the outer door.

"Maximus." The old woman appeared at his side again, almost as if she'd floated through air to join him. He didn't look at her, his eyes still glued to the pendant. But from the edge of his vision, for the first time he realized she stood no taller than him. "It's not too late. There's still time for you to put it back. No one will ever know what happened here."

"Why aren't you afraid for her to have it?" he whispered, not looking away from the four empty chambers that were obviously meant to hold some kind of stones. He turned the disk in his hands. Each chamber was slightly different. One was round, one was oval, one diamond shaped. The last was triangular.

"Because she cannot wield its power."

"But I can."

The old woman didn't answer, and in her silence, Max knew the truth. Yeah, this was what Atalanta was afraid of. And he had been smart to come here and take it. His smile widened as his fingers curled around the smooth edges.

"Maximus-"

"What is it?" he asked, finally looking up. Stark fear registered in the old woman's eyes when his gaze met hers, and wasn't that interesting? She was some ancient godlike creature, and she was suddenly afraid of him. A ten-year-old boy no one wanted.

"It is"-her voice lowered-"death and destruction in the wrong hands."

His smile grew even wider. "Perfect."

"Maximus-"

Max flew down the stairs as silently as he could and into his room, where he tore off his pajamas and threw on his clothes and boots. A pang of regret zipped through him when he glanced at the warm, soft bed, but he pushed it aside. When the hollow disk was safely hidden inside his shirt, its energy radiating across his skin, he finally turned to grab his coat.

The old woman stood inside the door of his room, but this time her eyes weren't scared, they were filled with sadness. "She'll hunt you," she said quietly.

"It's better than staying here. We might not be in Tartarus anymore, but this is hell just the same. And you know it."

She shook her head slowly, that sad look still in her eyes. "You are so much like your father."

His back tingled. "An asshole?"

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, and something like amusement crossed her face. But after everything that had been done to him, shocking some ethereal old lady with blunt language didn't even register on his I-give-a-rip chart.

"I meant-"

Oh, yeah, he was so not going there. "Save it. We both know I don't have a father."

"You do," she sighed. "And regardless of what you think now, there is still hope."

At her words, hatred for Atalanta's torture, for the old woman's meddling, for the parents who'd left him to rot in this hellhole whipped through him and condensed in the center of his chest, right where the pendant lay against his skin. And a rage, the kind he'd always tried to hold back, simmered right beneath the surface of his control. "There's no such thing as hope. There's only this." His hand closed over the pendant beneath his shirt. "And right now, this is mine."

He moved past her and out into the hall, almost as if the pendant were leading him, giving him strength and courage he'd never had before. And wasn't that even more cool?

"Remember your humanity, Maximus," the old woman called after him.

He nearly laughed as his feet hit the first floor and he headed for the hidden entrance he came and went through when he didn't want the house servants to see him. His humanity hadn't ever done shit for him. And it sure as hell wasn't going to save him now. He didn't need it. He didn't need anything or anyone for that matter.

He only needed himself.

Thanatos stood in the center of the run-down cabin high in the Cascade Mountains and glared at the two daemon warriors in front of him: Dumb and Dumber. "Explain how the Argonaut got away from you."

The two daemons looked at each other.

"We..." The one to the left shifted his gaze Thanatos's way. "When the second Argonaut showed up to aid the first, we retreated. We knew we had to report back to you about the loss of the others."

Thanatos's jaw clenched. This was why the Argonauts still lived. Because Atalanta filled her army with brainless cowards. There was a reason these morons had been in the Fields of Asphodel, awaiting sentence in Tartarus, when she'd found them. Because they were too stupid to live.

And she blamed him for the fact the Argonauts outsmarted them at every turn?

He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. "And was the first Argonaut injured in battle? You said he killed six daemons. He couldn't have done that much damage unscathed."

"Well..." The daemon dumb enough to start this discussion looked at his pal, then at the ground where the two hunters' blood seeped into the dirty floorboards. Hunger showed clearly in their glowing green eyes. "He was still fighting."

"We wanted to make sure you didn't walk into a trap," the other daemon piped in.

The two looked at each other and nodded, like they'd just covered their asses well.

"Thank you." Thanatos gripped his sword. "You've both proven your worth."

Both daemons had the bad sense to glance at each other again and smile, their twisted lips curling over stained teeth. And Thanatos figured that was as much relief as they deserved. He drew his sword and sliced through both their necks in one fell swoop.

Their decapitated heads dropped to the ground with a smack, followed by their twitching bodies, to land on the human hunters they'd planned to feast on only moments before.

Disgusted, Thanatos slid the sword back in his scabbard and turned to look around the decrepit cabin.

Things were not going at all as he'd planned. Now, not only did he have Atalanta breathing down his neck, but he didn't even have a platoon in this region to command. He was going to have to hunt the Argonauts on his own. That or hightail it out of this forest for good and spend the rest of his life running.

Options swirled in his mind. Could he survive on his own? Atalanta would come after him. But he was smarter than the average daemon. And he still had his archdaemon powers. At least until she caught him. And killed him.

If only he'd figured out a way to get that damn disk from around her neck...

A sharp knock at the door of the cabin brought his head around. Followed by a voice. A soft female voice.

"Is anyone in there? I'm sorry to bother you, but I saw your light on. Hello?"

Thanatos drew in a deep breath and caught her scent. Yes, definitely female. And Argolean. And...special.

Now this was interesting...

"Hello?" She knocked again. "Is anyone there?"

How had someone of royal ancestry wandered into these woods? As questions swirled in his mind, a way out of this mess he'd created for himself condensed into a plan. A plan that didn't involve Atalanta's pendant but was just as good.

Without hesitation he jerked the door open. The female's eyes grew wide with shock, and she opened her mouth to scream, yet no sound came out. When she turned to run, he easily grabbed her arm and stopped her.

The scream that finally tore from her chest reverberated through every cell in his body. His feral smile widened.

He pulled her inside the cabin with one easy yank. "We haven't officially met, Princess. I'm the archdaemon. And right now, I'm your worst nightmare come true."

Chapter Thirteen.

Zander pushed himself up to his hands and knees and took a deep breath. Okay, this time he was pretty sure he could do it without...

Nope. There it went.

His head spun like he was on the mother of all benders. Sonofabitch. What the hell did she do to him? She was a healer, for crap's sake.

The sound of heavy footfalls reached his ears, echoing down the long tunnel. For a second he held his breath and listened, then exhaled when he realized who it was.

Titus.

He'd know the sound of the Argonaut anywhere. They'd spent enough time together wandering backcountry and hunting daemons for Zander to pick Titus out based on his clod-stomper footsteps alone. Sure enough, the scents of pine and fresh blood wafted on the air, followed by Titus's gravelly breath.

"Callia? I'm back."

Zander eased back to rest on his heels but kept his head down. Man, when he saw her again...

"Z," Titus said as he came around the corner, surprise in his voice. "You're up."

Zander focused on the rocks in his direct line of sight and worked on knocking back the motherfucking migraine.

Titus chuckled. "I woulda thought by now you'd be almost back to normal. Brother, you don't look so good."

"I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah, I can see that." Titus chuckled again, "By the way, you're butt-ass naked."

Zander thought about flipping Titus the bird, but that would take too much energy.

Titus's feet shuffled on the rocks to Zander's right. "Where's Callia?"

"Gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

"Away, I guess."

"Away? What the hell happened?"

"Nothing." Zander pushed to stand, irritation fueling him, then had a moment of Oh, shit when the room spun. He reached out a hand to steady himself on the rock wall. "It's none of your damn business anyway."

"Tell me you at least sent her home." When Zander didn't answer, Titus added, "Zander. Tell me you fucking opened the portal and sent her back to Argolea."

"I might have," he mumbled. "But she didn't give me a chance."

"Fuck me," Titus breathed. "You let her leave, in the middle of the night?" He pointed down the dark tunnel. "It's twenty degrees out there. And snowing. Not to mention there are daemons roaming this area. You know she has to find holy ground to open the portal on her own. She's not an Argonaut. She can't open it from anywhere. And we're on the top of a fucking mountain."

"Wait." One hand braced on the rock wall, Zander lifted his head. "You and Demetrius didn't take care of the rest of those daemons?"

Titus ran a hand through his wavy dark hair, frustration radiating off him in waves. "By the time I found Demetrius, he was so bloody and banged up he could barely lift his parazonium. The two fuckers he was fighting didn't look much better, and when they saw me, they bailed. I got Demetrius home, then came back for you and Callia. But sure as shit, those daemons didn't get too far away."

Skata. A rush of adrenaline speared Zander's chest and spread beneath his ribs. He scanned the cave floor, seeing it clearly for the first time since he'd awoken and found Cal-lia leaning over him. He spotted fresh clothes-ones Titus must have hauled back when he'd brought Callia to heal him-and stooped to pull on the pants. "She can't have gotten far."

How long had she been gone? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Panic edged its way in. Shit, why had he let her leave?

"What the hell did you say to her, Zander?" Titus quickly checked his blade and shoved it back in its scabbard.

"Nothing. I..." He jerked on his shirt, dropped to the ground and shoved his feet into fresh boots as the conversation with Callia replayed through his mind. Every goddamn word of it.

"Fuck," Titus whispered. "You dumb shit."

Zander clenched his jaw and went back to lacing his boots. Rage pushed its way up his torso. Rage over Titus's suddenly protective nature where Callia was concerned-who the hell did he think he was anyway?-and the way Callia had flat out lied to his face in this cave minutes ago. And about something so precious, so important too. But he fought it back, pushed it down, breathed deep so he could stay in control. Regardless of the things she'd done, he didn't want her dead. And he needed Titus's help right now if he was going to find her before she got herself into serious trouble.

He rose to his feet, threw on his jacket and lifted his bloody weapons from the ground. "Let's just go fucking find her, all right?"

Zander took off at a jog down the darkened corridor, not caring about the supplies they'd left behind. Ahead, moonlight illuminated the opening of the cave and the snowflakes falling in a sea of white from the sky. At least two inches of fresh powder had accumulated recently, and there were tracks in the snow. Boot marks that had to be Titus's from where he'd stepped through the portal right outside the cave, and smaller ones. Ones that were already filling in.

"There," Zander said, pointing to what had to be Callia's footprints leading away from the tunnel.

"She was running." Titus squatted on his haunches, examining the tracks.

Zander frowned. Yeah, well, no shit, Sherlock. She'd wanted away from his ass as fast as possible, hadn't she? He rubbed a hand over his temple, the lingering effects of the energy she'd so easily inflicted on him still hovering behind his skull.

Titus pushed up on his thighs and stood. "She's not that far ahead of us. We should be able to catch her if we hustle."

Her footprints were easy to follow until the snowfall increased and the forest turned into a sheet of white. They tracked her for a least a mile through the trees before the snow covered her prints. Zander stopped and turned a slow circle as big, white, chunky flakes fell all around him and clung to his hair, eyelashes and the stubble on his jaw. Dammit, where was Demetrius when they fucking needed him? "There's nothing out here."

Titus scanned the eerily dark forest. His mustache and soul patch were white with ice crystals. He squinted and pointed through the trees. "There. A light."

Zander held up a hand to block the snow from slapping him in the eyes. "What is that? A fire?"

"A house of some kind. There's nowhere else to hide out here, and contrary to what you think, she's not stupid. She wouldn't stay out in the open, no matter how pissed at you she is."

Zander ignored the jab and picked up his pace. He made it another fifty yards in the trees before pain exploded behind his eyes and radiated through his skull all over again. Only this time it was a hundred times worse than what Cal-lia had thrown his way.

"Mother...fucker." He grabbed for a tree trunk, swayed but caught himself before he went down.