She shrugged. "There was a room full of gods when Zeus snarled it out. It could have been any of them."
Jericho scoffed at her blindness. It could have been Nike. It was possible. "How can you have faith in anyone after everything that's happened?"
"Because I choose to. I won't let people like Zeus and Noir ruin my life by making me suspicious of everyone around me. I won't give them that power. They're not worth it."
Jericho wanted to be like that, too, but it was so hard. He didn't know if he had it in him any more to trust. He'd been hurt one time too many.
She pushed him back down and covered him with the sheet. "You need to rest. While I've mended your wounds, you're still sore and wounded. Give your body time to heal completely."
"There's too much to be done. I need to know-"
"No."
He blinked at her, unable to believe she'd just told him no. Forcefully and rudely. "No, you d'in'."
"Yes, I di'id," she mocked. "Don't make me use my Jedi ninja mind tricks on you. I might screw up and fry your brains."
He couldn't suppress a smile at her unfounded threats. "I appreciate the concern, but Noir is still scheming and we need to talk to Deimos and M'Adoc. Maybe they know something we can use."
She bit her lip and cringed as if she didn't care for that thought. Gods, how he loved that fretful look. "You know the only way to see them is to go to Olympus. Is that really what you want?"
"No. But I want Noir's heart in my fist and if going there is what I have to do..."
"You want his more than Zeus's?"
She had a point. It was hard to decide who he wanted to murder more.
Both would be preferable. "Maybe."
She rolled her eyes at him. "I think you just like being angry."
"Not really." Anger just seemed to be his main sustenance. "But Noir is after us with a personal vendetta. This is no time to be squeamish or timid. The best defense is a good offense. We need to make the lion a rabbit and run him into the ground." "What if we can't?"
"I'm not going to think that way. Noir is ours and we're going to make him wish he'd never stuck his head out of Azmodea."
Delphine couldn't deny him the passion he felt. She just wished there was a better way. But if he was willing... "Then Olympus it is. But do try to behave. I know it's hard for you, but. . ."
He snorted. "I won't piss on the floor."
"It's not the floor I'm worried about. It's their cornflakes."
With a droll glower, he dressed himself in a black top and pants before they teleported to the Vanishing Isle, where Acheron and his people had taken the remaining survivors.
Delphine followed Jericho, bracing herself for a rough showdown. The one thing she'd learned about Jericho was that his temper would always get the better of him. And from what she'd seen of Deimos and M'Adoc, they didn't need anyone else beating on them.
They entered the temple hall-where the Oneroi gathered to feast, gossip or share information. Today the hall had been turned into a large infirmary. There were a few Oneroi tending the wounded.
But it was the demigod who'd been placed in charge of them that surprised her.
Zarek of Moesia had been born human. Even worse, he'd been raised as a human slave who'd been wrongfully convicted of raping his owner and then executed for it. For thousands of years, he'd lived as one of the Dark-Hunters who rode herd on the Daimons. At least in theory. In reality, Zarek had been one step this side of insane-and not even a full step. He'd been kept isolated from mankind for their protection.
A few years ago, Artemis had declared him a threat to mankind and had sent an assassin after him. But not before Acheron had petitioned the goddess Themis to judge him to see if he was worth saving. Unable to do so herself, Themis had sent her daughter, Astrid, in to judge. Astrid had not only judged Zarek sane, she'd saved his life and fallen in love with him.
Ever since then, the two of them had been inseparable.
Tall, blond and beautiful, Astrid was on the opposite side of the room with a female Oneroi she was assisting.
Zarek was directing the other attendants who were healing and moving the rest of the Oneroi and Dolo-phoni. Even though he was considered a god now, he still retained that feral human quality. It didn't help that his hair was short and jet black. The same color as his sharply trimmed goatee. There was just such an air of menacing power about him that it made the hair on the back of her neck rise.
He crossed the room as soon as he saw them. "Ash told me you guys wouldn't be joining us."
Afraid Jericho might say something to set Zarek off, Delphine stepped between them. "Change of plans. Why are you here?"
"I asked him to come," Astrid said as she joined them. "Not all of the Skoti are returning, so I was afraid of another attack. For some insane reason, a number of them are still siding with Noir."
Zarek inclined his head to his wife. "So if the punks come here, they're going to dance with the devil and get the short end of the horn."
Astrid smiled proudly as she wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed him. "No one better than my Zarek to rip someone's head off." She looked at Jericho. "You two should get along famously."
Instead they were both suspicious as they sized each other up. It would be amusing if they didn't have so much riding on this.
"Where's Deimos?" Jericho asked.
Astrid pointed to the far comer. "Phobos went back to help the others and to save as many as he could."
"Thanks." Jericho led Delphine away from Zarek and Astrid over to where Deimos was resting. He looked down at Delphine as guilt consumed him. "I should be there, too, helping them."
"You can't." She patted the center of his chest, just over his heart. "Noir knows how to kill you. We have to take you out of the game or risk losing you."
"Fear doesn't control me."
She gave him a dry smirk. "I know, tough guy. But you have one hell of an off switch that I'm sure he's shared with everyone on his team."
"And the one thing I know is that everything in the universe has a weakness. He knows mine. We have to find Noir's."
Deimos scoffed as they reached him. He was bruised and still bleeding. Someone had bandaged his head and one of his eyes was covered by white gauze. "Find it, my ass. Look at me. They can't even heal me of the damage he's done. When was the last time you saw me busted up like this?"
Nonplussed by the question, Jericho shrugged. "Over a Thracian slave dancer. You and Phobos got into it until I had to separate you. You both looked like that afterward."