Tempted by Elisabeth Naughton Page B

Argonauts—Demetrius included—as she was right now. “Y-yes. Hurry.”
    Across the room, Apophis roared. His arms darted out and an electrical bolt shot from his fingertips. Demetrius swung out with his blade, nailed Apophis in the back, but it was too late. The current was already flying, sailing at light speed in their direction.
    The beam struck Gryphon square in the back. Energy jolted through him. His eyes flew wide and his whole body jerked and seized. He dropped to the ground like a board.
    A scream tore from Isadora’s chest. Demetrius swung at Apophis again. Orpheus attacked. The remaining witch pushed up from the floor and turned her fury on Isadora with a shriek.
    Isadora scrambled back as far as the bar still holding her arm would allow. She glanced down and found Gryphon’s blade at her feet.
    The training sessions with Orpheus condensed in her mind. Instinct ruled. She focused on the parazonium and envisioned it in her hand, breathed deep to center herself. Energy gathered near her Horae marking on her thigh. Power surged up into her body and shot down her free arm. Gryphon’s blade rocketed into her hand. Her fingers closed around the grip with deadly intent, and she swung as hard as she could. The blade stabbed deep into the witch’s chest.
    The witch gasped. As she staggered backward, the blade pulled from her chest cavity, creating a sucking sound that echoed across the chamber. Yellow goo spurted from the wound, droplets searing Isadora’s cheek. She recoiled at the burst of blinding pain. The witch dropped to her knees, then slumped to the floor.
    Across the room, Orpheus struck the warlock’s leg with his sword. Apophis screamed and went down to one knee, whipping Isadora’s way. Crimson blood oozed from numerous cuts and scrapes across his body. Unlike his witches, he was still mostly human. And he bled. Bright red. Just like her.
    Sweat poured down his face. That perfectly ordered gray hair was now a knotted mess around his grotesque features. His eyes took in the dead witches, darted back to where Demetrius and Orpheus prepared for the kill blow.
    “You haven’t seen the last of me.” With one final glare Isadora’s way, he poofed into nothingness.
    “That’s right, motherfucker,” Orpheus muttered. “Run back to your hole and hide like the pussy you really are.”
    Demetrius crossed the room in three strides and reached for Isadora’s bound arm. He didn’t speak as he worked and Isadora was too juiced to care.
    Orpheus finally caught sight of Gryphon out cold on the floor and rushed to his brother’s side. “Gryph! Shit.” He dropped his blade, rolled Gryphon onto his back. Burn marks marred both the front and back of the guardian’s clothing. “Dammit, Gryphon. Wake up, you moron.”
    Isadora’s hand jerked free and she fell into Demetrius. He caught her around the waist. Faintly she was aware of the blood and sweat coating his clothing, but his arms were strong and warm and crushing as they closed around her. And she didn’t give a rip that he smelled like witch goo. He was solid. He was real. Right now he was everything she needed.
    He was also gone way too soon. He set her back, made sure she was steady on her feet before he let go, but then he was gone, sliding his blade into its scabbard and kneeling on Gryphon’s other side as he and Orpheus worked to wake the unconscious Argonaut.
    She was still too stunned to feel anything as she turned to watch them work. But the scream that resounded from the doorway drew her immediate attention.
    Saphira, Isadora’s handmaiden, charged with her sword out like a spear. Only this wasn’t Saphira as Isadora had ever known her. This female’s eyes were a frightening neon yellow, her face a horror of menace and rage, and the murder gleaming on her face was a clear indication that what was left of her humanity was long gone.
    “Fuck,” Demetrius muttered when he caught sight of the rabid witch. “Orpheus!”
    Orpheus twisted,