A Seer for the Titan (TITANS #4) Read online

  Maybe he said he was named Epimetheus, like Prometheus’ brother?

  Whatever his name, he knelt in front of her, and she tried not to watch the bobbing member between his thick, muscular thighs, but it was remarkably proportional to his enormous body. Remarkably clean, too, as was the rest of him, considering he’d been under the earth minutes ago.

  He said something and smiled. It softened the angles of his face and made his eyes shine gold. Nah. That was her headlights, reflecting off his irises.

  “I don’t understand you,” she said again, though she might have caught the word name. Maybe he was a tourist. “Do you speak English?” she asked in English. When he didn’t react, she asked the same in German. “Sprechen Sie Deutch?”

  Nada—and that was the only word she knew in Spanish, so she couldn’t try that.

  Epimetheus gently took her hand and helped her to her feet. Her ass hurt where it had made contact with the ground. She was lucky she hadn’t bumped her head. Or she had, in the car, and was still there, having a lovely hallucination.

  But that wouldn’t explain how she felt safe when his large hand was wrapped around her palm, almost swallowing it. Then again, that definitely wouldn’t make sense if she was awake. She should be running away from him, screaming, not getting lost in his eyes.

  Were they really gold?

  And she shouldn’t be tapping her chest and saying, “Elpida. Possibly concussed. Nice to meet you. I think.”

  He wasn’t dangerous. If he were, with his obvious strength, he could have raped, killed, and filleted her by now. Instead, he was cupping her neck and brushing his thumb against her cheek. Then her lips.

  She parted them before she knew what she was doing, and leaned in. Would he kiss her?

  The thing nudging her stomach snapped her out of her lustful haze. She had to pick up Daphne and return to Athens, and to paved streets and cement buildings, and lack of gorgeous naked zombie strangers.

  Okay, so he obviously wasn’t a zombie. He was warm, his skin the bronze of someone who spent hours in the sun sans bathing suit, and evidently not into her brains. Though he didn’t seem to mind her body, judging by how his gaze turned hungry when he lowered it to her breasts.

  She splayed her hand on his chest and took a step back. Relief mingled with a touch of disappointment when he didn’t press on after her.

  “I have to go. Need to be somewhere.” If her car would oblige her. Still, she couldn’t leave him here. “Can I give you a ride to the nearest city?” Assuming she could find that.

  He tilted his head, studying her face. His eyelashes truly were gorgeous, and his lips were wide and generous. He had a mouth that seemed made to smile. But his eyes... Gold flecks swirled and danced in the irises, occasionally overtaken by a darker, almost black color. Gorgeous eyes.

  Sad eyes. She was looking up at him, and he cried. He was calling... her name? No. A name she knew but couldn’t make out. And he wasn’t calling it now; he was whispering it. In her ear. In her hair. Against her chest. He rained kisses all over her face. She felt his lips, warm and moist. When they touched hers, she tasted the saltiness of his tears.

  “Don’t cry, my one,” she tried to say, but it came out a choked croak.

  He clutched her to him, and she felt his desperation as if it were hers. He needed her to stay, but she couldn’t. She was so tired. Her frail body refused to obey her when she begged her hands to cup his cheeks one last time. He didn’t grow a beard—ever—because she didn’t like it. She loved his smooth skin. Loved his strength and his power and his simple approach to life. She loved his laugh, but was never going to hear it again.

  She tried to keep her gaze on this face that she adored. She couldn’t smile or form words, but she let him feel the love that flowed inside. So much love, it hurt her chest as much as her inability to draw breath did. The spark of life in her grew weaker, her tether to him more frayed. And then she saw no more.

  Elpida gasped for breath and swayed, as she tried to separate her vision—was it a vision?—from a reality, but before she could find her footing, another mental image slammed into her, wiping away the scenery and replacing it with the top of a mountain, the sun high up in the sky.

  An enormous naked man stood on it—no, crawled out of the earth, like Epimetheus had. It could be him, but the stranger had his back to her, as he raised his arms above his head. Dark clouds gathered overhead, hiding the sun, and a deafening roar overtook all other sound.

  The man clenched his fists, and the world died.

  She didn’t know how she knew, but it was like billions of hearts around the globe stuttered and then ceased. Hers wasn’t among them. Her body already lay sprawled at the man’s feet, dead eyes staring at the darkening sky.

  Epimetheus’ lovely face floated back into view, and the horrible premonition frayed at the edges before dissolving into her present. What had she just seen? Would she actually love this man until her dying breath? And would he destroy the world for her?

  Nah. She was probably having a stroke. Or a delayed panic attack, triggered by the crazy that was tonight.

  Chapter Four

  Once more, Elpida—the word meant hope in his language—was weakened before him. The first time around, he’d gathered her in his arms, his instinct to protect a woman in that state, not take the opportunity to end her. He chanced a glance at the beast beside them. It hadn’t gotten in his way before, when he caught her. Would it interfere now? Epimetheus neither saw nor heard signs of life coming from it, other than the bright beams of light spilling from its eyes.

  He could take care of the beast, if he had to. Once he assumed his true form, he could step on it and take it out of its misery, if it were still alive. He wrapped an arm around Elpida’s waist and used the other to prop her head up. She didn’t lose consciousness now, but dug her nails into his arms, holding on as if to life itself.

  He should kill her, take that life, snuff out the light in her warm brown eyes, but something about the way she gazed at him mesmerized him. There was fear and pain etched in her expression, but something akin to desire lurked beneath them. Possibly more than that. Besides, she was a mystery. He still couldn’t read her mind, and he wanted to know her purpose. Why did Rhea believe Elpida would keep him from being free? Had the gods fashioned him another perfect mate, to keep him doing their bidding?

  And was Rhea even telling the truth?

  Ugh, Epimetheus missed having Prometheus by his side, but his brother and Klymene were never apart these days. Wouldn’t hurt to ask for his help, though.

  “Brother, where are you? Tartarus hasn’t claimed me, despite Kronos’ best efforts, but I need your help,” Epimetheus thought at his twin with all his might.

  Something odd happened. It was like he sensed Prometheus getting his message, but then their link went dead. Was his brother in peril? Epimetheus tried to feel him again, but his focus kept returning to the female in his embrace. She leaned her forehead against his chest and whimpered something he didn’t understand. He should leave her here and go find his brother—start at Mount Othrys—but he couldn’t abandon her. Something inside her called to him. Or it was the shackles closing around him.

  She said something else, more loudly, but he still didn’t catch it. Maybe she needed water? It was always good for the spirit. Without letting go, he splayed his hand parallel to the ground and called forth water, from the depths of the earth. A spring erupted within a meter from them, and he gently turned Elpida toward it. “Ύδωρ,” he said.

  “Neroh?” she asked.

  That had to mean the same thing—water. He nodded and took her hand to lead her to the jet coming straight up as high as his hip. Elpida followed him gingerly. Her hair had come loose and framed her beautiful face in honey-colored waves. He itched to dig his fingers in it, but she needed to drink and have her strength restored. And then maybe he could see more of what she hid under all that fabric. He cupped his free palm, and she held her hair back from her face with bo
th her hands and leaned closer. Her lips touched his skin as she gulped greedily at the water he gathered for her, and the contact sent a bolt of desire to his penis, that stood proudly a few centimeters from her face.

  Elpida straightened and jumped back, her gaze on his erection. Did she realize she was licking her lips? Her eyes were glazed over.

  Epimetheus heard the speeding of her pulse and knew without a doubt he could make her his right here and now if he closed the distance between them, but his need to do so scared him. He’d sworn to never love another mortal female after losing Pandora. Could he remain sentimentally detached from Elpida if he claimed her body, when he felt so drawn to her after having barely touched her?

  Besides, he might still have to kill her.

  But not yet. When he tore his gaze from how her chiton clung to her breasts, heavy with water she spilled down her front, he saw a smattering of stars he didn’t recognize in the distance. This wasn’t his world, and Elpida could help him navigate his surroundings until he knew where he was and how to get to his brother.

  She said something else he didn’t understand, but when she pointed at the beast and moved toward it, he turned and followed. She grabbed its side and pulled, and a flap opened. It seemed hard and unyielding.

  The beast shone. No, light spilled out of its belly as well as through what he’d thought of as dark stone until now. What was this material that looked clear as water but remained upright? Or was it water and she somehow manipulated it?

  Epimetheus stood frozen in place as Elpida climbed inside and made herself comfortable. Not a beast. A contraption? Had she harnessed the sun, or was this fire? But she wasn’t burning. Might she be a goddess or a witch? But she felt human. Smelled human. Smelled incredible.

  For the first time in his very long life, Epimetheus’ footing was unsteady, as he approached her. With sickening certainty, he knew it wasn’t the where he was that should trouble him, but the when.

  Elpida pulled the flap shut between them and motioned for him to round the thing, before the light vanished again and the beast roared to life. He should save his woman.

  Not his woman. His woman was long dead.

  Now that he’d seen the inside of the thing, he knew to look for her, as Elpida leaned across its width and pushed open the flap at his side. “Bess mesa,” she said.

  The words meant nothing to him, but they must be an invitation to join her. He carefully slipped inside the opening and rested his weight in the most comfortable seat he had ever sat in.

  She barked a word and drew a strap over her chest, to secure it at her hip.

  Epimetheus might not be the smart one in the family, but he wasn’t slow, either. He looked to his side and found an identical strap, which he used the way she had, then took in the gleaming surfaces around him.

  Was this a building of this time? Kind of cramped. He liked his open spaces more, but after where he’d just been, he wasn’t about to protest.

  Elpida spoke again, gesturing at the flap, and he pulled it shut so hard, the entire building shook.

  “Opa,” she said.

  He hated not understanding her. Especially when she started rambling. He caught the occasional word, which cemented his theory that he had magically woken up in the future. She was worried someone would kill her? Could she read his mind? Did she see he was considering it?

  Was he still, though? Because a moment ago he was about to save her from what he’d thought was a beast.

  Pfft. He feared no beast. He was keeping her alive because he needed her. If she was sent by Kronos, like Rhea said, Epimetheus had to find out more about his plans.

  If she wasn’t...

  The thing they were in moved backward and swerved, and he snapped his head her way. What was happening?

  She moved a stick that stood upright between them, and they lurched forward and kept going, gaining speed by the plethron.

  This was... This was incredible.

  Chapter Five

  Okay. She was okay. In a car with a naked stranger who might have made water spring out of the earth, but okay. About to get her ass fired, but okay.

  Was she okay, though? She had the mother of all premonitions, assuming her ability to glimpse the future was real. But it might have been a slow descent into madness instead. Or a brain tumor that was done giving her warning signs. Or a hallucination. Or an aneurysm.

  How long did people survive with a burst aneurysm?

  She needed a doctor. Had to go to the hospital.

  Shit. Good luck finding one nearby, with no GPS.

  Her dashboard screen lit up, right on cue. Thank God. She stopped the car, unwilling to risk going down a cliff because she couldn’t wait a couple minutes, and set the Agria primary health-care unit, twenty kilometers from here, as her new destination. The light on the dashboard flashed five minutes past one in the morning. She was fired anyway. Daphne could wait another hour.

  “We’ll go to the hospital,” she told Epimetheus, who watched her face intently through wild dark locks of his hair when she turned to glance at him. He probably didn’t catch a single word, but his being here calmed her. It made no sense, when she should be threatened by his size and nudity, but he emanated a quiet strength that grounded her jittery energy.

  “They’ll look me over, and if you’re really real, they’ll look you over too. Maybe they’ll find someone who understands you.” More to herself than to him, she mumbled, “While I go pick up Madame Bitch.”

  “Calling Daphne on mobile,” AVA said from where Elpida’s phone lay.

  “No. No, no, no. Cancel.” Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Where was her phone? The voice had come from the floor, at Epimetheus’ feet.

  “Can you get my phone?” she asked him.

  He gave her a blank stare.

  It might be her imagination, but she thought she heard Daphne screaming her head off.

  “My phone.” She pointed between his legs. “Down there.”

  One corner of Epimetheus’ mouth tugged upward. He gave a tiny shrug, sat back straighter, and with a sweep of his palm indicated his penis. Which was erect. And she had to keep thinking of it as penis, to ignore the words monster cock that flashed through her mind.

  Did he think she was asking if she could have his cock? “No. Put that thing away. Argh.” She bit the bullet and dove between his legs, trying not to stare at the thing so close to her face. For someone who’d been underground till moments ago, Epimetheus smelled clean. And masculine. And she should stop sniffing him.

  She snatched the phone and sat back up. The screen declared the call had failed.

  Thank fuck.

  “Hey AVA, tell Daphne I’ll be there in two hours. I’ve had an emergency,” she said. The text wouldn’t do much to calm Daphne down, but Elpida could say she did her best.

  Her phone rang almost immediately, and she let it go to voice mail, then killed the sound. “And off to the hospital we go.”

  It was awkward, driving in silence, with an extremely hot and very naked man sitting beside her. The Ford felt confining. She reached in the back seat for a denim jacket she left there a month ago, and dropped it in Epimetheus’ lap. “Not that this can hide much, but I run less of a chance of grabbing your thing instead of gear shift,” she muttered.

  He watched her—not through the mirror, but looked straight at her. His scrutiny was unnerving.

  “Can you understand any of the words I’m saying?” She snorted. “Of course you can’t. Maybe you bumped your head.” She pointed to her head, and jumped in her seat, making the car lurch, when he pushed his fingers through her hair and tucked a strand behind her ear. His touch was so electrifying, she wouldn’t be surprised if she had another vision.

  Not a vision. A hallucination. Her visions only allowed a glimpse a few seconds into the future. She doubted she’d fall in love with him and die in the next few seconds. Though when his fingers lingered, she had the near-irresistible urge to rub her cheek against his palm and kiss it.


  Tumor. Those tended to affect sexual behavior. Would the health-care unit have a CT scanner?

  Epimetheus trailed his thumb along her jawline, and then ghosted it across her bottom lip.

  Oh dear Lord, she wanted to wrap her lips around it and suck. And she was going to run off the road if he didn’t stop touching her.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” she said and leaned to the left.

  He must have gotten the point, because he dropped his hand on his thigh and fisted it.

  Boy, was it hot in here? Elpida cracked open the window. If she were alone, she’d be talking to herself. Since there wasn’t much chance of a conversation happening here anytime soon, there was no reason not to do the same.

  “I bet you were mugged,” she said. “Maybe picked up a hitchhiker”—not that she’d seen anyone walking along the road all the time she was driving, but weirder things happened—“who attacked you and stole your car and money. And clothes, of course. He thought he killed you and decided to bury you.”

  She scrunched her nose. “Nah. Why go through all this trouble? He could have ditched you by the side of the road. Same if you were a hit-and-run.”

  She chanced another glance at him. He was mouthing something, as if tasting a word before saying it. But he didn’t speak. Just stared at her. Though the gold had faded from his irises, his dark eyes were still gorgeous. And this wasn’t a glance.

  She snapped her head forward again. The road was empty, but all sorts of animals waited to be run over by a car in the middle of rural highways.

  Gradually, the trees on the sides of the road gave way to the occasional house, and then a town came into view. Well-lit signs indicated the road to the primary health-care unit. Not all of them agreed with her navigation system, but she finally pulled up in front of the sliding glass doors. A night guard threw her a disgruntled look, but her most charming smile stopped him before he asked her to move her car.