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

  Elpida reached in the door pocket for her belt bag, and hooked it around her waist as she got out of the car. “We’ll be right out,” she told the guard. Would they, though? More importantly, how was she getting Epimetheus in there without any clothes on? Her denim jacket wouldn’t cut it.

  Oh! She had tablecloths in the trunk for sampling. She grabbed one and kind of threw it on Epimetheus as he let himself out of the passenger side without her help. He held the cloth in front of him, her jacket in his other hand, and looked at her questioningly.

  She pointed to the denim. “Leave that in the car.” Then to the table cloth. “Put this on.” Nothing. She grabbed the jacket and threw in in the car, then shut the door. “Here. Let me.” Her offer to help wasn’t so she’d touch more of him, but when she wrapped her arms around his waist, to bring up the fabric at his back, her chest pressed against the hard planes of his body.

  Epimetheus dropped his arms, trapping hers in place, and lowered his face until their lips were millimeters apart. Her nipples hardened, and her belly tightened with anticipation she shouldn’t be feeling. Would he kiss her?

  Yes, please. She wanted him to. Needed him to slant his mouth over hers, press her back into her car, and have his way with her.

  Was she going cave woman? The guy could be a blubbering idiot, for all she knew. They hadn’t exchanged a single meaningful word. But her body arched into his, a ball of molten need growing in her core, as his heartbeat reverberated against her chest and his hardness pressed into her belly. If she tilted her head up a fraction—

  “Wanna move this inside?” the guard asked, and the moment was gone.

  “Sorry.” Elpida hurried to tie together the ends of the cloth and tuck them in, only grazing Epimetheus’ skin with her fingertips, then clasped his arm above the elbow, to turn him toward the entrance.

  He resisted for a heartbeat, and then allowed her to lead him through the sliding panels and to the counter with the sign that read Information.

  A young woman with mussed hair and sleepy eyes looked up at her through the safety glass. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

  “I bumped my head. And I... found this guy.” And the two things might be related. Though the way the woman’s eyes lit up when her gaze landed on Epimetheus, her expression turning completely awake and more than a little hungry, confirmed he wasn’t a figment of Elpida’s imagination.

  “Right. Please take a ticket from there”—the woman pointed at a machine Elpida had missed beside the entrance—“and we’ll call your number when it’s up.”

  Elpida looked at the empty waiting area behind her. “Wait for our turn?”

  The woman nodded, still staring openly at Epimetheus. Greek public health sector at its finest. Elpida should have called her insurance and have Epimetheus and herself taken to a private clinic, but she hadn’t been thinking. They could leave, but now they were here, they might as well get checked out.

  Epimetheus let her tug him to the first row of plastic seats, but stood beside her instead of slumping into one, like she did.

  The large round clock on the wall ticked out twenty-three minutes, and Elpida was about to reconsider taking her chances with the local medical care, when the sliding doors opened and a police officer walked in. His curly blond hair spilled down his shoulders when he took off his cap and approached the information desk. The rules about grooming had to be looser here than in Athens.

  The young woman at the desk beamed at him and said something Elpida didn’t hear, before pointing at her and Epimetheus.

  The cop nodded and looked at Epimetheus over his shoulder, before turning on his heel and strutting straight to them. “I think you found my missing person.” He grinned at Elpida and held out his hand.

  Chapter Six

  Epimetheus swallowed a growl when the man with the blond curls closed his hand around Elpida’s. Every nerve in his body told him not to allow another male to touch his woman.

  But she wasn’t his woman, and Kronos was sneaky, for sending someone to whom Epimetheus would feel such raw attraction. Unless she’d been made this way specifically so he’d be unable to resist her. Like Pandora.

  But no. When they arrived to this building with the odd openings on all its walls, he’d managed to touch her thoughts for a brief second—as long as her nipples had grazed his chest through the sheer fabric of what she wore around her torso and shoulders—and he’d seen no guile. Only a desire, the ferocity of which matched his.

  Exactly Like Pandora.

  How cruel could his brother be, to replicate Zeus’ deceitful ways?

  Cruel enough to have left Epimetheus in the damp earth for what must have been centuries.

  The mortal man turned to him, hand outstretched. Epimetheus didn’t expect to understand what anyone around him said at this point, so he didn’t try. He did, however, take the man’s hand like he’d seen Elpida do, and tried not to crush it as he probed into the man’s head.

  A sly smile curled the guy’s lips, and light—pure and white and brighter than the sun himself—filled Epimetheus’ mind like a wave. It slammed against the walls of his skull, and then receded, leaving behind everything Epimetheus needed to know.

  The year was 2018 after the birth of humanity’s latest major deity. Which came about thirty-odd thousand years after the Titanomachy, the fight between Olympians and Titans, that condemned the latter to Tartarus.

  Only, while these facts were branded into Epimetheus’ mind, it was like a different history unfolded at the same time. He saw Titans fighting on Zeus’ side, only for him to hunt them down afterward, and curse them into stasis for eternity. This version felt more real. The duplicity wouldn’t surprise Epimetheus. He hadn’t trusted Zeus in years—ages, according to this latest info—and should count himself lucky for having been bested by Kronos, or he might have spent all this time aware and trapped inside his own body. At least his mind was intact now. And the Olympians had faded from existence.

  “Your family has been worried about you, Mr. Titanas,” the mortal said.

  Apparently Epimetheus now understood this era’s language. And that he’d come here in a car, and that this was some sort of a hospital. He formed the right words in his head and uttered them slowly. “My family?”

  The man nodded. “Your brothers. They informed us you might be lost in this area.”

  Epimetheus glimpsed a hint of an aura around the blond curls. Distrust rose up inside, but he suppressed it. Maybe the human had Olympian blood in him—Chaos knew Zeus dipped his dick in anything that’d have him—but he wasn’t a threat. And he’d mentioned Epimetheus’ brothers. “Can you take me to them?” Epimetheus asked with contained hope.

  “They’ll be here in a couple of days. In the meantime, I can get you something to wear, while Ms...”

  “Elpida Pilioti. Elpida is fine.” She turned to Epimetheus. “I thought you didn’t speak Greek.”

  So this was Greek? They’d really messed up the language while he was gone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I honestly couldn’t make sense of words until just now. I must have hit my head.”

  She didn’t seem convinced, her eyes—chocolate was the right color he knew now—bore into him like she was searching for his secret. Like he was as much a mystery to her as she was to him.

  “I think your number’s up,” the man—police officer—said to her, pointing at numbers blinking on a board above the information desk.

  “Right. He’ll have to be examined by a doctor too.” She tilted her head toward Epimetheus.

  “I feel fine now.” Epimetheus searched for the right expression. “It’s all coming back to me.”

  “Still—”

  “I’ll take his statement and make sure he’s looked after.” The policeman placed his hand on the small of her back and nudged her toward the examination rooms.

  Epimetheus watched her go, the curve of her round ass stretching the denim. Her hair was loose now, reaching her shoulders in honey-blond waves and bouncing with every step. She had the grace of a ballet dancer, and he was glad to have words to put to the thought.

  As soon as she was behind Door 1, the man said, “So what happened to you, Mr. Titanas? I assume you were robbed.”

  Sounded good. “Yes.”

  “And you don’t remember your attacker’s description.”

  Convenient. “Indeed, I don’t.”

  “And since you have no money, you cannot go home until your brothers are here, nor can you have money wired to you without paperwork.”

  Too convenient. The man was feeding him lie after lie. Why? “You seem to have the perfect story for me.” And where was Epimetheus supposed to stay?

  The man smiled. “Your brother Prometheus said this must be the case.”

  So Prometheus was free of Zeus’ curse and had obviously gotten to this mortal. Must be why the man had the real story about what really happened to the Titans in his mind, overlapping the myth. Epimetheus chuckled. “My brother is usually right. I believe you mentioned clothes?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.” The man left and returned moments later with an armful of gray clothing Epimetheus recognized as sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, as well as a pair of shoes. “These should fit,” the man said.

  “Thank you.” Epimetheus undid the lilac tablecloth Elpida had put on him, and dropped it to the floor.

  “Hey. Didn’t wanna see that.” The mortal turned his gaze to the ceiling. Stupid human, averting his eyes from the most natural thing in the world.

  Epimetheus’ gaze met that of the information-desk clerk. She didn’t seem bothered. A pretty blush spread up her cheeks when he winked at her. He wanted to make Elpida blush again too.

  He pulled on the pants and drew the shirt over
his head. No surprise, since the policeman was controlled by Prometheus, both were the perfect fit. Socks were next. He managed them standing up, but had to take a seat, to put on the sneakers. Laces weren’t as easy to tie as they seemed in the memories he’d absorbed from the man, but he finally came up with two perfect bows, if he said so himself. “Ready. What now?” he asked. He hoped they wouldn’t have to leave before Elpida was out. He wouldn’t mind seeing her one more time. Maybe give her a goodbye kiss.

  The man’s blue eyes sparkled as his grin reached them. “Now you go home with Ms. Pilioti, and we hope for the best.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Your pen.” Elpida pointed absentmindedly at the fountain pen the young doctor put in his breast pocket. It was about to leak ink and stain his white robe, which she knew because she’d seen it in her head.

  Dr. Athanasiou patted his breast pocket without looking down, and the ink spilled through the fabric to spread blue all over his fingertips. Sometimes her premonitions didn’t work out the way she wanted them to, but at least this damage was minimal.

  What about dying in Epimetheus’ arms?

  No, that wasn’t a premonition. The good doctor would tell her she had a concussion, and she could go home and not sleep it off.

  “I hate when this happens.” He stood to wash his hands, though it didn’t do much good. He returned and sat in front of her, light pen in hand. He flashed the narrow beam into her left eye, then the right. “Pupils react to the light.” He put the light pen in his stained pocket, cursed softly, and took it out to toss it on the examination bed beside her. “Follow my finger without moving your head?” He moved his index finger slowly in a semicircle, a few centimeters from her face, and Elpida tracked its arch with her gaze.

  “Good. Hold out both hands, palms up.” He rolled his stool back a little, to give her room, and pressed down on her hands with his. Finally he asked her to relax and tapped her knees with his reflex hammer. Both legs jerked as they should.

  “Everything seems fine.” He returned to his desk and gave her a look that said he’d seen her type before and didn’t like it.

  “What about”—she couldn’t bring herself to tell this baby doctor about her hallucinations, when he was determined to dismiss her—“my headaches?”

  He rolled his eyes. “If those are chronic, you need to schedule an appointment with a neurologist. It’s not a case for the ER.”

  “Because you’re so swamped.” She didn’t bother covering the sarcasm in her tone as she stood and grabbed her bag. “Thanks a lot.”

  “No problem. Enjoy the rest of your night.” His pleasantness sounded fake, and she didn’t return it.

  She flung the door open and strode out of there. Epimetheus might not be done with his examination yet. She’d wait to make sure he was all right, and then go on with her life, tonight being no more than a memory. The thought squeezed around her chest, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Why was the possibility of never seeing him again affecting her so much?

  She didn’t get to ponder it longer, because Epimetheus stood leaning against the peeling wall by the information desk. Nobody should look as good as he did in a pair of gray sweatpants and a matching shirt, but the fabric hugged his muscles like it was made for him.

  And how come a cop a head shorter and much leaner than Epimetheus had these clothes lying around in his car?

  Epimetheus smiled and held up the tablecloth she’d used as a makeshift skirt for him, folded into a neat square. “Thank you for this. Everything all right?”

  She was not all right. She was being paranoid. “I should be asking you that.” She accepted the cloth with a forced smile and looked around, but there was no sign of the cop. “What did the doctor say?”

  Epimetheus waved away her concern. “I’m fine. Just a bump.”

  “Do you know how you ended up buried there?”

  His mouth tightened when he said, “No. Must have been hit from behind.”

  But what was he doing in the middle of nowhere? “Where were you attacked?”

  “I don’t want to go over this again.” The man gave puppy eyes better than her brother’s actual puppy did. “Do you mind?”

  “No. I understand.” But she didn’t—not really. He was a mystery, and she wanted to peel away all of his layers and cradle his heart in her palms. Only that made him sound like an onion, and her like a serial killer.

  They stared at each other, neither speaking, for longer than she felt comfortable. “So what do you do now?” she finally asked.

  His smile could have melted off her panties if the two of them were someplace more private. “That depends on you. I have no papers, no money, and no place to stay for the next two nights, until my brothers come for me.”

  Huh. She could take him home. No, he wasn’t a stray. “I can loan you money for a hotel room. Where are they meeting you?”

  Was it her, or did his smile falter? “That would be incredibly kind. Thank you. Do you think you can also give me a ride to Athens?” he said.

  Elpida’s heart slammed behind her ribs. She could spend more time with him. “I’d love— Shit. The bitch.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s... I have to pick up my boss first. She’s in Pelion. Do you mind if we take a detour?”

  Smile at full wattage again, he made a sweeping gesture toward the door. “Not at all. It’ll give us more time to get to know each other.”

  And maybe give her time to fall for him.

  Nope. Wasn’t gonna do that. Because she’d never see him again once they were back in Athens. And in the meantime, she could enjoy his company. She hooked her arm around his and let him lead her to her car. This time, instead of looking at the thing like it was about to bite him, he even got her door for her. She sat behind the wheel, staring at the folded tablecloth in her hand. This was real. Tangible. Soothing.

  Epimetheus took it from her with a chuckle, returned it to the trunk, and then swaggered around the car and glided into the passenger seat.

  Elpida buckled her seat and started the car, and—

  She was crawling on top of him, clawing at his button-down shirt until she could press her hands to hot, bare flesh. His hands skated up her thighs, lifting her skirt. He cupped her ass and kneaded, pressing her into his hardness. Her thong was soaked. The windows’ being fogged by their panted breaths wasn’t enough to hide them from any onlookers. She was too old for this. She should be over making out with men in cars. But she couldn’t wait till they were home. She needed him inside her. Needed him to fill and stretch her.

  Epimetheus let go long enough to adjust the chair so she had more wiggle room, and she undid his belt and popped the buttons of his fly. He was free and hard and thick, throbbing in her palm.

  “I want you,” he purred. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything, I want you.” The words seeped inside her as he claimed her lips again. He tasted like alcohol and dark chocolate, and his urgency amplified her hunger.

  Wow, that was intense. And she kind of regretted being thrown back to the present so soon. She pretended to look back over her shoulder, to catch a glimpse of Epimetheus. He was watching her, his eyes liquid gold.

  Could he see what was on her mind?

  That was stupid. Of course he couldn’t. Then again, he shouldn’t have color-changing eyes, either. She squirmed in her seat, slickness coating the apex of her thighs. In her premonition, they were in different clothes. If it came true, she would see him again. And then what? Climb him like a tree and never let go?

  Die?

  “Ready to meet the wicked witch?” she asked with faked cheer as she cracked her window. The belt of her bag dug into her stomach, but she couldn’t take the time to undo it. She needed to be on the open road, the wind cooling down the lust setting her skin on fire.

  The gold disappeared from his irises. “What witch?” His voice, smooth as velvet before, now echoed harsh inside the cabin of the car.

  “My boss. Not a witch, but definitely a bitch more often than not.” She pulled up the map on the car’s navigation system and reset their destination. “Let’s hope we make it there with no more surprises.” Though she really didn’t mind the tall, dark, and handsome surprise sitting beside her.