Wicked (Eternal Guardians #9) - Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,51
used her other hand to frantically feel around his neck for a pulse.
There.
Her fingers stilled. The steady rush of blood in his veins pulsed beneath her fingertips. But it was slow. Way too slow for a mortal let alone a god.
Oh shit. She looked down. Couldn’t see anything in the dark. “Zagreus?”
Still nothing.
Her heart raced. The blood pounded in her head like a doomed drumbeat as the seconds ticked by with no response. As his pulse grew even slower beneath her fingertips.
Gods couldn’t die. They lived forever. They were immortal. Her mother’s best friend Nick was a god. He couldn’t die unless—
Every thought came to a whirring stop when she remembered what her mother had once said about Nick.
He was Krónos’s son. Zeus and Hades’s brother. And Zagreus’s uncle. When he’d come into his god-powers, the Fates had told him the choice to stay with the living or move to the afterlife rested with him.
No. No, no, no, no…
“You’re bailing now?” A burst of anger surged through her. She gripped Zagreus’s jaw in both hands and lifted his face toward hers even though she couldn’t see him in the dark. “That’s bullshit, and I’m not going to let you do that. Are you listening to me? You are not going to die on me down here.”
Just as quickly as the anger hit, it rushed out, leaving her chest tight and her muscles weak.
Her head fell forward, her forehead grazing his. “Dammit, Zagreus. I need you to wake up. Too many people up there need you. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To help them? I didn’t believe it before, but I believe it now. If you die, those satyrs will come back. They’ll come back and kill everyone in this kingdom. And it’ll be my fault. You don’t want that, do you?”
Tears she didn’t understand stung her eyes. She lifted her head. Tried to see him in the dark. Still couldn’t. “They need you. I need you. Stay with me. Help me. Don’t give up. Please. I can’t do this by myself.”
He still didn’t answer, didn’t even move.
Carefully, she pressed her forehead back to his and drew in a slow breath. She could already feel her Argonaut genes healing her wounds from that battle, but something deep in her heart—something that was connected to him in a way she didn’t understand—told her she would never be the same after this night.
“U-use… the… amulet.” Zagreus’s raspy voice echoed in the dark space.
She lifted her head. Looked down at him. Still couldn’t see anything in the utter blackness. But she could hear him. Which meant he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead yet.
She sniffled. “Amulet?”
His fingertips grazed her chest, sending a burst of heat all along her flesh. She sucked in a breath and held still. Then his fingers found the chain he’d slipped over her head, and his touch traveled the length of the necklace before stopping on the fat amber-colored gem hanging between her breasts.
“I-it will give you… extra strength. Just… Just focus.”
Her breasts tingled. Heat exploded in the marking on her hip. Images from that dream flashed in her mind, making her ache for more of his touch anywhere—everywhere. Even though this wasn’t even close to the right time for that.
She blinked several times. Tried to stay focused on what she needed to do right now. Not on her stupid fantasies.
There were all kinds of magical amulets in the world. Charmed by gods and witches and mages of every race. She’d barely seen this one before he’d slipped it over her head—had no idea why he had it or what made it special—but if he was telling her to use it, he had to know how it worked.
Better yet, he knew that it could work.
She swallowed hard. “I-I’m not a mage. Or a witch. I can’t cast spells. And I already tried to break the door down with my strength. It wouldn’t budge.”
“No… spells. No… muscles. You’re strong”—his fingers lifted from her chest then grazed her forehead—“here.” His touch slid to her temple. “Use… this.”
His touch disappeared, and she heard the soft thud as his hand dropped to land against his thigh. The muscles in his neck relaxed even more, pushing the weight of his head against her palm.
She swallowed hard. He was growing weaker. If she didn’t try something, he really was going to die here. And for reasons she wasn’t ready to examine just yet, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen.