Time Raiders: The Greek Lover. Jocelyn Kelley
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He ran a finger along the inside of the bowl. He must have been trying to scry in the water. That made sense in a temple dedicated to the god of the sea.
“Why,” she asked quietly, “do you think I’m in danger?”
“I have seen it in my visions.” His gaze was a mixture of ice and fire. “You are in the agora. You shout something wordless. A shadow rises behind you, ready to consume you. I am there, too, because it is my fate to defend you from that shadow.”
Her breath hissed between her teeth. She hadn’t expected him to say that. From other Time Raiders, she’d learned that myth was often based on fact. Had Poseidon sent Drakon a true vision?
As if she’d asked aloud, Drakon said, “I serve Poseidon, telling men who sail his seas when it is too perilous to sail. I know the signs pointing to danger, and they surround you. You must let me hide you in my brother-in-law’s house. In addition to my sister Charis, there are at least a half dozen women in the household. No one will notice you among them. You can stay there until Poseidon tells me it is safe for you again.”
“No.”
“What?” Anger tightened his face’s stern lines. “You will ignore a warning from a god?”
Zoe was tempted to say she could take care of herself. It’d be fun to take him down a peg or two by telling him that she was a former army captain, trained on multiple weapons and hand-to-hand self-defense. She couldn’t risk her mission. “I’ve got my own reasons to be in Athens, and if you don’t want to help me…”
He seized her arm again. “I am trying to help you. The danger to you is real, and it is deadly.”
Zoe drew her arm out of Drakon’s grip, wary of being tossed back into his vision. Her body quaked with unreleased need. If he hadn’t dropped the bowl just then…
Focus!
“Thanks for the warning,” she said, backing away. “Gotta go and—”
Something crunched under her foot. Sorrow flickered across Drakon’s face, and she knew what she’d stepped on. A piece of his scrying bowl. She reached down. The second her fingers closed around the piece of broken pottery, another image began to form in her mind. She recognized the feeling of a door silently opening. This vision came from her own psychometric ability that allowed her to see someone else just by touching what they’d touched. She’d promised Professor Carswell that she would allow her ability to come forward, but the thought had been disturbing. What if she made another mistake by misunderstanding what she saw?
But she couldn’t be confused this time. A woman cried out in the pain of childbirth. Her eyes turned toward Zoe. They were the same odd color as Drakon’s. Was she part of his family or was it coincidence?
A tall woman, calm and assured, crouched by the bed and gripped the pregnant woman’s hand. When the pregnant woman’s face contorted with pain, the tall woman held a shallow bowl to her lips. Drakon’s black bowl! The pregnant woman drank, clutching the bowl like a lifeline, and the tall woman moved to help guide the baby out.
Drakon grabbed the pottery shard. Again their hands touched. His rugged, warm fingers surrounded hers. Before she could savor his touch, the women’s voices became distinct.
“Charis, push,” the small woman murmured. “Let your son be born.”
Zoe yelped as Drakon yanked the piece from her hand. The vision vanished. His scowl suggested he wished she would, too.
Charis was the woman giving birth. Charis was the name of his sister, the one he wanted her to hide her with? Maybe this connection explained why Zoe had landed in Poseidon’s temple.
“Are you sure Charis will be willing to have a guest,” Zoe asked carefully, “when she’s just had a baby?”
“How do you know that?” His frown dug ruts into his forehead.
“News of a healthy son spreads quickly.” She hoped she’d chosen the right answer.
She must have because Drakon nodded. “My sister is generous of heart, and she heeds the gods. Tonight, the family is celebrating the baby’s arrival. Nobody will take note of you going in, but not coming out.”
Zoe wasn’t going to let him lock her away like a princess in a tower, but she needed to talk with Charis. The tall woman in the vision was a midwife. If that wasn’t Agnodice, maybe Charis could help Zoe find her.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll go to your sister’s house.”
He gripped her chin. Any warmth had disappeared from his face. “Why are you changing your mind?”
“Isn’t it a woman’s prerogative?”
His frown warned that he didn’t believe her. Why should he when she was lying?
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