I focused once again on the playing field, trying to determine how to gain the upper hand. But my heart sank when I realized how thoroughly trapped I was. Though not familiar with the City of Light, I knew the car was speeding away from the river, the center of town. Away from my sisters and safety. And the stranger seemed fully aware of what had gone on at the riverbank. He must have known Paris was following me. He also knew where I would be and how to get me where he wanted me—here, in his car, hurtling through the night, with no clear avenue of escape.
“This isn’t the way to Notre Dame.” I turned to face him directly. The darkness in his eyes made me wince inwardly. But I wasn’t afraid. This was a situation I could handle easily, though the stranger would be much the worse for wear. I wasn’t about to be the punchline of some kidnap plot retold by my enemies on Olympus at my expense. I kept calm and summoned my power. My palms tingled again, the harbinger of the stranger’s death. He may have sprung the trap, but I was no ordinary quarry.
He raised a hand and rubbed a lock of my hair between his thumb and forefinger. He moved so fast I barely caught the flicker of his arm. Now I knew he was no ordinary hunter. He sifted the golden strands and looked at them with something edging on wonder. My palms were no longer simply tingling, they were burning with the desire to strike the presumptuous stranger down. Never had a male dared to take such liberties with me. But I sat still, playing along until I saw the perfect opening to strike. Moves had to be made in their turn.
“I thought you were lost to me. Do you have any idea how long I have been searching for you?” He spoke softly now, but he stared past me, through me, as if lost in memory.
His voice. Now so close in the car, it was like a cold caress, and it was familiar. Without understanding how or where or why, I realized I knew this man. My heart sped to a rapid pace, a mix of terror and déjà vu washing over me. Goosebumps broke out along my skin, and a sense of dark foreboding cut deep. I was in danger, as sure as if I were in the midst of a battle of the gods.
“Stop the car. Let me out.” The coldness in my voice rivaled the chill of apprehension in my heart.
“I can’t do that, Helen. Not now that I have you again.”
“My name is Elena, not Helen. And if you don’t let me out, you are going to regret it in a multitude of painful ways.” I no longer bothered hiding my power. The palms of my hands glowed a deep orange as orbs of flame lit there, fire ready to rip from them and tear the stranger to pieces.
But something was different. My magic was still powerful, could easily torch the stranger and the car—but the orbs were perhaps a little smaller, the fire a tinge darker. What was happening? It wasn’t just my magic—I felt different, the low hum of the goddess’s influence no longer imbuing my body. Only one thing could cause such a shift—Artemis had abandoned me. Why? I was struck dumb, unable to believe it. My moon mother had turned her back right when I needed her the most. What in Hades is going on?
The stranger, unaware of the change, glanced down at my hands for a moment before returning those dark eyes to mine. “I’m not afraid of you, Helen.”
I pushed past my rising panic about Artemis and focused my ire on the stranger. “That is a tactical mistake you won’t recover from.” The flaming orbs grew larger. One touch and he would burn. Both touches and he would be ashes. Then I could return to Olympus to beg forgiveness for whatever I’d done to displease my mistress. “Tell your driver to stop. Now.”
“I’m sorry to do this. I truly am, my love, but you leave me no choice,” he said with a note of false resignation tinged with exhilaration. He was enjoying this. As if he were toying with me all along.
“That’s it. I gave you a chance.” I raised my hands and pressed them to the creature’s chest. The fire should have sent him up in a blaze of screaming agony.
The stranger suffered no injury. My fire pierced him, yet did no damage. In fact, he smiled.
I took my hands away and stared at them, wondering if I should shake them into working properly. “Moon mother, please,” I whispered.
“You can’t hurt me, my love. But unfortunately,” he continued, and whisked out a pair of engraved silver bangles, “you could harm others in my employ.” He spared a glance toward the driver.