Awakened (Eternal Guardians Book 8) Read Free

laughing children who normally played around the tents were nowhere to be seen. In fact, no sound echoed from the city save for the colorful flags high above, flapping in the morning breeze.
    Max reached back for the parazonium—the ancient Greek sword all Argonauts carried—in the sheath concealed at his back. At his side, Talisa quietly pulled twin daggers from their holders on her lower spine. Slowly, they moved into the village and drew to a stop the moment they rounded the first corner.
    A witch wearing a long pink skirt and dark jacket lay sprawled at the entrance to a tent, an arrow sticking out of her chest. Talisa knelt to feel for a pulse. A grim expression crossed her face as she looked up at Max and shook her head.
    The hair on Max’s nape stood straight. He stepped past the dead witch and moved to another body, this one in the middle of the road, and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Picking up his pace, he rounded another corner and gasped at the scene laid out before him.
    Bodies littered the ground, some sprawled in the middle of the street, others halfway out of tents as if they’d been fleeing. All with arrows protruding from them.
    “Holy gods,” Talisa whispered as she came up behind him. “What happened here?”
    “I don’t know.” A blinding red rage colored Max’s vision. A rage he’d inherited from his forefather Achilles but which he could usually control. Moving toward the closest body, he pulled an arrow from the witch’s back and stared at the weapon.
    “What army in our realm uses arrows?” Talisa muttered.
    The rage inside grew hotter. “They weren’t from our realm. They—”
    A cough echoed from a nearby tent. Talisa whipped in that direction and darted for the tent flap.
    “Godsdammit. Talisa. Wait.” Fear rushed in, overtaking the rage as Max dropped the arrow and followed. They could still be in that tent. Talisa could be walking into a trap. Talisa didn’t listen, though, and disappeared into the tent before he could stop her. Gripping the blade tightly, Max readied himself for a battle, but when he stepped inside, fear gave way to relief.
    A female lay sprawled on the ground near the far tent wall. Blood seeped from a wound in her abdomen. An arrow lay broken on the ground at her side. She twisted to look toward them, her face as pale as snow. “It’s you. I thought…”
    “Shh.” Talisa moved quickly to the witch’s side. “Try not to move.” She sheathed her daggers, then pressed her hand against the witch’s wound. “What happened here?”
    “The young. Delia took…the young.” The witch’s face scrunched in pain. Bright purple hair hung limply around her face. “Need to…make sure they’re okay.”
    Delia was the leader of the coven. Max breathed slightly easier knowing she’d managed to get the young out in time.
    “We’ll find them,” Talisa said. “Don’t worry. Can you tell us who did this?”
    The witch exhaled a long breath and closed her eyes. “They…came through the portal. We didn’t…expect them.”
    Max tugged off his jacket and handed it to Talisa, who pressed it against the witch’s wound. Kneeling on the witch’s other side, he laid a hand over the witch’s brow. Her skin was cool and clammy. “Sirens?”
    Talisa’s wide-eyed gaze darted to his.
    “Y-yes,” the witch breathed.
    “What the hell are Sirens doing in Argolea?” Talisa whispered.
    Max didn’t know, but whatever their reason, it clearly wasn’t good. “We have to warn the Argonauts. They could be halfway to Tiyrns by now.”
    He pushed up, but the witch grasped his arm, stopping him. Her cold fingers closed over the ancient Greek text that ran down his forearms and entwined his fingers. “They’re not…going to Tiyrns. They…left.”
    Max focused on the witch’s jet-black eyes. “What do you mean, left?”
    “They went”—the witch cringed—“back through the portal. With her.”
    A warning tingle rushed down Max’s spine.
    “Her who?” Talisa