Salvaged Soul (The Ignited Series Book 3) (8 page)

Chapter 8

{Nathan}

Either Kira took acting classes as a child, or she enjoyed her role as the blushing bride a little too much. To anyone watching us, I undoubtedly looked like a big asshole, but no way was I about to take our cover as newlyweds to the level of embarrassing displays of PDA. Fortunately, we never encountered any Skotadi on our way to the airport, so I wasn’t forced to up the act.

By the time we were securely in the air, leaving Costa Rica, she had relented a little. Probably only because I had requested a set of headphones before take-off, and pretended to be sleeping to the sounds of eighties hits by the time we hit cruising altitude. I had a hell of a time biting my tongue on the lyrics to the Aerosmith in my ear, but Kira knowing I was awake and free to talk to her was much worse.

The previous late night with Kris eventually caught up to me, and I fell asleep sometime after we crossed the Gulf of Mexico into the United States. After a few hours of sleep, an elbow to the ribs served as an effective alarm clock. My eyes snapped open and Kira smiled at me, but it wasn’t a happy smile. I didn’t need to know
her
—I only needed to know girls in general—to pick up on her aggravation. She said something, and even though I couldn’t hear her with the headphones on, I could read her lips.

We were descending. 

I sat up straight in my seat and fastened my seatbelt, but the headphones stayed on. I had every intention of holding onto those for as long as possible. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop Kira from lifting them from my ear every now and again to suggest some place for us to
visit . . . or catch dinner . . . or see a play.

With a groan load enough to catch the attention of the older woman across the aisle from us, I whipped the headphones off and turned to glare at Kira. Because I had drawn a small audience, I lowered my voice. “You do know we’re not actually on our honeymoon, right?”

Daggers shot from her eyes before she put on her fake, happily married face. “Our connecting flight isn’t until tomorrow morning. What do you expect us to do for the next few hours? We at least have to eat something.”

I had planned on greasy take-out and a cheap pay-per-view movie. But being in the hotel room longer than absolutely necessary, alone with Kira, probably wasn’t a good idea. Not with the way she took this whole honeymoon thing so seriously.

“We’ll see,” I grumbled, and turned to watch out my window as the ground drew closer. On the outside, I appeared simply interested in the landing. Internally, my thoughts were in overdrive.

Kira was taking this way too seriously. I knew it was more than just obeying orders and personating a role. She was playing a game. She was playing to win, and I was the prize.

Surely she would let up once we met back up with the others, but for now? I feared a long night ahead.

We ended up eating at a bar and grill that had a large screen television on every wall. It was a compromise. Better than the greasy fast food I’d had my heart set on, but far from the romantic fine dining she had suggested. And this way, I could watch the baseball game on the screen over her head while pretending to be halfway listening to her.

After dinner, I adamantly refused to take a stroll through downtown like she wanted, but upon returning to the hotel, I wondered if that hadn’t been the smarter, safer choice. It was just the two of us now, alone in the suite. One king bed. Great.

I set my bag down on the sofa in the sitting area adjacent to the bedroom. Kira narrowed her eyes, but said nothing as she rummaged through her own bag.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she announced.

I glanced up from the television with a nod before I resumed flipping through the channels. I kept a wary eye on her, and didn’t relax until the bathroom door shut behind her, and I was finally alone.

I considered leaving before she got out of the shower, and walking around until I was certain she had fallen asleep. But with the jet lag and lack of sleep the night before, I opted to make that plan B. I could find a movie and pretend to be so into it that I couldn’t be bothered with distraction. That sounded plausible, but I worried that she might want to watch it with me, and try to get cozy on the couch. The baseball game from the bar was over, so that was out.

I spied the phone on the table next to the bed. It would have been nice to call Kris, to hear her voice, to reassure her. Because no matter how bad this was, I suspected her imagination had something far worse conjured up.

Then again, maybe not.

The bathroom door swung open, and Kira emerged. Kira and little else. 

I was reminded of a scene from a movie I had seen a long time ago, where some girl approached a guy wearing a whipped cream bikini. Kira wasn’t actually wearing whipped cream, but from the way she pranced into the room in a tight, short and . . .
oh, my God
. . . totally see-thru night gown, she might as well have been donned in whipped cream. Like the girl in the movie, Kira knew exactly what she was doing.

I couldn’t remember what the guy in the movie had done. And I really wanted to remember so that I could follow his lead, because my thought processes were a little slow on the uptake right now.

On second thought, the guy probably did what every other warm-blooded male on the planet would do in that situation, and that wasn’t something I wanted to copy.

My eyes dropped to the television. “What are you doing?”

I glanced up as Kira shot me a look of surprised innocence. “I’m getting ready for bed, silly.”

She wasn’t fooling anyone. Least of all me. I waved a finger at her . . .
outfit?
. . . before focusing on the television again. I had no idea what was on the screen, but it was safer than looking at Kira. “You can’t possibly sleep in that.”

“Actually, I prefer to sleep without any clothes on.”

When I glanced up again, the look of innocence on her face had morphed into something else entirely. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, and pulled at the collar of my shirt. Either my throat had swollen shut from the steak fajitas I had for dinner, or my shirt had shrunk. And the room was hot. Way too hot. And small. Like the walls were closing in on me. On us. I was trapped in a room with a half-naked girl—one who wasn’t my girlfriend. This was bad, so very bad.

I wondered if I was in the middle of one of Kris’s nightmares. For some reason, that thought grounded me, pulled my head out of the clouds of panic, and brought a faint smile to my lips. I wiped it clear before Kira thought I was smiling for another reason.

“You have a habit of dressing like that in front of guys you barely know?” I asked without giving her the satisfaction of looking at her. I had every intention of making it known that what was on the television was more interesting to me than her. Whatever it might have been. Because I honestly didn’t know. 

I heard a scoff, but didn’t look up. “Barely know?” Her voice dripped of venom, and I knew the girl-claws were seconds from coming out. “You know it’s not like you haven’t already seen more of me.” 

I knew it. I knew there had to have been some history between us for her to come on this strong. I hated that I didn’t remember what she remembered. I hated that I had been one of those guys. My mood sobered, but my voice stayed firm. “That was a long time ago, Kira. Things are different now.”

Another scoff. “Why? Because your dear Lillian is alive after all?”

“This has nothing to do with Lillian.”

“Who then?” Kira laughed, but it lacked humor. The claws were definitely out now, and she spat her next words. “That little Skotadi girl?”

My gaze slid wordlessly to hers. I wondered how she knew. Then again, I always suspected that anyone watching Kris and me closely enough would see through our charade. Apparently Kira had, though I wasn’t about to let her know that she was right.

If anyone on that island could make life more difficult for Kris, Kira could.

“No, Kira,” I said calmly. “I’m just not interested in anything more than completing this mission right now.”

“What happened to you?” she sneered. “After Lillian disappeared, you were a party animal, and
this
. . .” She pointed to herself, drawing my attention again to the scant clothing, and the body it barely covered. “This was how we had fun.”

No. The truth is that I had been so immersed in grief that I did anything I could to numb the pain.

I stood and tossed the remote in Kira’s general direction. It bounced on the bed beside her. “The room is all yours,” I said as I started for the door.

“Where are you going?”

I stopped with my hand on the knob, but didn’t turn around. “Anywhere but here.”

Kira didn’t stop me as I walked out.

I found myself grateful that our overnight stay was in New York, and I had places to go and things to do late into the night when most towns would shut down. A bar kept me entertained for a few hours, though I only allowed myself two beers the entire time. The bartender kept eyeing me up like I was a closet alcoholic trying, and failing, to maintain his sobriety. I didn’t return to the room until nearly two in the morning. As I had hoped, Kira was asleep. But in avoiding her, I spent another night getting very little sleep. With an early morning flight, my alarm was set to go off only two hours after I finally laid down on the couch.

Not good considering we were due to arrive in Greece tomorrow, and would be in the shadow of Mount Olympus in less than two days.

If Kira thought I had been grouchy the day before, she quickly learned how much worse it could have been. Two nights with five total hours of sleep had turned me into a cranky grizzly with a thorn in his ass. And Kira was the thorn.

I spent the entire nine-hour flight either asleep, or pretending to be asleep with the earphones on. Kira barely looked at me.

We landed in Athens without incident. With the time difference, it was late evening when we arrived. Once again, we had reservations set up for us to stay the night. But unlike the previous evening, Kira showered and went to bed with barely a glance in my direction. I slept on the couch’s pull-out bed.

The following morning, we boarded a train, and arrived at the small village of Litochoro shortly after lunch. The village was nestled between two gently rolling hills at the base of Mount Olympus, and was our final stop.

Litochoro was a low-key tourist hub for anyone wishing to climb the mountain. On any given day, hundreds, if not thousands, of tourists flocked to the village to explore the mountain or the nearby beaches. As I had learned by reading the information packet the Kala leaders had supplied each member of the team with, most of the locals were aware of the truth behind the mountain. They knew the gods and demigods existed, and resided there.

They also knew about us, and though no Kala had ever visited Mount Olympus before, they were all very excited for us to be there. They made sure to keep that excitement toned down in front of the tourists, though the girl that checked Kira and I in to our room at the Gods and Goddess Inn was a little intense.

Despite that, she was helpful, and explained that half of our team had already arrived, as she’d had the privilege of checking them all in. She had heard that the other half was due to arrive on the next two trains, and that in addition to the twelve members of our team, there were members of the European and Australian Kala colonies arriving as well.

At that, Kira and I shared a look, and my stomach dropped a little.

Three teams?

That was bad. That was very, very bad.

Alone in our room, I engaged the deadbolt and secured the chain lock while watching through the peephole to ensure that the check-in girl was in fact leaving. Once she disappeared out of sight, I spun around.

Kira stood in the middle of the room, one hand covering her mouth. “How bad is it?”

I shook my head. “I think we’ll be fine. She left. There are plenty of other Kala here for her to obsess over.”

“No, not her.” Kira’s hand dropped and struck her thigh with a
thwunk
. “The mission. How bad is it if they called in three teams?”

I shrugged in an attempt to downplay the fact that I had the same worry she had. “I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

Kira nodded, but it wasn’t convincing, and I saw the worry on her face as she turned. She didn’t believe me any more than I believed myself.

Jared knocked on the door around dinnertime, and suggested that we powwow mission details over some authentic Greek food. Just me and him, which was nice because, for one, it got me away from Kira for a couple of hours, and secondly, I hadn’t had a good gyro in years. Most importantly, Jared informed me that the two of us were a part of the six-man group chosen to ascend the mountain tomorrow morning to meet with the gods. Apparently, only a small group was needed to discuss the mission specifics with the gods, and to relay the information to the rest of the team members.