Knowing where he was would help. “Earth” meant nothing to him, but maybe what Sophronia called her home world was just a different name for something he did know. It was too big for Atlantis, too pleasant—despite the ruffians chasing an innocent woman—for Tartarus, and he’d already ruled out the Underworld. It definitely wasn’t Thalyria, even if he took into consideration the places he wasn’t familiar with, such as the nearly inaccessible Ice Plains. The northern reaches of Thalyria weren’t quite god touched, but they were almost dangerous enough to be so, especially with Mount Olympus looming in the distance.

Which brought him back to Attica. Athena’s favored world.

But that didn’t add up, either. There was magic here. Wasn’t there? Sophronia called it technology, but to him, it seemed synonymous so far.

“Are you okay in there?” she called through the door.

Piers reluctantly turned off the water. “Your turn in just a moment,” he called back.

He’d been hesitant to go up into this hired chamber with her, but she’d insisted, and in the end, he didn’t appear to have the correct currency to pay for his own space. He’d pulled out several gold coins, but Sophronia had just closed his hand back around them, her eyes wide, telling him they’d look into that later, when they had time.

“There’s no hurry. I took a shower this morning.” She paused, laughing a little. The sound made Piers’s skin tighten. “Although, that was before I got tackled in a filthy New York alley.”

It was suddenly hard not to picture her in this very shower. Warm water, soap and suds, hands gliding all over her wet, heated body. A low groan escaped him as he pushed at the sliding doors, opening them and stepping out of the box, the perfectly transparent glass now clouded with steam and moisture.

“Are you sure you’re all right? You’re pretty beat up. That nose…”

Cool air swirled over him, and Piers reached for the fluffy white drying cloth the hotel provided. His nose ached somewhat. The rest of him seemed fine. He didn’t look exactly fine—the miraculously clear mirror in the bathroom told him so—but he’d been more broken and battered than this. War wasn’t fun, which was why he’d wanted to avoid more of it.

He cinched the big cloth around his waist, frustrated. What wasn’t he remembering?

Meet Griffin and Cat.

Avoid more bloodshed.

Protect his family.

Griffin and his ferocious wife had already conquered two realms. Did they really need a third? Cat’s ambition would get his family killed. He needed to stop it—stop her—before it was too late.

He could’ve sworn he’d found a solution. What was it? And how had it landed him here?