Night of the Tiger

Chapter Twelve

The stranger leaned against the wall just inside the doorway. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants that clung to the thick muscles of his thighs. The olive drab T-shirt he wore was stretched at the seams, barely containing his wide shoulders. Combat boots covered his feet. He looked like a cover model for Soldier of Fortune magazine. Even without any obvious weapons, there was no mistaking the lethal air surrounding him.

He was handsome, in a classic sense. His hair was jet black, his skin darkly tanned. But it was his eyes that both drew and repelled her at the same time. They were as dark as midnight and as cold as the dead of winter.

“Who are you?”

She knew she should be screaming bloody murder. There was a strange man in her bedroom, and a dangerous-looking one at that. But after everything else that had happened, she was beyond hysterics. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty, but other than that, she was surprisingly calm about the entire situation. She’d settled herself to the fact that she probably wasn’t going to survive the next twelve hours or so. With that decision made, a sense of peace had settled over her, a sense of purpose.

“You can call me Mordecai.”

Why was that name familiar to her?

One corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “Mentioned me, did he?”

It came to her with her next breath. “You’re one of the warriors.”

He pushed away from the wall, all sinewy grace, and prowled toward her. She backed away from the dresser, not wanting to get hemmed in. He might be one of Roric’s friends, but something about him gave her the willies.

His smile deepened, but it wasn’t a pleasant thing to see. It reminded her too much of the smile Hades had given her in her dream. She shivered and shifted closer to the window. She could always jump if it came to that.

“You’re smarter than I expected.” His low, purring tone raised the hair on her arms and the back of her neck. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her intellect told her there was no way to outrun him. Like Roric, this man was a predator. It was in his blood.

She licked her dry lips and tried to think. “What exactly did you expect?” She tried to inch toward the door, but he casually moved to block her.

He shrugged and the muscles in his arms rippled. “Some insipid creature like the one who freed me.”

Aimee frowned. “Shouldn’t you be grateful to her? After all, she could have left you there.”

He gave a low laugh, as if amused by her naïveté. She could see it in his eyes. “She had no choice, just as I had none. I wanted to survive. There was no way I was going to end up locked away for another five thousand years or more.”

Where the heck was Roric? He needed to be hearing this. He’d never believe her if she told him one of his fellow warriors had gone over to the dark side, but that was exactly what had happened. “You took Hades’ offer.” It wasn’t a question. She could see the truth in his eyes.

“I got smart.” He cocked his head to one side, watching her intently. “I got tired of being on the losing side.” For such a large man, he made no sound as he took another step toward her. “I like winning.”

“I see.” She didn’t really, but she wasn’t sure how to respond. “It was easier to turn traitor than to do what was right.”

Anger burned in his dark eyes. “It’s so easy for you to sit in judgment,” he snapped. “You, who have never been tested. I gave my life, thousands upon thousands of years of loyalty, and what did it get me? Cursed and forgotten.”

Aimee sidled a little more to the left. He was getting much too close for her peace of mind. Unlike Roric, who’d attracted her from the start, she felt no such pull to Mordecai. In spite of his good looks, he repulsed her on some deep level. “She didn’t forget you. The Lady used the last of her power to keep all of you out of Hell while she went there in your stead.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Not any longer.”

That didn’t sound promising. “Why doesn’t it matter?” Aimee resisted the urge to rub her hands up and down her arms. She was suddenly chilled to the bone.

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking totally relaxed. “Hades will have his way in the end. Stavros and Phoenix tried to defy him, tried to fight.” He slanted her a look from under his hooded eyes. “They both perished, as did the women who freed them.”

Aimee almost doubled over with pain. It was like being socked in the gut. She’d known her chances of coming out alive at the end of this battle were slim to none, but she realized she’d still had the tiniest sliver of hope until now. “What about the woman who freed you?” She had to know.

Mordecai smiled, and Aimee could practically feel a layer of ice encasing her even as the flames of damnation danced in his eyes. “After I fucked her, I killed her. Then I bargained with Hades for my freedom.”

It was nearly impossible to breathe in the presence of such evil. “And did Hades give you your freedom?” She couldn’t see the Lord of the Underworld giving something so precious so easily.

“With stipulations.” Mordecai walked over the bed and stared down at the rumpled sheets. Aimee could feel her cheeks heating. With the dents in each of the pillows and the sad state of the sheets, there was no mistaking what had gone on in the bed. “I lead his army and I can have whatever I want—power, money, women.”

“Everything except your honor,” she whispered. He flinched slightly as though she’d hit him, but other than that he gave no indication that what she’d said had hurt him in any way. When he turned around to face her, there was no sign of vulnerability, no weakness she could discern.

“I find I’m not all that concerned about my honor these days.”

She didn’t believe him. There was something about him, a sadness that seemed to surround him. It made her think he regretted his choice. But maybe her imagination was running away with her, and she was seeing what she wanted to see.

Going on the offensive, she took a step toward him. After all, if he was going to hurt her, he’d had ample opportunity to do so. “What do you want?”

His cocky attitude was back in the blink of an eye, making her doubt she’d ever seen even the slightest amount of sorrow or regret. “The question is what do you want?”

He stalked toward her, circling her slowly. She felt the brush of his fingers on her spine, the puff of his breath against her ear as he spoke. “What does Aimee Horner want most in the world?”

“Nothing,” she whispered.

He came to a halt in front of her. Grasping her chin between his thumb and index finger, he raised it until their gazes met. “Liar.” His voice was soft and low, a lover’s caress. He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “We all want something. What would you do if I could give you back your parents? If I could turn back time to that awful day and have the drunk driver miss your family’s car? What would you do? What would you give?”

Hope leapt in Aimee’s breast. Her thundering heart threatened to burst free from her chest. Could he truly do that? “How?”

“All you have to do is betray Roric. And what does he really matter to you?” Mordecai smiled knowingly as he glanced toward the bed. “He might have heated the sheets with you, but believe me, he’d sacrifice your life in a second if he thought it would free the rest of those losers on the carousel or the precious Lady he’s so fond of.”

“I know.” It hurt to say it aloud, but Roric had never lied to her. His mission was what mattered to him, his honor. She respected him for that.

“And it’s not really betrayal,” he continued. “It’s more saving yourself and your parents. You have the power to do what’s right for your family. Will you throw it all away on an immortal warrior who cares nothing for you?”

Aimee thought about how gentle Roric was with her when they made love. His strength was enormous, yet he’d never hurt her, always tempering it so she got the most pleasure possible. She thought about his struggle to stay detached from her, the way he talked about the goddess he’d faithfully served since the dawn of time, how he worried about his friends and fellow warriors. Roric was a man to respect, and his mission was a just one.

As quick as hope had bloomed, it withered and died. She had to remember who she was dealing with. She was no dummy. She’d read her share of horror novels and comics, and the devil always got his due.

Slowly, she nodded, knowing she was signing her own death warrant and putting an end to all her hopes and dreams. She knew her parents would want her to do the right thing. They’d raised her to know right from wrong, and there was no doubt in her mind that what he was offering was wrong.

Mordecai pursed his lips and nodded. He thought he had her. She wanted to slap the smug look from his handsome face.

“And then what?” she added softly. “They’ll die in a horrific fire a few months later. Or perhaps they’ll both be drowned or shot or die of disease. If you change one event you alter a thousand more. It’s like a ripple in a pond, never-ending. How many other lives will change? How many other people will die if I take your offer?”

“What do you care?” She could sense his growing impatience. “You’ll have what you want?”

“How many?” She’d been watching him closely and had seen the slightest flinch. It wasn’t really a flinch, more of a muscle twitch just beneath his left eye, but she knew she’d hit the nail on the head with her assumptions.

He leaned so close their noses were almost touching. “The drunk driver who hit your parents’ car would hit a school bus filled with children instead.” He straightened. “As to how many would die…” His shoulders moved up and down as he shrugged again. “Who knows?”

Aimee swallowed back the lump in her throat as she thought about all those children losing their lives before they’d really had a chance to live. “That’s pure evil.”

Mordecai shook his head. “That’s choice. Think of it as collateral damage.”

“Is that what your friends are to you? Collateral damage?”

His face turned to stone. “If you don’t want your parents back, how about fame and fortune instead? You could become one of the biggest names in the art world.”

Aimee shook her head. Reaching out, she laid her hand gently on his arm. The muscles beneath her palm quivered. “Give it up. There is nothing you can offer me that will make me betray Roric. I don’t want to be famous. I don’t want money. What good are they when I don’t expect to live to see tomorrow?”

Something that might have been respect reflected in his eyes for a brief second, but was quickly replaced by scorn. He stepped back and her hand fell back to her side. “You’d give your life for his?”

“For hope,” she corrected. “And it’s mine to give.”

He snorted. “It won’t be yours for much longer. Soon it will belong to Hades.”

“Perhaps,” she acknowledged.

“Tell Roric I said hello. And tell him that this was the last offer. If neither of you will budge, the gloves are off. You’ll soon see how little he values you when he tosses you to the hounds of Hell to save himself.”

“Perhaps,” she echoed.

Mordecai grabbed her shoulders and yanked her toward him. Before she could react, his mouth covered hers. Time stopped as he plunged his tongue into her mouth in an erotic caress that sent an icy shiver down her spine and left her cold. He banded his arms around her, fisting his hand in her hair and tilting her head to one side to deepen the kiss.

Aimee brought her hands up to his chest and shoved with all her might. It was like pushing against the side of a mountain. Like Roric, there was no give in him. Switching tactics, she brought her knee up hard and fast. Mordecai broke the kiss and managed to jump back at the last second.

He laughed. “Spunky. I like that.” He licked his lips and laughed again when she swiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “I’m going to ask Hades to give you to me. You’ll be my personal slave for all eternity.”

“Get out,” she commanded. “This is my home and you aren’t welcome here.”

As it had in the living room, a dark circle seemed to appear out of nowhere, sucking all the light from the room. Mordecai stepped through the portal, raising his hand in farewell. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” he promised. “Dream of me.” He blew her a kiss as the circle closed in on itself and disappeared.

“What the hell is going on?”

Aimee whirled around. Roric filled the doorway. He looked sexy and fierce, his unusual hair falling free around his shoulders. From what she’d seen so far these ancient warriors all looked damn good. She saw the two gleaming swords clasped tight in his hands and her heart skipped a beat. He’d come ready to defend her.

She tried to smile, but it felt like more of a grimace. Roric stepped to her side and the swords disappeared in a flash. What was most shocking to her was that she wasn’t surprised at all by their vanishing act. She’d already seen him do it once, and after everything she’d seen in the past twelve hours, a disappearing sword or two seemed almost tame.

“Aimee?” He strode forward, stopped in front of her and cupped her face with his hands. The action was reminiscent of how Mordecai had held her, except his grip had been impersonal and had left her feeling cold. Roric’s touch was warm and heated her insides.

“I’m fine.” She stepped away from him when all she wanted to do was fling herself into his strong arms and have him hold her. Time had run out. She had to be brave and smart. And that meant no more touching. They ended up having sex whenever they touched. As wonderful as it was, it had to stop. Neither of them could afford the distractions.

“Don’t lie to me.” His brows narrowed over his eyes and he pursed his lips. “I saw the circle closing. I can smell the brimstone.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Did you see who was in it?” Maybe he’d seen Mordecai. If he had, he’d be more likely to believe her.

He frowned and shook his head.

There went that hope. Bracing herself for the battle to come, she took a deep breath. “I had a visitor.”

Roric tried to ignore the clenching in his gut, but it was no use. Hades had sent one of his minions to tempt Aimee, possibly even to hurt her. Frustration filled him. He should have been here instead of waiting for her downstairs. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened to her. There was no point. It would only lead to doubts and that would simply weaken him.

From now on, he wouldn’t be able to let her out of his sight. Not until this was over once and for all. He was responsible for her safety. The weight of his responsibilities threatened to break him. How could he save Aimee and himself, free his fellow warriors and rescue his goddess? It was an impossible task.

He straightened his shoulders and strengthened his resolve. Nothing was impossible. He would not fail. Could not fail. There was too much depending on him.

Roric felt the slight trembling of her body and slid his hands over her shoulders and upper arms, offering silent comfort. She resisted when he pulled her closer, but he ignored her struggles, wanting no physical space between them.

He knew it would be better if they maintained some sort of distance between them. Still he couldn’t deny the twinge of regret that welled up inside him at the thought. He wanted to feel her soft hair against his chin, smell her sweet skin. He gave himself an inward shake. The time for pleasure was over. The time had come to fight.

The woman quivering in his arms was a reminder of his mission. Still, he didn’t like the idea that she’d been dragged into this war between the gods. It was fine for him to face demons from Hell. It was what he’d been created to do, what he’d been doing since the dawn of time. But Aimee…he wished things could be different, that he could walk away from her and know she’d be okay. But wishing for something didn’t change what was. He’d had thousands of years to come to grips with that notion.

“It’s all right,” he soothed as he stroked his hands up and down her back and arms. “You’re okay.” She was fine for now, but he was under no illusions that state would last much longer. Things were about to get tougher and much more frightening. Hades had been merely toying with them so far.

Aimee sighed and stepped away, wrapping her arms around herself. His arms felt bereft without her. Yet he let her go, not reaching for her as he longed to do.

“As I was finishing getting dressed after getting cleaned up, a man appeared out of nowhere.” She pointed to a spot just inside the door before tucking her hand away once again.

“A demon?” Roric strode to the area, hands stretched out, trying to feel the residual energy. Splaying his fingers wide, he ran his hands up and down the space in front of the wall. Nothing. He frowned and did it again. There should be some taint of evil there, but if it was there, it was masked. He couldn’t find it.

“No.”

He whirled back around. Aimee had moved to the end of the bed and was staring down at the sheets. “Who then?”

She shook her head, not answering. As he watched, she started to sit on the mattress, changed her mind and went to the window instead, staring out into the sunlight. “It looks like a beautiful day. I’d like to go out and feel the sunshine against my face.”

Roric was worried now. Had this creature done something to her? Something he couldn’t see? Not all injuries were physical. In some ways, physical injuries were easier to deal with than those of a mental or emotional nature. Crossing the space between them, he clasped her shoulders gently and turned her to face him. “I’ll take you outside,” he promised. He kept his tone low and unthreatening.

She patted his hand where it rested on her right shoulder. “I’m okay.” At his skeptical look, she shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “It’s just that you’re not going to believe what I have to tell you.”

“I will,” he promised. And he realized that he meant it. He trusted Aimee. The only others he’d trusted on such a gut level were the Lady herself and his fellow warriors—Marko, Arand, Leander, Phoenix, Mordecai and Stavros. “Tell me.”

She glanced out the window. A sense of sadness surrounded her. Roric wanted to make it disappear but knew that was impossible. Her life path was irrevocably tied to his now. There was no going back. Not for either of them.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be able to change the past?” There was a note of wistfulness in her voice that touched a part of him he’d thought frozen by anger and time.

Hardening himself, he ignored the ache in his heart. As a result, his answer was brusque, almost cold. “No. There is no going back, only going forward.”

Turning away, she rested her forehead against the pane of glass and peered out the window. Roric looked over the top of her head, seeing what she was seeing. The mountains stood in the distance—majestic, unyielding, eternal. Below them was a sea of color. Autumn had spread its cloak over the land, coating it in brilliant yellows, reds and oranges mixed with the browns and greens of the forest. Even for an eternal warrior who’d lived for longer than mankind, it was awe-inspiring.

“I know you can’t go back.” She raised her hand and laid it flat against the pane of glass. “But do you ever think about it. About what if?”

He had no idea what point she was trying to make. He was a warrior. He dealt with what was, not what might be. “No. There is no point. It clouds the issue and makes you weak.”

Aimee sighed and her breath fogged slightly against the glass. “It makes you human.” She clenched her fingers into a fist. “I grew up playing in these mountains. My daddy would always be working out around the yard, chopping wood or fixing something in his shed. Momma would be in the kitchen cooking supper or baking a pie. I miss them.”

The pain in her voice nearly brought Roric to his knees. He could feel her sadness like a living, breathing entity. The connection he shared with Aimee was unlike anything he’d experienced in his long life. Not even with the Lady did he feel such a bond.

That thought brought him up short. That was blasphemy. He could not allow himself to be swayed from his duty.

“He offered to go back in time and stop the accident from happening.” She gazed out over the land. “All I had to do to make it happen was to betray you.”

Roric stiffened. This wasn’t good. The devil’s minions were tempting Aimee with what she most wanted. He was nothing to her. Just a man, an immortal being who’d turned her life upside down. “What did you tell him?”

She laughed, but it was a sad sound. Turning, she stared up at him, her green eyes dark with pain. “What do you think I said?” she countered.

He wanted to say with conviction that she’d declined, but he couldn’t be certain. Maybe she was telling him this to throw him off, only to betray him when the time was right. Roric decided he would be honest with her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand, stopping him.

“No, don’t tell me. I can see the answer in your eyes. You expect me to betray you.”

He frowned. “I do trust you.” Deep in his gut he did. “But that doesn’t mean that the devil can’t tempt you. Stronger people than yourself have succumbed to the lure of false promises.”

A tinge of red flowed up her cheeks, driving away the paleness from her skin. Roric knew it was due to anger, but it was very similar to the flush her face took on during sex. His body responded immediately, muscles tightening, cock growing and thickening.

“Thank you very much,” she replied tartly. She shoved by him and strode toward the door. “I said no, if you’re interested,” she tossed over her shoulder as she left the room.

Roric followed her as she hurried down the stairs. Ignoring the scorched and blackened living area, she entered the kitchen and went straight to the back door. She flung it open and stepped out onto the covered back deck that ran the width of the house.

Aimee walked to the corner and leaned against a thick post. “Of course, I could be lying to you.” Her words were faint, but he heard them all the same.

He might be a fool, but he couldn’t leave things like this between them. The sun was bright, but the air was crisp. “You should have on a sweater or a coat,” he muttered.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You think I’m going to betray you to Hades himself, but you’re worried I’m not wearing a coat?”

Put like that, it did sound silly. Still, Roric didn’t back down. “I don’t want you getting ill.”

“Certainly not. I might not be as useful to you if that happened.”

“Stop it.” He grabbed her upper arms and yanked her to him. Not giving her a chance to refuse him, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with all the pent-up frustration, anger and lust that coursed through his veins. He wanted her to respond to him, needed her to respond. He had to feel the pulse of her passion mixing with his.

Even though he’d just had her, he wanted her again. He plundered her mouth, using his tongue to taste every inch of the warm cavern. She tasted like mint and that vile coffee she loved so well. He softened the caress when her lips softened beneath his and her tongue stroked over his.

Shuddering, he ended the passionate kiss. The passion between them was real, not manufactured by a curse or spell or magic of any sort. Yet it was a powerful magic in and of itself.

Aimee’s lips were wet and plump, and her eyes had taken on a dazed look. Satisfaction filled him. This was truth. This wasn’t a lie, no matter what else might happen.

The sensual glow faded slowly from her face, and Aimee swore under her breath. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed. Roric simply locked his hands behind her back, keeping her exactly where he wanted her—close to him.

His entire body was vibrating, his penis erect, straining to be released. Roric had no plans to give in to the sexual demands of his body, but they made him feel alive. And that was a sensation to savor.

Aimee huffed and pushed again, but he didn’t relent. She glared at him. “What is it about you guys that makes you think you can take what you want?”

Everything inside Roric turned to ice. “What did the demon do to you?”

Her gaze narrowed. “I already told you, he wasn’t a demon. But he grabbed me and kissed me, like you just did.”

Jealousy snaked through Roric, a hot whip that flayed his skin from the inside out. Every muscle in his body coiled for action. He’d kill the other creature, even if he had to follow it to the depths of Hell. The creature had dared to touch his woman.

Roric knew his thoughts were totally irrational, but he didn’t care. There was no fighting the primal urges flowing through him. He could feel the tiger pacing within the confines of his mind, roaring with anger, drowning out all rational thought. The only thing that was certain was that whoever had touched Aimee had to die.

“Hey, are you okay?” Aimee had her hands pressed against his cheeks. He could see the concern in her eyes.

A low growl escaped from his throat. “Who is he? Did he give you a name?

She nodded and slowly lowered her hands back down by her sides. Her expression went blank. “He did.”

“Who?” His voice was little more than a guttural snarl. He’d run out of patience.

She swallowed hard but met his gaze unflinchingly. “He told me his name was Mordecai.”