Ares

by Heaton, Felicity

  A grunt left him and then the daemon was gone.

  He pivoted on his heel, crossed his arms in front of his face and blocked the daemon’s attack.

  The blast of air sent him skidding backwards but he maintained his footing and was ready the moment he stopped. He launched forwards and swung with his right fist. The daemon dipped to one side but didn’t manage to evade the blow. Ares caught him hard on the right shoulder and the man shrieked, leaped away and clutched it.

  He smelled blood.

  Grinned.

  Megan had shot the daemon and the wound hadn’t fully healed yet. A weakness, and one that Ares was all too happy to exploit.

  A quick sweep of his surroundings placed Megan away from the fight, hiding in the shadow of a parked black sedan. He focused on the daemon, dodging the bursts of fire and air the man threw at him, luring him further away from her so she would be safe and he could fight unhindered.

  It was strange fighting the daemon when he was using his own damned power. It served to increase his anger and the darkness surging through him now, flowing in his blood, demanding violence and death. He would kill this bastard and then take Megan home.

  His home.

  Where she would be safe.

  Where she belonged.

  He focused his attacks on the daemon’s shoulder, the darker part of him grinning each time he managed to land a blow, eliciting another grunt or shriek from the daemon. The daemon fought hard, managing to deal blows of his own, but Ares didn’t feel them. The darkness raging out of control within him took care of that, numbing his pain and driving him to keep fighting until he had the death and bloodshed he craved.

  The daemon blasted him backwards with another shot of air and Ares slammed into the side of a silver car. He growled at the man and pushed off, intending to launch himself at the bastard and take him down.

  The daemon disappeared.

  Ares stepped straight to Megan, appearing right in front of her, black ribbons of smoke swirling around his limbs.

  The man appeared just a few feet in front of him, his features twisted into a dark scowl, a faint glow around the edges of his irises.

  He looked as though he was going to attack and then paused and slowly turned his head towards his right. East. The sky was lightening and it wouldn’t be long before the sun breached the horizon. Ares looked there, along the street that ran for miles, and then back at the daemon.

  He was gone.

  A growl curled from his lips.

  He wanted to find whoever the daemon had stolen the power to teleport from and kick their arse.

  He turned to Megan and crouched before her. She looked up at him, her tear-streaked cheeks pale and eyes enormous. Her right hand covered her chest, dark with blood that almost matched the colour of her jumper.

  He reined in his temper, fighting for control against the darkness, and managed to get it down from a raging boil to a simmer in his blood, and carefully slipped his fingers around her wrist and eased her hand away from her chest, trying to prepare himself for the worst at the same time. He parted the cut in her jumper.

  Relief bloomed inside him, stripping the last of his strength away.

  The thin line across her chest was shallow, barely a scratch.

  She had caught the blade before the daemon could deal any real damage.

  The thought of it piercing her tore at his restraint and he had to force himself to remain with her rather than pursue the daemon. The bastard could be anywhere by now and he had more important things to do than go on a wild goose chase to hunt him down.

  He settled his hands on her shoulders and hoped she didn’t notice how much he was trembling.

  “You okay?” he whispered in a voice tight with his swirling emotions and she stared up into his eyes, her brown ones softening with the relief that beat in his blood.

  “I was so scared.” She launched into his arms, almost knocking him over, and he wrapped his around her.

  He closed his eyes, tightened his hold on her and savoured the feel of her in his arms, back where she belonged, where he needed her most.

  “I’m here now. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you, Megan.” He pressed a light kiss to the top of her head and breathed her in.

  Her delicate feminine scent roused his need to protect her and almost had him surrendering to another wave of darkness as it surged through him.

  Not this time.

  He was right where he needed to be, where she needed him to be, and that was all that mattered. When she was safe again, tucked away in his apartment and protected, he would call his brothers and tell them what he had learned, and he would go out and hunt the bastard who had hurt her.

  “What were you doing out so late?” He stroked her hair, running his fingers through the silken dark threads, and kept breathing her in, using the feel of her in his arms and the scent of her to calm his blacker urges.

  She sniffed and turned her head, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Her tears soaked into his black shirt.

  “I remembered the man had worn something on his hand and that he had touched you with that hand when he had taken your power. I was coming to tell you about it and then the daemon was right in front of me.”

  Ares growled and she tensed. He smoothed her hair, wanting to soothe her, silently apologising for his outburst, and thanking her at the same time. She had remembered something about the daemon and had wanted to tell him.

  She wanted him to get his power back.

  He sighed and held her closer.

  She wanted to help him and tonight had proven it and made him see that he had been wrong.

  She didn’t want him to choose between his power and her.

  “I never should have let you leave me.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips across her forehead.

  She drew back and scowled at him. “You were the one who left me... and you were never coming back. Why did you come back?”

  He dropped his gaze to his knees. “I needed to see you again.”

  She huffed. “I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

  He lifted his eyes to meet hers. They burned with anger but pain edged them too, and tears lined her dark lashes. He raised his hand and gently cupped her cheek, sweeping his thumb over it to erase her tears.

  He had hurt her. He knew that. He hadn’t meant to but he hadn’t realised that by protecting himself and stopping himself from getting hurt, he would end up hurting her this deeply.

  “I’m sorry,” he husked, holding her gaze, and let the barriers around his heart fall, wanting her to see that he was telling her the truth now, and that being apart from her had hurt him too. “I couldn’t live without you.”

  “So you came back,” she whispered and smiled into his eyes, hers warming with affection. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you and what we shared... this feels right to me, Ares... we feel right... but we’re so different. You’re a god and I’m human. You’re right and you don’t have to apologise.”

  The smile that had been working its way onto his lips faltered and then died. He frowned at her, not quite following her around that last bend.

  “What do you mean, I’m right?” He snaked his arm around her waist.

  If she was about to tell him that she was leaving him, then he was damn well going to make it clear that he wouldn’t let that happen.

  “I understand what you were telling me... but I don’t care, Ares. I still think we belong together.” Her eyes searched his and he smiled to let her know that he shared her feelings as relief swept through him.

  “I was wrong.” He caught another tear with his thumb as it slipped and tumbled down her cheek. “We do belong together and, no matter what happens, we’ll find a way to make it work, because I don’t want to be apart from you again.”

  Gods, he was glad his brothers weren’t around to hear what he had just said. He sounded like a sentimental idiot, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making Megan smile, and if spouting hear
ts and flowers shit made those tears in her eyes go away, then he would recite poetry to her until the end of time.

  She didn’t stop studying him, eyes darting back and forth between his, as though she was looking for even the tiniest lie in them. “You really mean that? Or will you cast me aside the moment you have your powers back?”

  The venom behind that one stung but he deserved it.

  He sighed and stroked her cheek, hoping to soothe away the anger that had risen back into her eyes.

  “I was cruel, and way out of line, but I swear to you that I would never do that to you.” It was make or break time. He could see that as well as feel it in his gut. Right here, right now. Either he said the right words and she would stay and give him a shot at winning her, or he screwed the whole thing up and she would walk out of his life. “Listen to me, Megan, Sweetheart... I take it all back, every word. This, us, it scares the shit out of me and I let that get the better of me. I let fear make me doubt you, and I should never have done that. I just haven’t felt like this in a long... I haven’t felt like this ever.”

  “Never?”

  He shook his head. “Never. I panicked... my brothers did this whole intervention thing and I panicked.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “They did what?”

  Maybe he should have kept that part to himself. She looked as though she was going to tear them all to pieces when she next saw them, which would be soon because he had to contact them and tell them everything he had learned tonight.

  “Forget them. What they did just pissed me off and then we kissed, and it felt so damn good, and I didn’t want to let you go and it scared me. I didn’t realise you were scared too.”

  “I’ve never been so afraid, Ares,” she whispered, the hard edge to her eyes softening again.

  She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, mirroring him, and then gently ran her fingers along his jaw. He couldn’t take it. The light caress sent heat scorching through his blood and he had to fight the hunger to draw her up against him and kiss her.

  The middle of a road at dawn probably wasn’t the best place for that sort of thing.

  Especially with the grey clouds that were rolling in to ruin another day with more rain.

  “We have to go.” As much as he hated to shatter the moment, he wanted her moved as quickly as possible. The daemon wouldn’t do anything now that dawn was coming, his kind didn’t get on too well with daylight, but Ares refused to risk it. “I don’t want you here when that daemon has turned his sights on you.”

  He stood and pulled her up onto her feet. She leaned against the door of the black sedan.

  “He was never after you,” she said and shock rippled through him.

  “What?”

  “The man, he said he never wanted you. He didn’t care about you. Does that mean he wanted me all along? That night in the alley, he was there for me, wasn’t he?”

  He didn’t want to frighten her, but he couldn’t lie to her either. If the daemon was targeting her, it was better she knew so she could be prepared for anything that might happen.

  He nodded.

  She wrapped her arms around herself.

  She didn’t need to fear. He would do all in his power to keep her safe. He pulled her up against him and tucked her close to his side, his arm around her shoulders. Starting with getting her away from this street and back to his place.

  “We’re leaving,” he said and she looked up at him, her dark eyes full of a strange combination of fear, hope and affection. “We’ll grab some things for you and then we’re going back to my place.”

  He didn’t wait for her to respond. He focused and stepped with her to her apartment, landing in the middle of her cramped kitchen by the door. She leaned into him, her breathing rapid and shallow, and then eased away.

  In here, away from the smells of the street and the world, the scent of her blood was stronger.

  She removed her black coat, draping it over the armchair in her living room, and then carefully slipped out of her crimson jumper. She frowned down at the dark red line across her chest and he expected her to heal it.

  She didn’t.

  “What are you waiting for?” he said and she looked across the room at him, her eyebrows raised high and eyes round with confusion.

  “Oh, of course. I won’t be more than a minute.” She went into her bedroom and he followed her, and found her packing a black backpack.

  “That isn’t what I meant.”

  She stopped and looked at him, the confusion in her eyes increasing. “What then?”

  “Aren’t you going to heal that?” He pointed at the cut across her chest and she looked down at it again and then up into his eyes.

  “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t heal myself.” She touched the crimson line and her fingers came away smeared with red.

  He frowned. “What do you mean, you can’t heal yourself?”

  “Exactly that. I never have been able to.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why.”

  Why would the daemon want a power he couldn’t use on himself? Maybe he didn’t know that she couldn’t heal herself and therefore he wouldn’t be able to either if he took her power. Ice formed down Ares’s spine. Or maybe the daemon wasn’t working alone and intended to heal others with his power.

  “The man wanted to kill me.” She collapsed onto the end of the bed, close to him where he stood in the doorway, and stared up at him, her hands jammed between her knees.

  She looked small like that and he could see the fear rising in her eyes again, could feel it calling to him and telling him to draw her back into his arms where he knew she felt safe.

  “I would never let that happen.” He kneeled in front of her and she opened her knees. He wedged his hips between them, getting as close to her as possible, and tried not to think about the position he was in or how many years had passed since he had last been this close to a woman. He took hold of her hands and she smiled, but there was fear in it still. “We’ll clean up that cut and then get out of here, and you’ll feel better. You’ll see.”

  When he smiled, hers brightened and gained warmth, and the lingering doubt in her eyes faded. She nodded.

  “You do have medical supplies here, I presume?” He sat back on his heels and looked around at the clutter on the shelves in her living room, hoping she didn’t expect him to find them for her.

  She nodded again and stood, the action placing her hips close to his face. He groaned inside and tracked her as she crossed the small bedroom, working her way around the bed, and reached into an adjacent room. The light came on, revealing a tiny bathroom barely big enough for a toilet, basin and shower cubicle.

  He caught a flashback of their kiss in the shower back in his apartment and groaned out loud this time. He wanted to pick up where they had left off but the two of them would never fit in her shower cubicle. He doubted he would fit by himself. His shower was almost the same size as her entire bathroom.

  She disappeared into the room and then reappeared with a small box. She set it down on the bed and sat where she had been before, temptingly close to him, and opened the box.

  Ares took over. He had to do something to keep his hands occupied or he was going to end up touching her. He rifled through the collection of sticking plasters, ointments and bandages, and selected some antiseptic and cotton wool. He had watched enough TV and movies during sleepless days to know this combination was favoured by mortals. He dampened the cotton wool with the liquid and then stared at the cut across her chest.

  She tugged the low neck of her red camisole down and he swallowed. Maybe doing this for her wasn’t such a fantastic idea after all. He had a legitimate reason to touch her and everything male in him said to take it, but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to stop himself from making this about more than just tending to her wound.

  His gaze darted to hers.

  Her brown eyes were dark in the low light, her pupils dilated pools of desire that spoke to his soul. She knew where this
might lead them and she looked as though she wanted it to happen, right here and right now, regardless of the danger.

  She wanted to finish what they had started back in his shower.

  He forced himself to tend to her wound, dabbing at it with the damp cotton wool and clearing the blood off her skin. She hissed and gritted her teeth each time the antiseptic touched the cut and he mumbled an apology, even though he wasn’t hurting her on purpose.

  He glanced up into her eyes again and she smiled at him, one that hit him hard in the gut and shattered his restraint.

  He slid his free hand around the back of her head, clutched the nape of her neck, and dragged her mouth down to his, claiming it with his lips. She moaned and leaned into the kiss, slanting her head and delving her tongue into his mouth. He rolled his eyes closed and kissed her harder, tangling his tongue with hers and tasting her warmth. Her knees rubbed his hips, reminding him of where he was, and he couldn’t contain the low moan that rumbled up his throat.

  His grip on her tightened, keeping her mouth against his, and she shuffled closer, until the apex of her thighs pressed hotly against his groin.

  Too much.

  He broke away from her, breathing hard and struggling to tamp down his raging desire and get it back under control. Her chest heaved right in front of him, breasts half on display as she held her crimson top for him.

  Gods, he wanted to devour them, wanted to lower his mouth and kiss every centimetre of those lush creamy mounds.

  His gaze darted to hers and the look in her eyes dared him to do it.

  He fought his need to possess her as it rose sharply inside him, driven on by her.

  He could have lost her tonight.

  That thought pushed him to the edge, awakening a hunger to claim her body and soul and let her know that she belonged to him now. He never should have let her out of his reach. He would never make that mistake again.