by Renee Field
Mustering her courage she snapped back “Fine. I’ll leave. I’m going to go out get a coffee and come back. I expect you to be gone when I come back. Capice?” she said with more flare than she felt.
She didn’t wait for his reply. Instead, she grabbed the spare change in the change tray and her keys and sauntered out of her apartment. Closing the door behind her she took a deep breath. Already she was feeling better.
This feels good, she told herself, marching down the stairs like she didn’t have a care in the world.
When I get back he’ll be gone. I’ll get the book and get some real work done. Then I’m going to make Melissa and Sarah wish they had never played this practical joke on me.
When her feet hit the second floor landing, pain sliced through her body. White heat radiated instantly all over her, from her toes to the ends of her long hair. She couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t think straight as her body, writhing in pain, collapsed onto the landing. She felt as if she was being burned alive. She wanted to scream but couldn’t. It felt as if someone was squeezing her lungs, making breathing impossible.
Her last conscious thought before another painful spasm racked her was that death would be better than what she was going through.
Chapter Four
Darius knew she was in pain, but still he lounged against the kitchen counter, counting the seconds. A second spasm of pain caused the hairs on his body to stand on end. He could feel his breathing becoming labored, but still he waited. This was a lesson he only wanted her to experience once. A lesson learned once the hard way, he mused, was better than having her pretend he didn’t exist.
The idea she thought he was a genie was laughable. A tink. He wished he could share that thought with Seth. His telepathic ability to speak with his twin was on the fritz. At least that’s what he hoped it was. The gash on his stomach started to bleed again, and he shook his head, realizing he had forgotten to find a needle and thread. Taking a deep breath he calmly walked out of the kitchen, out the door and down the steps. She had made it to the second landing. Crumpled in a heap, a painful spasm took hold of her body.
Cursing silently for waiting so long, he scooped up her limp body into his arms. Her lips were blue from the lack of oxygen. Without hesitating, he kissed her. Luckily in human form he didn’t have to worry about giving her the kiss of life, which would tie her to him for eternity.
With his healing powers able to work on her, he willed his energy, his essence into her as it healed her body. Deepening the kiss, he felt the exact moment when she took a breath. His breath. He felt her arms snake around his head. He felt her mouth open wider, bolder, as she yearned for a second breath, but he didn’t want to break contact with her. The beast within him wanted her to breathe him...to scent him...to be his. Finally breaking contact, he released her lips, and silently roared, as he bounded back up the stairs and into her apartment.
Like he owned the place, he marched into her bedroom and gently placed her down on her bed. Still cradled in his arms he leaned his body over hers. This time when he kissed her he did it the Titan way. With eyes wide open, he watched as pleasure surpassed pain. Her face flushed with desire.
Plunging his tongue over and over into her mouth, he devoured her. She answered his thrust with her own, arousing him further. Her arms clasped his head, caused his breathing to quicken and his blood to boil. Savagely, he pushed her back onto the bed. He cupped her breasts boldly, then used his hands to push her shirt up. And still he kissed her, not wanting to break the feel of her lush lips that molded to his perfectly.
Her fingers snaked through his hair, and he growled deep in his throat. Reality would come back to him in a second, he thought, as he finally broke contact with her lips. Undoing her bra, he pushed aside the flimsy material and wetted his lips in anticipation of devouring the peaked dark rose buds that were tight with pulsing desire. It was then he realized her hands had stilled and her eyes were wide open. She stared up at him with innocence and wonder.
And he hated her. Hated her for having this power over him. Hated her for not being able to accommodate his Titan nature. And more than anything, he hated himself for taking advantage of her, again.
Growling he moved off her. Backed away from her lush body and forced his breathing to normal. “Like I said we are bound together. I hope you have learned your lesson.” He marched out of the bedroom, barely controlling his passion.
Kassandra felt lightheaded. What the hell happened? The rational part of her brain told her this couldn’t be happening to her, while the irrational part said it not only could, it was.
But how? How on earth could she be bound to him? To that Greek warrior out there, who was prowling like an angry beast around her living room? One minute she’d been confident that once she got her coffee and waited a bit that he’d be gone and then, whammo! Pain like she had never experienced before had consumed her. Then a feeling of bliss had settled over her body as a warm, tingly feeling made its way from her toes to her head.
That was when she’d realized she was kissing him. Madly kissing him. Kissing him like her life deepened on it. And maybe it had. Because kissing him made her feel better. Much better. But the feel of his hands on her breasts had awakened something else within her. She wanted him. Wanted every inch of him. She had looked up at him and wondered at this strange, unfamiliar feeling crashing like waves in the pit of her stomach. Gone was the passionate lover and in its place was a stranger whose eyes were like nothing she had ever seen before. Something feral, wild and untamed loomed deep within him. And she wanted it. Wanted him. A man she didn’t know. A man, she knew to the bone, was going to ruin her life.
Now, more than anything she should run far away from him. The shocking reality was she couldn’t. Somehow she knew he was telling the truth about their being bound together by the book. But why? Why would she be bound to him? And who exactly was he? Because he sure as hell wasn’t normal. Normal men didn’t pop naked out of a book. Normal men didn’t ooze sex like he did. And normal men didn’t make her feel like this. Wanton and wild. She wet her lips with her tongue and took a steadying breath. Vaguely she recalled thinking last night that she wanted prince charming to come and rescue her from her boring life.
Darius my prince charming. What a sick joke.
Angry at herself for getting into this weird situation, she pushed down her shirt and marched into the living room. She could have sworn he had been talking to someone, but no one else was there.
“Okay, mister. For now I’ll play your game. We’re bound by the book, somehow. So how do we get unbound?” She walked past him so she could plop herself down in her blush-red lounge chair. Only then did she realize what he was doing. Stitching the gash on his stomach together with a long piece of thread and her one and only needle. To be precise, her red thread. Red because it matched her long, slinky chiffon dress. She took a step backward, feeling queasy. “What are you doing? Okay, I know what you’re doing, but I really think you’d be better off getting that done at a hospital.”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he looked at her, and it was only then she realized sweat was breaking out on his brow. The guy was in pain. And who wouldn’t be? Before she could stop herself, she said, “Here, let me help you.”
She took the needle with the attached red thread from his hand, half expecting him to say no. Gritting her teeth, Kassandra stitched away like she had done it a thousand times. “There,” she said at last, wiping the sweat from her own forehead. “All done.”
He just stared at her. Hard. An intense stare that rocked her to her knees.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “Pack your things. We’re going somewhere.”
Kassandra knew an order when she heard it. Living with a military father did that to you. Fighting the urge to laugh in his face, she smartly asked. “Where?”
Instead of answering her, he walked back into her bedroom and started to throw things out of her drawers and stuff them into her knapsack. The nerve of t
he man!
“Ready?” he asked, an eyebrow raised like he was just wishing for an argument.
Fighting the urge to grab the knapsack and throw absolutely everything out of it, she stood and answered, “Sure, whatever. Just how do you propose we get to wherever we’re going?”
With her knapsack still in his clutches, her hands were itchy. Itchy to touch him. Stilling the thought, she headed to the door and grabbed her apartment keys and wallet. No way was she going to follow him. That would be too much for her. Marching down the steps without incident, she opened the front door of the apartment building and breathed in the salty smell of the Atlantic Ocean. Instantly, she felt better.
She felt him still beside her, as if he too was breathing in the fresh smell of the sea.
“Get in,” he ordered.
So much for its calming effects. “Get in what?”
He moved toward a black sleek looking Ferrari.
“That’s yours?” she said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
It was then that she heard the honks. Every car that drove past them honked its horn. Darius simply looked annoyed. Didn’t the guy know what he was wearing? Or how he looked?
Ignoring the honking cars, he grinned like a Cheshire cat. On second thought, more like a lion. “For now, this is my car. Now get in.”
He spoke roughly, but he held the door open for her in a very courtly, old-fashioned gesture that caused her stomach to do flip-flops and her heart to race. How polished he looked, even wearing faded blue jeans, a pink t-shirt and barefoot. It just went to show how damn good looking he was.
This isn’t good. Don’t get all goggle eyed at him, Kassandra told herself as she slid her body into the warm black leather seat. Once you sort out how to get unbound from him and the book, your life will go back to normal. Wait a minute. The book! Where the hell was the book?
“Looking for something?” he asked casually.
“The book.”
“Don’t you worry about that. It’s here. In the back,” he said, putting the car into gear. With a quick movement of his wrist they were moving. No racing. Winding their way through the small city streets. Heading east. She held on for dear life.
Darius used the silence to think and plan. Again he’d had to rely on Rylan’s skills to acquire what he needed, and that bothered him more than he cared to think about. The kid was the reason he was in this mess to begin with.
Mentally, he said a silent thanks to the Gods that the kid had taken to heart what he had said about cars. He’d held his breath as he made his way down the stairs, hoping against hope that Rylan had done what he’d asked. Seeing the black, sleek Ferrari made him feel better.
He turned to glance at Kassandra. When he thought about it, she was handling things pretty well, considering how weird it all was. It had to be the strangest day he’d ever encountered in his entire existence, and that had spanned two-hundred-and thirty human years.
Stealing another glance at her, he couldn’t help but notice how her long chestnut hair spilled gracefully down her back. Every once in a while she’d flick at her bangs to keep the curls away from her face.
And those eyes of hers. Chocolate brown. Chocolate and thongs had to be his two favorite human inventions. In fact, he thought they’d be best served together. That idea immediately made him hard. Everything about her made him ache with want, and that unnerved him.
He had been amazed and actually tongue-tied when she’d taken the needle and thread out of his hand and set about stitching him up. No one had ever done that before. Then again, he’d never had the need of stitching before. The fact that she had undertaken the task without asking a ton of questions—like why he didn’t want to go to a hospital—gave him pause. She gone pretty pale, but she hadn’t fainted at the sight of blood. Hadn’t said she was squeamish at all. She had nerve. Gusty nerve, which he liked.
And that wasn’t good. He didn’t want to like her. He wanted to get rid of her. Maybe once he reached his house he’d be able to work out a sensible plan. For now, he was going on instinct. And his instinct said to go home, slip into the sea and rapture. Hoping against hope that rapturing was possible, he slammed the gear shift into fifth speed.
Her graceful fingers turned on the radio. Good, anything to break the silence. She fiddled with the knob until she came to a singer who was singing something about a white flag going down on a ship. Her voice caused the hairs on his arm to stand on end.
“Is this okay?” she asked.
He gave her a silent nod.
“Good to know you like Dido, too.”
“What?”
“Dido, the name of the singer.”
Go figure. Of course he liked Dido. Who the hell could resist the charms of the fresh water Siren? She was a legend in her own right. He vaguely heard Kassandra talking about her, how she was from Britain, played the recorder when she was younger and on and on and on it went.
Part of him wanted to laugh. Dido playing the recorder. That he’d like to see. The last time he’d seen the perky fresh water Siren, she’d been moping around the Isle channels bemoaning her fate at never finding her Sokhan, her true love.
She had sung for him then because it had been his awakening year, his two hundredth birthday as he recalled, and he’d been away from his people, his mardom. She’d taken pity on him and had sung a stupid human birthday song to him that she had overheard. Her voice had been amazing, and he had told her that. Come to think of it, hadn’t he told her to stop moping around, that her voice was a gift to the world? She wouldn’t have, he thought, not liking the idea that she might have given up her nature to take human form.
“So, are you going to tell me where we are going?” Kassandra asked, flicking the radio knob to the left.
“My house,” he said, turning to give her a genuine smile.
An hour later they snaked their way onto a clam-shelled road. He saw the man standing about two miles ahead of them long before Kassandra did. He immediately recognized the towering hulk, even in human form, and a smile lit up his face. Ajoran. My cousin. A link to the sea. Finally! His cousin still had his back to him when he pulled up behind him.
“Who’s that?” asked Kassandra.
“Stay here,” he said, parking the car and jumping out before Kassandra could ask more questions. He was eager to catch up on any news of his mardom.
“Not another step, Darius.” The deep, shallow voice of Ajoran caused him to stop in mid-stride.
“What?” he asked, attempting to move forward, anxious to greet his cousin. “Using your powers again, Ajoran, even in human form...naughty,” he said, wishing he could pull free.
Darius watched as his fun loving cousin turned towards him slowly. His eyes missed nothing. For instance, he noted the way that Ajoran shuffled back a step, almost like he was willing himself to stay and not run. And when his cousin fully faced him, Darius felt the anger rising in him. He didn’t miss the audible gasp of fright that came from Kassandra in the car. Worse, he knew Ajoran heard it.
“What by Hades happened to you?” He attempted to move forward. But that was like trying to move a concrete wall with your pinky toe. He realized his young cousin had come into his full powers as a Titan warrior.
He noted that half of Ajoran’s face was swollen, and that green ooze seeped from his right eye. The sight was truly grotesque. Worse yet was his body. Darius sensed by that one shuffle that his cousin’s body was quite literally falling apart. He could also sense the amount of pain Ajoran was bearing with typical Titan dignity. Clad in faded blue jeans, Ajoran wore no shirt. Darius knew the jeans were out of respect for the female that his cousin must have sensed as they moved onto his property.
“Nice of you to return.”
The sarcasm cut deep into him. Something was up. This wasn’t like his playful cousin at all. Even after the many battles they had waged together, Ajoran had always been the one to laugh at his scars.
“What happened to you?” Darius asked, wanting more th
an anything to lend his healing powers to his cousin to take away his pain.
“What happened to you? How could you leave us?” replied Ajoran.
Darius watched as a hacking cough tore through his cousin forcing him to spit out a gob of green mucous.
“I didn’t leave on purpose,” he said as gently as he could. “It’s a complicated story. Let’s just say I was imprisoned for a while. So, what’s happened to you?”
Darius barely heard Ajoran’s whispered answer, “It’s the plague.”
The perplexed look on Darius’ face said it all. “The plague?” Again, he tried to move forward. “Oh for the love of Pasithea, let me go. Now!”
In their undersea kingdom Ajoran had always followed the lines of respect that were Darius’ by right and birth. The fact that Ajoran was a Titan whose father had been named a traitor during the battle with Zeus and banished to Hades’ domain caused many in the undersea kingdom to view Ajoran as a second-class citizen. That had never set well with Darius.
Then Darius’ eyesight cleared enough for him to catch the tattoo on his cousin’s chest. The blue-green octopus-shaped tattoo indicated what he had already surmised—that Ajoran had finally reached his master warrior level.
When Darius and Seth had discovered the young Titan’s natural ability with the Triton they both had set about to teach him how to tap into his warrior skills. The fact that now he had reached the master level made him an equal in Darius’ eyes.
Darius felt the barrier holding him back dissipate and he inched forward.
“Please, Darius, you mustn’t come any closer. We’re not sure how it’s spreading, but being in human form seems to slow it down.
