The figure halted suddenly, almost as if it sensed it was being watched. Slowly, the head turned toward them, and Aimee gasped as the woman stared at them. The light picked up glints of her brown hair. Her face was gaunt, but her features were perfect in every way. Her vivid blue eyes were older than time itself.
Roric fell to one knee in front of the apparition, his eyes never leaving the woman. Aimee had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she knew who it was. His next words confirmed it. “My Lady,” he breathed.
Words drifted through her mind. Aimee wasn’t sure if the woman said them aloud or if it was all in her head.
While the demons from Hell tempt and deceive, a life must be given, a heart received. One step from the path and all will be lost. Your souls will be forfeit. That is the cost.
Aimee had no idea what the goddess meant. Was this part of the spell she’d cast on her warriors? The demons had certainly tempted both of them. Did it mean she had to die for Roric to be set free? Was she destined to lose her soul to Hades? Not exactly a pleasant thought.
“I told you Hades set her free when she told him how to break the curse.” Sandra propped an elbow on one of her hands and tapped her blood-red nails against her cheek. “Of course, he didn’t release her from Hell, just her prison cell. She’s free to go.” The demon paused, teeth flashing as she smiled. “That is, if she can find her way out.”
Aimee didn’t know much about mythology, but she did know that getting out of Hades’ realm was all but impossible without his help.
Roric bound to his feet and took a step forward. She knew he was going to go through the black hole and into Hades’ realm to save the goddess. If he did, she knew all would be lost. This was his temptation, just as she’d been tested only moments before.
Aimee jumped forward, dropped her sword to the ground and threw her arms around Roric’s waist. It didn’t even slow him down. He kept moving slowly forward, as though in a trance, all but dragging her behind him.
“Stop!” She dug her heels into the dirt floor and leaned back, desperately trying to stop him. “Roric!” She called his name, hoping for some acknowledgement. Some recognition.
Trying another tack, she grabbed his hair and yanked it hard, pulling him back with all her might. At the same time, she surged forward, getting in front of him. The black hole was swirling behind her. She could feel the tug, like a vacuum wanting to suck her in.
He put his hands on her shoulders, and she knew he meant to move her aside and keep going. Desperate to stop him, Aimee threw her arms around his neck, yanked his head down and plastered her lips against his.
Roric froze, every muscle in his body stiffened and locked into place. Aimee felt stupid hanging from his neck, but she didn’t let go. The pull of the black hole was too great. If she released him, she’d lose him. His mouth was hard and cold against hers, but she ignored that.
Tilting her head to one side, she kissed him with everything she had. She slid her tongue over his bottom lip before taking it between her teeth and biting gently. When his lips parted, she surged inward.
His fingers dug into her shoulders so hard she knew she’d have bruises, but still she held onto him. She couldn’t let him put her aside. Locking her arms tighter around his neck, she practically climbed his body, wrapping her legs around his waist. The action brought her mound into intimate contact with his pelvis. There was no mistaking the bulge in his pants. Aimee rubbed her sex against his erection as she continued to kiss him.
A low groan was pulled from deep within him. Aimee captured it in her mouth and returned it as he slid his hands from her shoulders to her butt. Roric gripped her ass cheeks in his palms, jerking her even closer.
Aimee forgot why she was kissing him in the first place. All that mattered was that he was kissing her back. As always, when they touched, the results were explosive. Aimee drank in the intoxicating scent of spice and hot male, and she broke away from their torrid kiss, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
She lapped at his skin, tasting the salt on her tongue. She wanted to eat him up. She burrowed her fingers through his amazing hair, strands of white and black sifting through her fingers.
Roric growled as he peppered her jaw and face with kisses. The heat rolling off the man was incredible. She had to get closer. Needed to feel his skin against hers.
Have to stop!
A slight movement off to the side caught her eye. Horror filled her as she watched Sandra rush toward them as if in slow motion.
“Look out!” Aimee screamed as she unlocked her legs from around Roric’s hips and shoved him to one side. She dropped to her knees and rolled. She felt the whoosh of a weapon being swung. Not looking behind her, she scrabbled on the floor to reach the sword she’d dropped earlier.
Stupid!
She was behaving just like some stupid heroine in a bad movie, more concerned about sex then about saving her skin. She hadn’t done it on purpose. Well, she had. It had been the only thing she could think of to keep Roric from crossing the threshold to Hades’ domain. But the passion that flared between them had quickly taken on a life of its own and gotten way out of hand.
Wrapping her fingers around the hilt of her sword, she surged to her feet. But both Sandra and Roric were ignoring her as they circled one another. Once again, Roric had manifested two massive blades out of thin air. But Sandra was armed as well. The demon was carefully maneuvering Roric closer and closer to the black hole.
Fury flowed through her veins. Hades would get him over her dead body. Ignoring the irony of that statement, Aimee crept forward, staying behind Sandra. It wasn’t easy trying to position herself so she didn’t get too close to the black hole herself while keeping out of sight of the demon.
A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. She blinked as the salt stung her eyes. She tightened her fingers reflexively around the hilt of her sword. She watched as Roric and Sandra thrust and parried. It was like watching a macabre ballet. Both had landed blows. Blood seeped from a deep cut on Sandra’s left arm, while a red stain spread wider on Roric’s right thigh.
The demon swung hard. Roric ducked the blow, his blade coming up in a deadly arc. Aimee didn’t hesitate. As his sword pierced Sandra’s belly, Aimee lifted her weapon, holding it securely with both hands, and swung. A great battle cry broke from her lips as the blade whistled through the air.
At the last second, Sandra swung around, her lips pulled back on a snarl. Two rows of razor-sharp teeth glistened in the dim light. She tried to shift out of the way, but it was too late. Aimee’s blade cut into the demon’s neck and didn’t stop.
The shock reverberated up Aimee’s arm, but she held on, grimly determined to see this through to the end. The blade sliced through sinew and bone, coming out on the other side. Blood sprayed everywhere, coating Aimee’s arms, splattering her face. But still she hung onto the sword.
Sandra’s eyes went blank, her red lips parting as her body crumpled and her head fell to the ground, rolling until it hit Aimee’s boots. She stepped back, staring down at the face of her former friend, a succubus. Numbness crept over her. She sensed Roric beside her but couldn’t think of anything to say to him.
“Let me have the sword, Aimee.” It was only when he spoke that she realized he was prying at her fingers. His weapons were gone, poofed back into whatever realm he drew them from. She wished she could do that.
She knew she was in shock. It was a strange feeling. Like being separate from her body somehow. Roric’s arms came around her and, for the first time, she couldn’t feel his heat. She was cold, so very cold.
This was very different from killing the demon in her yard. Sandra had been her friend for almost a year. She’d known her personally. Even though Aimee knew that none of their friendship had been real, it didn’t change the fact that she’d thought it had been.
She began to shake. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.
Forcing herself to concentrate, Aimee pried her fingers open o
ne by one until Roric was able to take the sword from her hand.
“I’m covered in blood.” She sounded bewildered, rather than matter of fact. She shook herself. Instead of clearing her head, she only succeeding in making herself dizzy. The inside of the tent seemed to swirl around her.
She blinked and realized the tent was moving. “Roric?” She hoped he knew what was happening. She had no idea.
The black hole was getting bigger with each swirl it made. Dust kicked up from the floor, and the tent walls began to flutter. Roric was staring at the hole and the Lady just beyond. She lifted her hand, and the one word she said reverberated around them.
Go!
“We have to get out of here.” Aimee tugged on his arm. In the next second, the Lady was gone and thick, inky black filled the hole.
Roric turned from the portal, grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the slit he’d cut in the canvas wall. “Hurry.”
It was getting harder to walk as the wind picked up around them. They were both bent over at the waist, arms extended, reaching for the wall. The hole was trying to suck them in.
Metal creaked and groaned. Aimee shot a glance over her shoulder and watched as the carousel began to spin, the animals a blur. It was too much like the night she’d freed Roric.
“Move.” He picked up her and practically threw her through the opening. He quickly followed, grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the woods. “Run!”
Her legs felt like jelly, but she managed to put one foot in front of the other. A whirring sound grew louder with each passing second, like a locomotive was bearing down on them. Aimee had heard that sound once before in her life, and it struck terror in her heart.
Tornado.
She tried to yell at Roric, but the wind ripped her words from her mouth, carrying them away. His arms locked around her like a vise, until it was hard for her to breath. Even with all his preternatural strength, the wind drove them both to their knees.
Roric fell to the ground and rolled them toward the trees. Not that there was much safety to be found there. His large body covered hers, protecting her from flying debris. Aimee buried her face against his hard chest and held on for dear life.
She had no idea how long the tempest raged around them. Eventually, the wind began to die down, but Roric didn’t move, sheltering her from the dust and branches and leaves that skittered by.
Finally, the wind retreated. It was only when a crow flew by, squawking with displeasure, that Roric stirred at last. He rolled to one side with Aimee still cradled in his embrace.
The devastation should have been massive. Yet no trees were uprooted. The forest still stood the same as before. The wind had only blown around what was already on the forest floor. The only thing missing was the carnival itself. The tents were gone, the rides nothing but a memory. There wasn’t even a stray piece of garbage on the ground to acknowledge the carnival had been here. Only the smell of grease and spun sugar from the concession stands lingered in the air. And within seconds, the breeze had even dispersed even that.
Aimee blinked, unable to believe her eyes. “That’s impossible.”
Roric pushed himself into a sitting position, lifting her into his lap as he did so. “Nothing is impossible.”
Yeah, after everything she’d seen in the past day, this was just one more crazy thing. “It’s gone.” Her mind seemed to be having a hard time grasping the fact the entire carnival had vanished, and with it, the carousel. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, but she could see the pain in his eyes. “There is nothing to be done about it now.” He shifted her off his lap, stood and helped her to her feet.
Aimee bit her bottom lip. Was he mad at her for stopping him from going after his goddess? “I had no choice,” she blurted out. If this was going to be an issue between them, it was better to get it out in the open.
Roric turned to her, his expression unreadable. “I know.” He raked his fingers through the tangle of his hair and changed the subject. “We’d better go back to your place.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her through an opening in the trees.
Nodding, she followed as he led the way. There was no doubt in her mind he knew exactly where he was going. She desperately needed to get cleaned up, yet again, and then there was the cut on Roric’s leg. Maybe he could heal it like he had the wound in her belly. She didn’t mention it even though she was worried about it. She sensed he wasn’t in the mood to talk.
Bone tired, she put one foot in front of the other, trying to forget the fact she was covered in demon blood. It stung her arms and face, and dirt stained her hands. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she pulled her hand out of his grip. Crouching down, she plucked some moss from the ground and rubbed it against her skin. It took off some of the blood, but not all of it.
Roric said nothing as he pulled the moss out of her hand and tossed it aside. His lips compressed into a hard line as he yanked his shirt off and used the cloth to wipe the blood from her face. His motions were stiff, almost rough, as he rubbed her arms and hands and the flesh between her fingers.
Anger rolled off him in waves, although none of it showed on his face. She felt buffeted by it, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. She’d done what she had to do and wouldn’t change anything if she had to do it again.
He’d just have to be mad at her.
She ignored the hard, icy lump in the pit of her stomach and chewed on her bottom lip to keep from crying. Tears were useless. She glanced at her watch and was shocked to discover the afternoon had passed while they’d been occupied. She looked around and, sure enough, darkness was closing in around them.
Once again, time seemed to pass differently inside the carnival tent with the carousel. The clock was ticking away, and there were less than six hours until midnight.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
When Roric was finished cleaning her as best he could, she didn’t thank him, didn’t speak. Instead, she turned and started walking. Even though there wasn’t much light, she knew where she was now. She was cautious as she stepped over debris, careful of her left leg, which was shaky after everything she’d put it through. The last thing she needed was to fall and injure herself.
Roric was close behind her all the way back to the car. He tossed his bloody shirt into the back then grunted as he fitted his large frame into the front seat. Aimee opened her door and climbed into the driver’s seat.
Taking a deep breath, she started the car, flicked on the headlights and started the drive home. Roric gave a low grunt. She glanced over and noticed his hand on his thigh. When he lifted it a second later the cut on his leg was closed. She breathed a sigh of relief as she turned her gaze back to the road.
Neither of them spoke while she maneuvered the vehicle over the dark, empty road. The silence lengthened between them, both of them lost in their thoughts. She gave a sigh of relief when she pulled into the driveway and parked in front of the house.
They both climbed out of the vehicle and headed toward the house. Aimee finally spoke as she unlocked the front door and went inside. “I’m going upstairs to get cleaned up.”
Roric put his massive forearm in front of her. “Not until I check the house.”
Chapter Seventeen
Roric was furious with himself. He’d lost all sense of reason back in the clearing. It was insanity to enter Hell to try to rescue the Lady on his own. Hades’ realm was not easily breached by those who didn’t belong. If he’d managed to make it there he’d have been just as trapped as his Lady.
Because of his lapse, the carnival and his friends were gone. But worst of all, he’d almost gotten Aimee killed. A sick feeling grew in the pit of his belly whenever he thought about her throwing herself in front of him to keep him from tossing his life away in a useless effort.
He’d played right into the demon’s hands. Allowed emotion to be used against him. He wasn’t proud of that fact.
It was time to make things right.
He had only hours to go. If he could keep Aimee alive that long, her part in this would be over. No matter what happened to him, he would not sacrifice her, not allow her to die.
The mental connection he’d managed for a brief second with the Lady had made things abundantly clear. Aimee must survive at all costs. Another innocent life must not fall to Hades.
Aimee, not he, had slain the demon named Sandra. The blood on her hands and face had been a testament to her bravery and an abomination to all that was sacred and good. He had failed to protect her. He would not do so again.
He shackled his hand around her wrist, keeping her close to him. Her pulse jumped beneath his fingers. From fear or anger, he wasn’t sure. It certainly wouldn’t be arousal. After the way he’d let her down, she’d never let him in her bed again, even if there were time for such activities.
He ignored the sense of devastation and loss that surged through him, accepting it as no less than he deserved. He was a warrior, a protector. Yet it was she who’d been forced to protect him.
Never again.
He would not allow her to be put in that position again. She was his to protect and, by the Lady, he would not fail.
Locking his emotions away, he got on with the business at hand. Taking a deep breath, he let his senses flare outward. The tiger within him perceived nothing out of the ordinary. There were no foreign smells or sounds. Still, he moved cautiously through the downstairs, checking every closet and room before heading upstairs.
He could hear her unsteady breathing as she walked up the stairs just behind him. Fear tinged her scent. Roric wanted to throw back his head and roar with anguish. A woman like Aimee should be safe and happy, not bloody and scared.
One by one, he checked every room. When he determined that it was safe, for now, he reluctantly released her wrist. As soon as he’d done so, he missed the connection between them.
Night of the Tiger hc-1 Page 21
