"What I did to you?" Her brows were furrowing in confusion that appeared genuine. "I don't know what you're talking about." Understanding flashed across her face. "Oh, you mean the grenade. Yes, I apologize for that. It wasn't personal."
He felt the craziest urge to laugh at her answer. "Not the grenade."
"No?" She frowned. "Then what are you talking about?"
"You don't know?" He slid the sword away from her heart and bent over her, brushing his lips over her collarbone. She sucked in her breath, and blood surged to his cock. "How about the fact I want to sweep you up in my arms, carry you into my cabin, and spend the next twenty-four hours learning every inch of your body with my hands, my lips, and my tongue? Bringing you to ecstasy a thousand times over, and then make love to you until neither of us can think a coherent thought for days? What about that?"
Her eyes widened, and a faint blush rose to her cheeks. "Holy shit. Really?"
"You know I do." He leaned closer, his lips brushing against hers. He closed his eyes, and inhaled, allowing her scent to permeate his body. His cock got even harder, and he moved his hand, sliding it over the soft skin of her belly. "Or what about the fact I want to slide my fingers through your hair and breathe in your scent until it's etched in my brain for all eternity." Shit. Had he really just said that? That was definitely not him.
He opened his eyes and nearly came at the raw heat in her gaze.
She wanted him as much as he wanted her. In the same way.
What the hell?
He swore and pulled back. He took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. No woman had ever come close to affecting him like this. It wasn't natural. "Who are you?"
She shook her head once. "My God," she whispered. "The rumors don't do your kind justice. You're like this boiling cauldron of temptation. Is it something you drink? A potion? A particularly nutritious breakfast?"
He did grin this time. "No potions." His smile faded at the flush on her cheeks. She was definitely feeling the same response as he was. She wasn't a fan girl with a Calydon addiction. She was genuinely affected by him, and despite her questions, he was nothing special.
"This isn't natural," he said. "It's not normal—"
He stopped suddenly as an idea occurred to him.
"What is it?" Alarm flashed across her face. "What's wrong?"
"Holy shit." Oh. Shit. He knew what it was. How could he have been so blind? Damn. He was getting slow in his old age. "You're an Illusionist. You've been working me over."
The look of shock that flashed across her face was all the confirmation he needed. "What?" Her voice cracked slightly. "An Illusionist? I'm not an Illusionist—"
He almost grinned. "You're a terrible liar. Adorable, but really, quite terrible."
She narrowed her eyes, and he knew she was regaining her composure. His grin widened. He would much prefer her giving attitude over trembling in terror of him.
"I didn't put an Illusion on you," she retorted. "All that hot and heavy came from you, not me. When I kissed you, I wasn't expecting—" She paused, sudden despair raking over her delicate features. "Dammit. I totally failed at killing you."
Ajax decided not to take offense to her crushing disappointment that he was still alive. He could practically taste the bitterness of her defeat, and he could sense her anguish in each breath she took.
He inhaled her despair, realizing that she was too upset for the attack to have been a job. She was personally invested in his death, not a hired assassin. She had not been put in place as a pawn for Viktor.
So…that was great to know Viktor hadn't tried to kill him a second time, but that did raise some new questions like…what was her deal?
He studied her, certain she was an Illusionist. Illusionists were rare these days, and he was too seasoned to believe her appearance at his door with a grenade was unrelated to the other Illusionists they were dealing with.
He'd bet his ass there was a connection, and he needed to figure it out before it was too late. If there was any chance she could provide info that could help him find Viktor, he was going to find it.
She had information she wasn't sharing, and it was time he found out what it was.
Her face paled, and he knew he'd shown too much on his face, a mistake he never made. He realized she was still screwing with him. He stood up and held out his hand. "Come on."
She ignored his hand and propped herself up on her elbows. "Why?"
Damn. He liked that she had a little attitude with him. He cocked an eyebrow. "Because you're tempting as hell lying on my porch like that, and I want to get some answers before I seduce the truth out of you."
Her eyes widened. "I'm not kissing you again."
"Good." He bent down and encircled her wrist. "Come on."
She pulled her wrist free and scrambled to her feet on her own. "Where?"
He nodded at his cabin. "Inside." The word almost surprised him when he said it.
He never took anyone inside his cabin. It was against his rules.
And yet, he was going to do it anyway.
With her.
He opened his door, stepped back, and let her lead the way in, not quite able to keep himself from setting his hand on her lower back as she passed him.
Chapter Twelve
Madison felt as if she were on fire.
Ajax's hand was searing hot against her back as he guided her through the doorway, and she could still taste him on her lips.
She hesitated for a split second on the threshold. Was she really going into his house?
Ashley's face flashed in her mind, and she knew the answer was yes. She hadn't managed to kill Ajax, but Ashley's captor wanted him.
Which meant Ajax, even alive, was still her best chance to get her sister back.
So, she took a deep breath and stepped into his home.
It was a one-room cabin. Sparsely decorated, but it made her feel safe. As if it were a sanctuary that no harm could penetrate. There was a utility kitchen in the corner, a bare wood floor, a huge stone fireplace against one wall, and an enormous bed against the other. Both the bed and the fireplace looked hand-made, and she wondered for a split second if Ajax had built them. Was there a side to him that wasn't steel, violence, and decadent temptation?
If there was, she was in so much trouble.
He set his hands on her shoulders, his grip just tight enough to make her realize that maybe it hadn't been the wisest plan to follow him into his home. She glanced around, realizing there was no way out. No one to hear her. No one to save her.
Fear slid down her spine, wrapping around her.
"You are an Illusionist," he said softly. "A danger to all Calydons. I know you are. Calydons are being murdered by Illusionists right now. Tell me what's going on."
His words were low. Quiet. But laced with a clear threat.
Fear tightened its grip on her. What if she told him the truth? That her sister might be the one killing them? That she was so much more deadly. She thought of Pete's warning, not to trust anyone. Of Ashley's captor, with the knife at her neck, threatening her if she failed.
Sudden fear beat at her. Indecision. Confusion. Panic. He was her chance. This was her chance. She'd already failed to kill him. He didn't trust her. How could she fix this? Ashley.
A faint pressure began to press at her temples, and she swallowed, trying to slow her breathing. She hadn't had an Illusion since the day at the yoga studio, but she could feel one sliding beneath her skin, lurking, ready. Shit.
His hands tightened on her shoulders. "If you try to do an Illusion," he said softly. "I will stop you."
Her gaze shot to his face, and this time, the fear that hit her was fear of herself, of what she would do. To him. To herself. To all of them. "You can't stop me. No one can stop me." She hadn't meant it as a threat. She'd meant it as a warning. But as soon as the words were out, she realized she'd made a mistake.
Ajax reacted so quickly she didn't have time to defend herself. He spun her a
round, locked her hands behind her back, binding them fast, faster than she could respond to. Panic hammered at her, and pressure started to mount in her brain. "You have to let me go." Her mouth was dry with fear. No longer of him. Of herself. Reacting to the terror of being bound.
"I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was soft. "I just need to make sure you don't do an illusion."
"Binding my hands won't stop me!" She struggled to get free, panic building in her.
"No, but it will stop you from taking off the blindfold, which will stop the illusions."
"What?" She stumbled backward from him, but there was nowhere to go.
He grabbed a T-shirt from the bed and wrapped it around her head.
The moment darkness descended on her, panic attacked. Fear ripped through her, and she started to panic, fighting to rip her arms free, fighting for safety, for—
"Hey." He gripped her shoulders. "Stop." His voice was gentle, almost soothing. "I swear I'm not going to hurt you."
"I'm going to hurt you," she gasped.
His grip tightened. "Is that a threat?"
"God, no. A warning." Tears streamed down her cheeks, her chest hurt, she couldn't breathe. Power rippled beneath her skin like a beast rumbling to life. Holy shit. An Illusion was building. "Run," she shouted. "Run away from me. It's coming—"
He kissed her suddenly, a hard, aggressive kiss that went right past her panic, straight to her core. She went still, shocked by the sensations rippling through her at his kiss. He took advantage, pouring his kiss into her, his tongue sweeping deep with a forcefulness that stripped away her defenses until all she wanted was him.
She kissed him back and his lips softened, slowing as he licked his way down her throat. No longer an assault, but a seduction, designed for pleasure and—
"Stop!" She tore her mouth away from his, and he released her.
For a moment, neither of them moved, both of them breathing heavily. She caught his scent, a rich aroma of smoky cedar, with an undercurrent of something so dangerous and tempting that her toes curled, and her heart began to pound. He was all male, down to his scent and the muscled lines of his thighs as they cupped hers, the way his hips pinned her down. He made her feel small and protected, as if nothing could get past him to hurt her.
Not even an Illusion, which he'd stopped with only a kiss—
Oh, God. She'd almost done it. She'd almost called out an Illusion that would have killed him... She started to shake with terror, and her stomach churned with fear. "Please remove the blindfold," she whispered. "I can't handle it."
He pulled it free immediately. His fingers went to her chin, lifting her head to study her face. His touch was gentle, but she could feel the roughness of the pads of his fingers. "The blindfold should have neutralized your powers," he said thoughtfully. "Without visual anchors, it's nearly impossible for an Illusionist to call out an Illusion, but I felt the shift in air pressure and the power clawing beneath your skin. How'd you almost call one?"
"I'm extremely powerful," she said, her heart heavy. How could she deny the truth? She was a monster, the real kind of monster. "Why did your kiss stop it?"
He shook his head. "I don't know." He sighed. "Since the blindfold didn’t stop it, there's no point in this." He turned her, and removed the wrist binding, letting it drop to the floor. "Are you all right?" His brow was furrowed, and she could see the concern on his face.
"Yes." Her heart tightened at his concern. How could he look at her like that after she'd almost killed them both? Didn't he see her for the monster she was? She hugged her forearms to her chest, trying to calm down. She'd come so close. So freaking close.
"Talk to me." He lightly touched her hair, brushing it back from her face, his gaze roaming over her, as if he were checking for damage.
She had no doubt he could sense her fear. No, not just fear. Her terror. Would he know she was scared of herself more than him? "About what?" She was so drained. She felt like she had nothing left.
He lightly touched her chin, lifting her face to his so their gazes met. His dark brown eyes were deep and penetrating, but not scary. Not anymore. Not compared to the real monster in the room. "Not much of a question about whether you’re an Illusionist now. So, I'll ask you again, what are you doing at my cabin—"
He stopped suddenly, his face darkening as he stared at her.
She stiffened. "What?"
"You're hurt." Ajax couldn't take his gaze off the dark bruise along the side of her neck. When he'd restrained her, he'd been vigilant to protect her skin and not hurt her, but someone else hadn't been so careful with her.
Adrenaline fired through him, his weapons burned in his arms, and his mind blanked of anything but the need to kill whoever had touched her. "Someone hit you." His voice was a dark growl, and he saw Madison's eyes widen, scented her sudden fear even through his defenses.
She began to tremble. "He—" She stopped herself, and Ajax realized her fear wasn't of him, but of the man who'd hurt her.
Darkness clouded Ajax's mind as Madison's tension gripped him. Anger boiled deep inside him at the sight of the injury, at her shudder when he'd asked her about it. He'd kill the bastard who hurt her—
Shit.
What was happening to him? Ready to murder on her behalf? She'd arrived at his house with a grenade, and she was an Illusionist who had almost called one out in his home. He should be considering her an enemy, a lethal threat, not a woman he needed to avenge with death and torture.
But right now, all he wanted to do was draw her into his circle of protection, swear to keep her safe, and make her his.
After, of course, he hunted down the man who'd hurt her.
None of his reactions to her made sense, even if she were an Illusionist messing with him. He was cold. He was focused. He was level-headed. All of which made him a great warrior.
This…this intensity of a reaction. It wasn't him.
He released her and turned, striding across the room. He needed distance. He was hard as a rock, and could barely think straight when he was touching her. The craving to consume her was so intense that it didn't make sense.
He turned to look at her, hugging her arms to her chest. Vulnerable, afraid, and injured. It made him crazed to think of someone else's hand on her.
Swearing, he tried to focus on the situation. "Where's Viktor?"
"Viktor?" She frowned. "I don't know who Viktor is—"
"Dammit! Where the hell is he?" He ran his hand through his hair, trying to focus. She was making it impossible to even concentrate. "There aren't that many Illusionists around, and I know that an Illusionist got to him—" He stopped when she paled. "You do know who's screwing with him."
"I don't—" Her response was too quick.
"You do." With a scowl, he crossed the room toward her.
She backed up quickly, until her legs hit the bed, knocking her off balance. As she sat down on it, he followed her, bracing his hand on either side of her. "Tell me about Viktor."
"I swear I don't know anything about Viktor. I don't. I was sent—" She stopped.
Ah. Finally, progress. He softened his voice, sensing her fear. "Who sent you?"
Tears filled her eyes. "He'll kill her. He'll kill her if I tell you. You're supposed to be dead. Can't you just let me kill you?"
He laughed softly. "I can't do that." Protectiveness surged through him, and crouched in front of her. "Madison." He waited until she met his gaze. "Who are you afraid of? And who are you afraid he'll kill?"
Anguish flared in her eyes. Desperate. Deep. Genuine.
He knew he was about to get the truth.
And it was going to be bad.
Chapter Thirteen
Madison opened her mouth to answer him, then thought of Pete's warning, that no one would help her rescue Ashley, especially not a Calydon whose friends were being victimized by her.
Especially not this warrior with the cold eyes and ruthless stare, who she'd just tried to kill. There should be no mercy i
n him, not for her, and certainly not for an Illusionist preying upon his kind.
But there was more to him. She knew it. He kept it hidden, but she'd seen it in the gentleness of his touch, even when she'd tried to kill him. In the depth of his response when he'd seen her bruises.
Ajax was a man of honor. She was certain of it.
She had to try. She took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Is Viktor a Calydon? One of the ones who has been murdered? Because I'm pretty sure I've met the man who is behind it."
His breath hitched slightly, such a tiny reaction that she didn't so much as hear it as feel it. Or sense it. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she did.
He needed to know about Viktor as much as she needed to save her sister. "Tell me who it is." There was a wealth of threat in that one command, a lethal promise of what would happen if she were lying.
It was that threat that made her certain it was right to tell him. He cared enough to do whatever it took to save Viktor, and that would mean he'd be willing to hear the truth, because only the truth would save his friend.
She suspected Ajax was too good of a warrior to be deceived by lies or appearances. Heck, maybe an Illusion wouldn't even work on him. Wouldn't that be amazing? A man she couldn’t hurt? Unlikely, but not impossible.
But what was possible, she was certain, was that they might be on the same page regarding what was happening to the Calydons and Ashley. "Two weeks ago—"
She stopped suddenly. What if telling the truth put Ashley in more danger? How much could she tell him without endangering her sister? She paused, trying to figure how to approach it.
Ajax swore under his breath, his hands tightening on the bed. "I will find him, Madison. You don't need to fear reprisals by him. I'm very, very deadly. Tell me."
She decided she had to tell him. There was no way she could kill him now. Her sister was already dead, unless she found another way to help her. "Two weeks ago, my sister, Ashley, was kidnapped. I think—" She hesitated. Could she really tell him that Ashley might be killing Calydons? "I think the man who kidnapped her could be forcing her to distract Calydons while he murders them. She can be very…distracting."
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