Dark Side of the Moon (32 page)

Ravyn felt sorry for the man. What he had inside him was actually very typical for a new Dark-Hunter. That sense of outrage and of being wronged. The need to strike out at everyone around you. Hell, he'd even attacked Acheron when the Atlantean had shown up to train him. But then, he hadn't really needed training. Unlike a human warrior, he was used to his powers and used to fighting preternatural beings.

“When do you want to start your training?”

“I don't need training,” Nick said. “I was a Theti and I know how to stake a Daimon.”

As a former Squire, Nick also knew the basics for Dark-Hunter survival.

“Fine. I guess for the first time in history, Savitar was wrong.”

“He wasn't wrong. He just wanted an excuse to get me off the island. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do.”

Ravyn didn't even want to go there. He didn't say anything as Nick left the room. That was one troubled man. But until he was willing to let go of the bitterness, there was nothing Ravyn or anyone else could do for him.

As Ravyn started for the door, he froze. There was something strange in the air … a whispering.

Closing his eyes, he summoned his powers of cognition and tried to hone in on it. But for his life, he couldn't. Instead, it settled as an uneasy feeling deep in his gut. Something bad was about to happen. He just couldn't tell what it was.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ash laughed deep in his throat as Artemis clutched him to her in the throes of her latest orgasm. Sighing in complete contentedness, she held him close as the last tremor shook her body.

“Ah,” she breathed in his ear as she draped one arm around his neck while her long, shapely legs slid from around his waist to the floor so that she could support her own weight.

Ash wiped the sweat from his face with his hand. Every muscle in his body was twitching from the marathon she'd put him through over the last six hours. His long blond hair was damp while his entire body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He gladly welcomed the cool breeze that whispered in from the veranda.

Leaning back against the wall, Artemis laughed seductively. “Surely you're not giving up so quickly, Acheron. Only two more to go now. I wonder what position we should try next?”

He pulled away and gave her a crooked smile as he summoned a towel and used it to wipe at his chest. “Actually, that was your sixth and now you owe me a feeding before I leave.” Completely uninhibited by his nudity, he draped the towel over his shoulders and held it in place with both hands.

Her face fell immediately. “What?” She looked past his shoulder to her hourglass on the shelf above her bed. It was still half-full of sand. “You're wrong, Acheron. That was only four since I started timing this.”

Leaning on one arm against the wall where she stood, he savored the sensation of having bested her again. One day she'd learn not to play these games with him. But what the hell? At least it kept him on his toes. “From when you started logging your time, yes. But not from when I started logging mine.”

He snapped his fingers and five hourglasses appeared beside hers. Each one had started right before her orgasms began. One hourglass to mark the hour from when one started until he had given her six within the allotted time.

All had expired except for the last two, but it was the fourth hourglass that was important. Held between the hands of two black gargoyles as the last few sands were quickly making their way from the top to the bottom, it was his key to freedom. He held his hand out and it shot from the shelf to his waiting grip so that he could show it to her.

“This one started earlier, right before you had your last two orgasms and vanished out of the room to delay our bargain. You came back after
your
hourglass had expired to begin again, but mine was still going … marking the time from when the last two left off to these four. Now I've fulfilled our pact, Artie. You've had your six orgasms in one hour.”

She shrieked in outrage. “No! That wasn't what we agreed. You—”

“Yes, it was,” he said calmly, cutting her off before he returned the hourglass to its shelf. “That was the exact wording of our contract. You set up the terms and I abided by them. Now you have to free me for ten hours.”

She balled her hands into fists as her face turned as red as her mussed hair. He knew she was having to mind her tongue to keep from calling him a liar. But then, she knew what he did—he couldn't lie. Once his word was given, it was unbreakable.

“I hate you!”

He snorted. “Don't keep saying that, Artie. It's cruel to get my hopes up.”

In her anger, she threw her hair over her shoulder as she continued to fume at him. His gaze narrowed on her exposed neck, which caused his stomach to rumble.

She paused instantly. Her green eyes darkened as her heartbeat picked up.

Unable to stand the temptation, Ash jerked her to him with one arm, dipped his head down, and pressed his lips to the throbbing vein that enticed him like a Siren's lure. The sweet fragrance of her blood made his own heart pick up speed as he opened his lips to taste her. He felt his incisors growing until he knew they were long enough to give him what he needed.

Growling deep in his throat, he sank his fangs into her neck and tasted the life that flowed inside her. Feeding was the only time he really wanted to be in her presence. The only time she didn't infuriate him beyond his best tolerance.

Here, for a moment, he found her soothing. Her blood calmed him as it nourished his hunger. Without breaking from her, he separated her thighs again and drove himself back into her body.

Lifting her legs from the floor, she cried out in happiness as her hands roamed his back while he continued to take what he needed.

He would be free of her soon.…

*   *   *

Susan looked up from the floor as Ravyn entered the room with an air of distraction hovering around him. There was something strange about his demeanor. It wasn't like him to be so preoccupied. Normally when he was in a room, he was
in
the room.

“Are you all right?”

His face grim, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don't know. Nick's words keep chasing themselves around in my head. Kind of like ferrets or something else vile and evil. Not that ferrets are particularly vile, they're actually kind of tasty when I'm in leopard form.”

Susan screwed her face up. “That's disgusting.”

He winked at her. “I know and I'm only kidding. I don't like anything raw in either form … except for female flesh.”

“Ew! That's worse, you cannibalistic necromaniac.”

“You mean necrophiliac?”

“No.
Necromaniac
as in ‘lunatic with the dead.'”

He appeared to consider that. “Actually, wouldn't it be
unnecromaniac,
as in ‘the undead'?”

Susan held her hands up in surrender. She knew when she'd been bested verbally. “Switching topics back to Nick. What's bothering you exactly?”

“After you left, he kept saying that he thought one of our own, a Dark-Hunter, would betray the rest of us.”

That bothered her, too. It was really a scary thought, but she had a hard time believing the men and women she'd met upstairs would turn on one another. There seemed to be an unspoken respect and brotherhood that existed between them.

“Boy, as Erika said, he's just a ray of sunshine, isn't he?”

Ravyn didn't seem to find the humor in her sarcasm. “Yeah, but I think he's right. Can you imagine how much damage a Daimon could do if they possessed a Dark-Hunter?”

More than she really wanted to think about. The Daimons had done enough damage in Daimon form. Imagine one masquerading as a good guy … that could get ugly really fast. “How easy could that be to do? I mean, you guys kick serious Daimon ass, right?”

“I don't know—they've taken out two of us already and came too damned close to killing me. It's enough to make me wonder how much of Nick's crap is true and what isn't.” He cocked his head as if realizing that his words were really getting to her.

She didn't like the thought of being Daimon bait. But then, neither did he.

“Don't worry about it, Susan. I'm just thinking out loud.” He moved forward to hand her the manila folder in his hands.

“What's this?”

“A present from Leo.”

Susan set it aside as she watched Ravyn withdraw back toward the wall. Something really wasn't right about him. It was like he sensed something that she couldn't, and it reminded her of a pet that was staring at the wall. And just like that pet stare, it unnerved her. “Hey?”

He looked over at her.

“I wanted to ask you about something Erika said earlier where you're concerned.”

He scowled at her. “I don't wear purple panties to bed and I don't chase cat toys when they're thrown down in front of me.”

Susan was stunned by his unexpected response. Uh-huh. It was obvious the man had some hidden issues.

“What was that action? What are you talking about?” she asked with a laugh.

He looked baffled by her question. “Isn't that what she said about me? It normally is … and it's most definitely not true.”

Susan couldn't speak as she fought down her laughter. Most likely, he wouldn't think it funny to be laughed at, but it was hard to bury. Her mouth merely opened and closed like a guppy as she sought a suitable answer.

Finally she got enough control to speak again. “Well, I can certainly vouch for the lack of panties myself. I've been down there enough to know. As for the other … that could be interesting. Maybe we should try an experiment?”

Ravyn shook his head at her. “So what was your question then?”

Susan hesitated as she considered what he might answer. Not to mention, she was a bit captivated by the rugged appearance he made standing in the room as if ready to battle someone. “Erika said that, as a rule, you don't allow people around you for more than twenty-four hours.”

He nodded. “It's true.”

She couldn't imagine how he tolerated that kind of isolation. She liked to be alone, but not always. There were definite times when she liked having friends over. Or honestly, times when she
needed
someone around her. “Why is that?”

His face droll, he made an interesting noise. “Ever notice most people are major pains in the ass? I'd rather save myself the trouble of dealing with them and just avoid being around them to begin with.”

In spite of the sincerity of his tone, she didn't buy that answer. It came too automatically, as if he'd rehearsed it repeatedly. More to the point, she was learning a lot about this man. There was a weird blankness that came into his eyes whenever he wasn't being honest, or whenever he was hiding something.

He had that look now.

Getting up, she walked over to him. They stood so close that she could feel the heat of his skin. Smell the sharp, tingling fragrance of his aftershave. His expression turned guarded.

“Talk to me, Ravyn.”

He looked away as a veil descended over his features. Susan placed her hand against the muscle that was working in his jaw. The dark whiskers of his cheek gently scraped the palm of her hand as she felt an inner connection to him. It reminded her of taming a wild beast.

His eyes flared at that as if her action irritated him. “I don't need you to soothe me, Susan. I'm not a child.”

“Good,” she said seriously. “I'm not a nanny. I personally like to avoid most children, since they're rude, ill-mannered, and usually smell like freaky kinds of juice and mixed fruit.” She frowned as those words struck her with a bit of humor. “Wait a second, given all that, you
do
remind me of a child.”

He gave her a peeved glare.

She smiled at him as she patted his cheek playfully. Something that reminded her she was actually petting a wild leopard who could tear her arm off if he wanted to. That thought sent an odd sensation through her. She really was taunting the devil.

“Sorry,” she said, not out of fear, but out of guilt that he didn't find her comment funny. “I couldn't resist.” She lowered her hand from his face before taking his large, scarred hand into hers. “Now you know I'm a reporter, so you might as well answer my question truthfully, or I'll just keep asking it until you lose your mind.”

Ravyn growled low in the back of his throat. It wasn't in his nature to confide in people. Even when he'd been mortal, he'd always preferred to keep his personal business just that—personal.

But he'd learned enough about Susan to realize she wasn't joking. She would stay on his tail like a hound running a fox to ground. In a way, he actually respected her persistence and some alien part of him actually liked being honest with her. He liked having someone who knew him.

So to save both of them a lot of time and pain, he answered her. “Honestly? I don't want people around me for two reasons—they ultimately betray you or they die on you. Either way, you're screwed and you spend all your time obsessing on why you didn't see it coming. Or that you did something or didn't do something to cause it. No offense, but I don't like to be hurt and I'd rather just avoid it.”

He saw the compassion in her blue eyes as she stroked his hand with her thumb. “Tell me about it. My father ran out on us when I was too young to even remember what he looked like. He donated his sperm, then fled his responsibilities. My mother never mentioned him, but I knew she was never the same after he left. To the day she died, she refused to date anyone. And when I got into trouble with my career, all those people who'd been my so-called friends ran like frightened rats from a sinking ship. People I'd known and trusted for years, even the one person I thought I loved. The only ones who stayed were Jimmy and Angie, and strangely enough, Leo … and don't get me started on the dying part. I'm trying hard enough not to have a breakdown.”