A Spartan's Kiss (44 page)

“Not a chance. You and I are going home. You to bed, me to watch you in bed.” Aeros rubbed a hand down Tabithia’s arm as he spoke, keeping his tone and touch tender.

Tabithia grinned and turned to Derrick. “See, Wolfie? I have it all under control. Lesson one, when you need to be waited on hand and foot? Just fake an illness, oh, or a scratch, or—”

“Tabithia, don’t scare me like that again.” Aeros stood with her still cradled in his embrace. She hooked her arm around his neck, and his heartbeat slowed to almost normal. Her head fell down on his shoulder and she exhaled against his skin.

“I won’t,” she whispered so low he almost missed her words. His grip tightened around her uncontrollably. Had she been as affected as he’d been?

“We’ll just catch you later,” Samantha said.

He heard her but his concentration was on Tabithia, the way she looked up at him, as if she feared he’d disappear. She’d been the one harmed, and yet something in her expression said the casual way she’d laughed it off was merely bluster.

“Have Tab call me when she’s better, Aeros. It’s important.”

He glanced back at Samantha and Derrick and nodded. The attack had been well planned. If Tabithia had not been there, he wondered if Samantha would have made it out of the alley alive. One glance at Derrick and his possessive posture, and Aeros had his answer. Derrick would have killed and had killed, Aeros realised, anyone that thought to harm Samantha—even the mage.

He would have to call the council, Dominic for certain. Death Stalkers walking around with their alliance proudly announced to the world wasn’t something he could ignore.

Not even for the woman in his arms. And maybe because of the woman in his arms. He wanted their world to be safe. Safe enough to raise the family he’d always wanted. Just the thought of Tabithia rounded with his child had his arms tightening around her light weight.

“They came for me. Twice. Something is up. Shit, who knows, maybe I’ve dug something up they wanted left untouched,” Samantha said.

She gave Derrick a searching look. Turning back to Aeros, she shook her head, running a hand over her hair. “I’m sorry to drag you both into this. Take care of her, Aeros. Now and always.”

“Always.” Aeros met Derrick’s eyes once. He’d do more than take care of her—he’d bond her. Tonight. If she was completely healed. If not, then as soon as she was herself again.

* * * *

“Okay, so say that again, because there must be something wrong with my hearing, Aeros. And I just know there’s not. But I thought, well, I’d give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Tabithia stood facing Aeros across the enormous room he called a kitchen. Why he needed so much space to cook meals was beyond her. A phone, a list of Chinese restaurants, and she was golden. Right now, she was irritated. Pissed off, actually. At him.

The feeling had been growing over the past few days, but now? She practically had hit rage state.

His attitude wasn’t helping. He sat, looking lazy and casual, at the room-length bar. Breakfast bar, whatever. He planted his forearms on the counter and gave her a disapproving look.

“I said you aren’t going to help Samantha any longer. Rumours are flying that she’s been attacked twice more. Both times she’s not been harmed, but you are not going to her aid. The council—”

The rage state hit her harder, and her vision dimmed to something dangerous. She tried to pull it back. She and Aeros had spent the last two days making love in every conceivable way. They’d shared meals, long showers, leisurely, uninterrupted lovemaking, but she knew their time was limited. The outside world, her coven, her friends, her family would burst the bubble of happiness sooner or later, but she’d counted on Aeros to stand with her and ensure this place, their time together, wouldn’t end. That they’d get through whatever hit them. Together.

He was attempting to tell her what to do with her life.

There was zero chance of that. Less than zero. Still, she took a breath, held it for the count of ten, and exhaled before meeting his curious gaze.

“Aeros, you are under the mistaken impression that you are somehow in charge of me. What has led you to think like this? Me? I doubt it. So tell me. Explain why you feel you can order me”—she jerked a thumb at her chest and wished she wasn’t dressed in a frilly sundress and had her black jeans and black shirt on instead. But she barrelled through—“around? I never—will never, correction there, Sparkie, will never—take orders from you.”

She took a breath and held up her hand at his scowl and what she knew were words she didn’t want to hear. “No, don’t speak. Just listen. For once in my life I feel good. I like being with you. I like this place. As huge and empty as it is, it’s kinda cool, but this? No way José. I have people depending on me. What did you think? We’d have amazing sex and suddenly I’d be your…what?”

He stood so abruptly, with such an intense, dark look, she fought not to take a step back. “You’re mine. I need to make sure that you are safe, not harmed. Not hurt. You almost died in that alley. Don’t.” He slashed his hand downward in a cutting gesture and stalked towards her. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I wasn’t going to. If you want the truth, and I assume you do?”

He halted and folded his arms over his perfect chest. Looking sexy and angry, he nodded sharply.

“I lost focus because of you! You got hurt, and don’t lie. You did. I saw the slice across your stomach, I saw it, and when I heard you get hurt, I lost focus. So! If anyone is to blame, it’s you! Maybe I should never go into battle with you.”

“You will never go into battle”—he stressed the world with a low snarl—“again. Never again.”

What. The. Fuck. She staggered back from the rage in his eyes. He was angry. Very, very angry. Suddenly, she felt unsure, exposed in ways she never let happen. Almost naked under his censure. And it was censure. He was…disgusted with her? Her throat seized up, and she staggered a step back before she could stop herself.

“You almost died in that alley, Tabithia. I had your blood on my hands, and there was nothing for me to do to save you. I have no gifts. I can’t heal. I can’t fight a mage with a spell. I won’t allow you near a battle again and chance losing you. Even now, you could carry my child.”

Each word felt like a blow, a sharp snap of a hammer on a coffin he was nailing down around her. She fought for breath. His brow drew down and the intensity in his dark eyes pinned her in place.

“You are my bonded. I’ve held back from the words to bind us, but I won’t any longer. You are mine. Mine alone. I won’t chance our lives on your ability.”

Her mind came to a full stop. Thoughts swirled so fast she could feel the room spinning. He didn’t trust her ability. Her. He didn’t trust her.

“No, I don’t trust you, Tabithia. I don’t trust you not to harm yourself. I can’t leave you. I fear if I do you’ll harm yourself. Nothing, no one will harm you again, sweetheart, not even you.”

He drew his button-down shirt aside and pulled out the pendant she thought he’d got rid of. A chill swept over her skin.

“You knew. I knew you did. But you’ve not spoken of it.” Her voice came out so low, so softly she sounded hoarse. Her throat was dry, suddenly dusty and painful.

“I didn’t want to hurt you further, sweetheart.” His handsome face creased in a pained expression and he nodded, to whom she had no idea. “I’ll take care of it. Of you. You’ll be safe. I’ll make all the pain go away, all the reasons you had to endure it disappear. I’ll order you to forget, to not harm yourself, to be happy.”

She stumbled back from the look on his face. He was serious. Deadly serious. All this time, these past few days, she’d seen him watching her, his dark eyes intense, his expression thoughtful, pensive. Was this his answer?

Her heart hammered so hard her blood sang loudly in her ears. She fisted her hands to try to tamp down the rage spilling up, flooding her, but he opened his mouth, his hand on the pendant, holding it tightly, and she knew he was about to speak. Her hands flew up and power radiated from her like a homing beacon bursting through his kitchen and hitting the walls like a gong. The cabinets flew open and dishes crashed through the air to hit the walls and floor. The house groaned. The windows burst in on them and still she fought the power raging through her. How dare he?

She must have spoken aloud, for distantly she heard him yell her name. She fought to open her eyes past the power flooding her. Slowly, with every ounce of strength she could muster, she saw him again. He fought to stand upright, his face a hard mask of disbelief.

“You think to cage me? To imprison me! You don’t trust my ability? My strength? I can destroy this mountain with a thought. I can call down lightning with the wave of my hand.”

“Tabithia! Stop this. Stop this now!”

She laughed and threw her head back. His orders. Did she stop? Hell, no. She waved her hand. Lightning tore through the kitchen and the stove burst into flames. She caught the fire in her palm, tossing it as the wind blew through the room. In the distance, she heard a wolf howl, answering her summons. All of nature answered her summons, and he doubted her?

Aeros stood his ground, his eyes only narrowing when his order went unheeded. She motioned, and the pendant flew to her palm.

“I’m thinking it had a limited warranty, Sparkie.”

“It had served its purpose.”

The kitchen and all the flying debris disappeared and suddenly she stood with Aeros in a glen. The complete, utter stillness in the air hit her like a soft blow to the face. She blinked rapidly, and suddenly Aeros closed the distance between them and pulled her protectively into his chest. Moist woodland air flowed over her face, and she struggled to push him away enough to turn in his arms.

“Daughter. Your temper tantrum is not necessary. Aeros must come to terms with your power. You must give him more time.” Bridget the warrior spoke, but the eldest version of her goddess nodded in agreement, a stern look on her face.

“Sonofab—”

She jabbed Aeros in the stomach with her elbow, more than a bit satisfied at his whoosh of air.

“‘Tis all right, Tabithia, if he is startled. You have taught him a lesson, I am certain.” The youngest of the three walked towards them, and she felt Aeros’ arm tighten around her. She thought maybe he trembled a bit.

“Aeros, meet my goddess, Bridget, in all her forms.”

He swallowed noisily behind her, and she chanced a glance at his face. He had blood on his cheek and his eyes were strained, the weathered wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes tight with tension.

“Tabithia—”

She halted his apology with her fingers. “You’re sorry. I know. Don’t do that again, Aeros. Not trust me. We need to talk…” She paused uncomfortably. “I’m sorry I’m so screwed up. I…”

“You are not screwed up. Damn it, I don’t want you thinking that. Tabithia, look at me,” he demanded when she looked down at her hands. He tipped her head up and met her eyes with a look that melted her. “I love you. I love you and didn’t want to see you suffer any longer. I wanted to help.” He grimaced and shook his head. “I rushed in, when I should have held back, waited—”

“Aeros, I’m not a battle.”

A smile softened his lips ever so lightly. His brow rose, and her stomach bottomed out. He melted every inch of her with that look.

“Oh? Baby, you scare the hell out of me more than any other battle I’ve ever fought.”

“Sweet. A summons by the Three and I find you, my missing captain, and your little witch. Ladies.”

They both tensed at the sound of Ares’ voice, but when Tabithia glanced over, the god of war looked nothing like the powerful deity she’d faced before. He looked unshaven, rumpled and dressed in a dark T-shirt and dirty jeans with black shit-kickers on his feet. Heck, he looked grungy.

“Ares, you are welcome to our home. But you must show more respect,” the eldest goddess scolded him with a censorious look and took a seat on a high-backed wooden chair that appeared behind her. She waved her hand and a table with more chairs appeared. “Sit. Join us in this discussion.”

“Discussion?” Tabithia murmured, meeting Aeros’ worried frown.

“Yes, sit. All of you. We are expecting one other, but she will arrive soon.”

Dare?

Aeros pulled her close and whispered, “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

He looked so distressed she hugged his arm to her chest and pulled him down to sit next to her. She took his hand in hers and brushed a kiss to his jaw.

“I think it’s okay.”

Ares snorted, ran a hand through his shaggy hair, and pulled out a chair to sit. He sighed heavily as soon as he eased down in the chair. He looked like hell.

“You look like you’ve had a tough time, Ares.”

Bridget popped her boots up on the table and crossed her bow over her thighs. Leaning back, she stared down the table at Ares. He frowned and, for once, didn’t spout nonsense. Maybe Dare was getting to him. But what had he been up to? He looked like he’d been working as an auto mechanic.

“I’ve been forced to live here”—he waved a hand around them, then grimaced—“On Earth for days now. Dare won’t see me. Alone. She is dancing”—he growled the word at them—“for men, and I’m forced to do nothing.”

He shouted the last words before he sank back, looking exhausted. Glowering at her, then Aeros, then the Three, he huffed something and looked away. His powerful frame tensed, and he jerked up two seconds later when Dare popped in across the table from him. She wore a soft white dress, with little pink rosettes around the low, plunging neckline. She would have made Marilyn Monroe envious.

Tabithia grinned and caught Aeros’ worried look.

“Why don’t we have popcorn?” she whispered when he leaned closer.

Dare met Ares’ glower with a small frown but turned and bowed to the Three. “You called.”

They called? Did they often call?

“Yes, come. Sit.” The eldest motioned to the table and smiled over at Dare like her long-lost daughter had come for a visit.

A chair, similar to the ones already around the table, appeared next to Tabithia, and Dare walked over, smiling at her before she sat.