Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival) (13 page)

As if sensing her unease, the tiger scooted closer, resting his massive jaw against her thigh. She stared down at the beast. The man was still there. She could see Roric in the tiger’s eyes. It was unsettling.

“Ever since that time, I’ve had dreams. Mostly nightmares.” She raked her hand through her damp hair and sighed. “For the first few years it was snatches here and there. I didn’t have them often, but when I did, they were very real.”

The tiger licked her thigh where the sheet had slipped aside as if to comfort her. The heavy rasp of his tongue sent goose bumps racing down her leg.

“The only good dreams I had were the ones with the white tiger.” Roric grew still next to her. She glanced down at him. “Yeah, I know. It’s weird.”

He chuffed as though to encourage her to keep speaking. She shook her head. Now she was an expert in tiger sounds and body language.
Not
. “I’d catch glimpses of the tiger in my dreams. I always felt safe then. Like I knew I wouldn’t have any nightmares if he was there.

“Ironic, isn’t it? If what you’re telling me is true, then you’ve brought my worst nightmares straight to my doorstep.” That wasn’t quite true, and she was honest enough to admit it. “Or maybe I’ve been a pawn in this thing since the beginning. Just like you. Mythology shows that most of the ancient gods and goddesses really don’t care much for humans. We’re nothing more than collateral damage in their petty fights and wars.”

The tiger reared back and jumped off the bed, clearly offended by her words. She didn’t care. Somehow, through no fault of her own, she’d become stuck in the middle of some ancient feud between Roric and his fellow warriors and Hades, Lord of the Underworld. Whichever way you looked at it, it wasn’t good for her.

“No one ever said life was fair,” she muttered as she watched the tiger pace from one side of the room to the other. She slid off the bed, anchoring the sheet tighter around her once again. Aimee really wished she had some clothes on. Having this kind of conversation half naked wasn’t the least bit comforting.

The tiger froze her with a stare. His blue eyes mirrored his frustration and anger, but smoldering beneath that, she sensed his arousal. No matter what he felt about what she’d said, he still wanted her.

She could relate. The same madness seemed to be consuming her. “Not good,” she whispered under her breath. She had to remember that Roric had an agenda. This was no time for her to lose her head, or her heart.

The tiger threw back his head and gave a mighty roar before he began to change. His arms and legs shifted, muscles and bones reforming, reshaping. He pushed upward, coming to stand on two legs.

For a moment, his body was that of a man except for the long claws that tipped his fingers, the broad forehead and the sharp fangs that protruded from his gums. Fur receded, leaving tanned flesh in its wake. A thin line of hair bisected his chest, narrowing down to his groin.

Aimee wanted to glance away, but couldn’t tear her gaze from the impressive erection spearing up from between his legs. His heavily muscled legs were spread wide. His hands were resting on his lean hips.

His striking black and white hair brushed against his broad shoulders, and his features took on their normal, fierce cast. Roric was back.

Chapter Eight

Muscles tensed and cock throbbing, Roric morphed back into his human form. He couldn’t take his eyes off Aimee.
Aimee
. Just the sound of her name made him want to purr with contentment. There was something special about her that reached out and touched the bedrock of frozen emotions buried deep in his soul.

That wasn’t good. Emotions weakened a warrior, caused him to make mistakes. He needed to be cool and analytical, making whatever difficult choices needed to be made.

He frowned as he thought about what she’d told him. She’d dreamed of him long before she’d seen him. Was that part of the curse? Had the Lady sent her dreams of him to encourage her to trust him, to reach out to him when she saw the carousel? Without the dreams, would she have freed him? Would she have been able to?

Maybe she was on Hades’ side, a temptation sent to test his resolve, to steal his soul with soft touches and honeyed words. He couldn’t sense anything evil about her, but he couldn’t take the chance.

His frown deepened as her words came back to haunt him. Perhaps she was simply an unwilling pawn between Hades and the Lady. Certainly she hadn’t asked to have her life ripped apart and be dragged into a war where losing meant an eternity in the bowels of Hell.

There were no easy answers. What he did know was that he would not fall victim to her feminine lure. He could sate his body with hers and protect her from the demons without allowing her to touch him on an emotional level.

He had no other choice.

After five thousand years trapped a living hell, he wasn’t about to go to the real one. He was going to break the curse that had held him prisoner once and for all. When that was done, he would see about freeing his fellow warriors.

After that, if he was still alive, he would set his sights on saving the Lady of the Beasts, to whom he owed his allegiance. He would storm the very gates of Hell itself if he had to in order to rescue her.

“Are you okay?” Aimee walked toward him, her steps barely audible on the hardwood floor.

He should have been asking her that question. “Fine.” His answer was brusquer than he intended, but her nearness was pure torture. He was so aroused his balls were one perpetual ache. Every muscle in his body tensed when she stopped in front of him and reached out her hand.

She brushed her fingers lightly against his stomach, sending a bolt of lightning surging to his cock. His stomach muscles rippled, and he sucked in a deep breath. He was so close to the edge, it wouldn’t take much to make him spill his seed. Maybe it was because he’d been so long without a woman, but he suspected it had more to do with Aimee herself. She was like an addiction thrumming through his body, his blood. He wanted her.

His shaft pulsed in a primal rhythm, urging him to take her again. As much as he wanted to toss her down on the bed and drive himself into her heated channel, he knew they had to talk. He had no idea how long it would be before the demons found them and attacked. The fact that they hadn’t already made him suspicious. Once again, he was left wondering if Aimee was on the side of the demons.

There was only one way to find out. He would share his story with her and see what she did. “There are things I must tell you.”

She nodded.

Roric took her hand in his and led her back to the end of the bed, urging her to sit. She settled on the edge, staring up at him with her fascinating green eyes. He didn’t want to bombard Aimee with too much information. Best to keep it simple. “It all started with The Lady of the Beasts,” he began.

The corners of her mouth turned downward, and her brow furrowed as she tilted her head to one side. “That’s what he called me in my dreams. Only he called me the lady of the beast. As in one beast.”

“Who?” Roric was almost afraid to ask, but he needed to know.

Aimee shook her head. “Hades. I dreamed I was drawn into an antechamber of Hell and met the big guy himself. I researched the Lady of the Beasts online, but could only find some vague references to an ancient goddess who was basically the patron of animals.” Her eyes widened as understanding began to filter in.

Unexpected pain streaked through him. The world had forgotten the Lady. Hades and the Olympians had done their job well. “In the time before cities, when man still roamed the earth, the Lady of the Beasts was revered by all—a goddess of life and fertility in the ancient world.”

“I’ve read about goddess worship, but I didn’t find any references specifically to her.” Aimee tugged the sheet tighter around her, but it gaped slightly just above her breasts, giving him an unrestricted view of her cleavage.

Roric tried not to look. Not out of some long-forgotten sense of chivalry—he’d never laid claim to being anything but the beast he was—but out of a sense of self-preservation. It didn’t work. His gaze was drawn to the gentle slope of Aimee’s breasts, to the softness of her skin.

He swallowed hard and jerked his attention back to the topic at hand. “The Lady was a kind but practical goddess, the guiding light of all the animals of the world, animals that provided food, shelter and indeed life for the sons of man for generations.”

He broke off as he remembered those earlier times. They were happy times for all of them. Earth had been primitive and brutal, but there was much beauty and goodness to be found. He took a few steps away from the bed before turning back to face her.

“Then man settled into communities,” Aimee prompted.

“Yes,” he continued. “Man settled and began to plant and harvest the earth, forcing it to his will. With the settlement of people came the need for leadership and government. Wealth and power were in the hands of few. The Greeks began to worship Zeus and the other Olympians. Forgotten was the Lady of the Beasts as new gods and goddesses took her place in the minds and hearts of the people.”

“Hmm.” Aimee crossed one leg over the other, absently swinging her foot.

The sheet parted, revealing her long, shapely legs. Not even the scars that ran down her left leg could detract from her beauty. Roric’s gut tightened with a hunger he knew he couldn’t sate. There wasn’t enough time to take her again, even if she would allow it.

“Zeus was the Lord of the Sky, the king of the gods, wasn’t he?”

Aimee obviously knew something about Greek Mythology. “Yes.” Roric could still see Zeus demanding the surrender of the Lady. The arrogance of the Greek gods still astounded him after all these years. “His brother, Poseidon, was made Lord of the Seas, while his other brother, Hades ruled as Lord of the Underworld.”

Aimee nodded. “So Zeus and the crew wanted to take over.”

Roric remembered warning the Lady of the rise of these new gods, but she went about her business, not concerning herself with them. He’d known it was a mistake, but he hadn’t realized just how heavy a price they would all pay for it. “The Greek gods were a jealous lot. They wanted none of the older gods or goddesses to distract the people from worshipping them. Plotting and planning, they looked for ways to bring about the Lady’s downfall. Hades was behind all of it, planting ideas in Zeus’ brain.”

Aimee sucked in a breath. “That doesn’t sound good.”

He prowled back and forth across the room, aware of Aimee’s gaze on him as he put his thoughts into some kind of order.

For centuries, he’d replayed the battle over and over in his mind, examining what had happened. Could he have done more? Could they have defeated the Olympians? “On the command of Zeus, Hades led the attack. But he hadn’t counted on the Lady’s protectors—seven warriors, all fearless and loyal—being so hard to defeat. Part man, part animal, part eternal life essence, these powerful, immortal warriors fought with the strength of the beasts they represented—bear, wolf, phoenix, serpent, lion, jaguar and…”

“White tiger,” Aimee completed his words in a hushed tone.

He paused by the end of the bed and stared down at her. “Yes. We fought bravely and fiercely, but were overpowered by the sheer number and power of Hades and his armies.” Defeat was a bitter taste in his mouth and a burning knot in his gut. Even knowing that he and his fellow warriors had done all they could to save the Lady, they hadn’t been able to stop Hades from capturing her. There had been too many demons to fight.

Roric forced himself to finish the last of the story. “Knowing her time was short, the Lady used the last of her power to cast a spell upon us, her warriors, determined that we have a chance to survive. All of us were frozen in time in our animal forms. We could not be destroyed. The Lord of the Underworld could not claim our souls. For more than five thousand years, we have been earthbound.”

Aimee gasped. Her face was pale, her hand trembling as she held it out to him. “This is unbelievable.”

He felt his spine stiffening at the implied slur on his honor. “All I have said is true.” He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but forced his hands to remain by his sides.

Her fingers curled inward and she slowly withdrew her hand, her gaze falling to her lap. “I didn’t mean I thought you were lying, just that this is such an amazing story. Like something you’d read in a book of mythological tales. My God, you’ve been imprisoned for thousands of years, unable to move. I would have gone mad.”

Knowing she believed him eased some of the coldness in his soul and the bitterness in his belly. “I’m not sure I didn’t, at least for some of the time.” He didn’t want to think about the long, bleak, empty years. “Our protection from Hades was also our prison. The spell she cast became more of a curse as time passed by. We were constantly guarded by demons from Hell. I think Hades feared we’d somehow get free and take our vengeance on him.”

She raised her face and he saw the anguish in her eyes, and knew it was for him. He felt unworthy. “Aimee,” he began.

“Some of the spots on the carousel were empty. What happened?”

He started pacing again, his mind awash with grief for his lost comrades. “I’m not certain. All I know is that about sixty years ago the carousel was built. A group of demons put together the carnival, and we’ve traveled all around the world. It was as though they were searching for something. Or someone.”