Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival) (20 page)

Her jeans and sneakers were fine, but her top was a mess. She smelled of sweat, soot and sex. She wrinkled her nose as she stripped off her sweater and bra and dumped them in the hamper, unable to believe she’d shut out the destruction, the smells and the memories of what had happened in her living room long enough to have sex with Roric. And not just any sex. Fantastic sex. It boggled the mind.

As she undressed, her mind rolled over the situation, trying to see it from every angle. She was still pondering the possibilities as she wet a facecloth and quickly dragged it over her face, arms and chest. She looked longingly at the shower, but knew this was faster.

She unzipped her jeans and washed between her thighs, being gentle with the swollen flesh. When she felt clean and fresh once again, she dried off and brushed her hair back into some semblance of order. Satisfied she was as good as she was going to get, she went back to her bedroom and hauled a clean bra and sweatshirt out of her dresser.

She’d just finished tugging the hem of the shirt to her waist when she sensed she was not longer alone. Thinking Roric had come to find her, she raised her head, ready to reassure him she was going to help him.

Only it wasn’t Roric.

Chapter Twelve

The stranger leaned against the wall just inside the doorway. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants that clung to the thick muscles of his thighs. The olive drab T-shirt he wore was stretched at the seams, barely containing his wide shoulders. Combat boots covered his feet. He looked like a cover model for
Soldier of Fortune
magazine. Even without any obvious weapons, there was no mistaking the lethal air surrounding him.

He was handsome, in a classic sense. His hair was jet black, his skin darkly tanned. But it was his eyes that both drew and repelled her at the same time. They were as dark as midnight and as cold as the dead of winter.

“Who are you?”

She knew she should be screaming bloody murder. There was a strange man in her bedroom, and a dangerous-looking one at that. But after everything else that had happened, she was beyond hysterics. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty, but other than that, she was surprisingly calm about the entire situation. She’d settled herself to the fact that she probably wasn’t going to survive the next twelve hours or so. With that decision made, a sense of peace had settled over her, a sense of purpose.

“You can call me Mordecai.”

Why was that name familiar to her?

One corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “Mentioned me, did he?”

It came to her with her next breath. “You’re one of the warriors.”

He pushed away from the wall, all sinewy grace, and prowled toward her. She backed away from the dresser, not wanting to get hemmed in. He might be one of Roric’s friends, but something about him gave her the willies.

His smile deepened, but it wasn’t a pleasant thing to see. It reminded her too much of the smile Hades had given her in her dream. She shivered and shifted closer to the window. She could always jump if it came to that.

“You’re smarter than I expected.” His low, purring tone raised the hair on her arms and the back of her neck. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her intellect told her there was no way to outrun him. Like Roric, this man was a predator. It was in his blood.

She licked her dry lips and tried to think. “What exactly did you expect?” She tried to inch toward the door, but he casually moved to block her.

He shrugged and the muscles in his arms rippled. “Some insipid creature like the one who freed me.”

Aimee frowned. “Shouldn’t you be grateful to her? After all, she could have left you there.”

He gave a low laugh, as if amused by her naïveté. She could see it in his eyes. “She had no choice, just as I had none. I wanted to survive. There was no way I was going to end up locked away for another five thousand years or more.”

Where the heck was Roric? He needed to be hearing this. He’d never believe her if she told him one of his fellow warriors had gone over to the dark side, but that was exactly what had happened. “You took Hades’ offer.” It wasn’t a question. She could see the truth in his eyes.

“I got smart.” He cocked his head to one side, watching her intently. “I got tired of being on the losing side.” For such a large man, he made no sound as he took another step toward her. “I like winning.”

“I see.” She didn’t really, but she wasn’t sure how to respond. “It was easier to turn traitor than to do what was right.”

Anger burned in his dark eyes. “It’s so easy for you to sit in judgment,” he snapped. “You, who have never been tested. I gave my life, thousands upon thousands of years of loyalty, and what did it get me? Cursed and forgotten.”

Aimee sidled a little more to the left. He was getting much too close for her peace of mind. Unlike Roric, who’d attracted her from the start, she felt no such pull to Mordecai. In spite of his good looks, he repulsed her on some deep level. “She didn’t forget you. The Lady used the last of her power to keep all of you out of Hell while she went there in your stead.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Not any longer.”

That didn’t sound promising. “Why doesn’t it matter?” Aimee resisted the urge to rub her hands up and down her arms. She was suddenly chilled to the bone.

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking totally relaxed. “Hades will have his way in the end. Stavros and Phoenix tried to defy him, tried to fight.” He slanted her a look from under his hooded eyes. “They both perished, as did the women who freed them.”

Aimee almost doubled over with pain. It was like being socked in the gut. She’d known her chances of coming out alive at the end of this battle were slim to none, but she realized she’d still had the tiniest sliver of hope until now. “What about the woman who freed you?” She had to know.

Mordecai smiled, and Aimee could practically feel a layer of ice encasing her even as the flames of damnation danced in his eyes. “After I fucked her, I killed her. Then I bargained with Hades for my freedom.”

It was nearly impossible to breathe in the presence of such evil. “And did Hades give you your freedom?” She couldn’t see the Lord of the Underworld giving something so precious so easily.

“With stipulations.” Mordecai walked over the bed and stared down at the rumpled sheets. Aimee could feel her cheeks heating. With the dents in each of the pillows and the sad state of the sheets, there was no mistaking what had gone on in the bed. “I lead his army and I can have whatever I want—power, money, women.”

“Everything except your honor,” she whispered. He flinched slightly as though she’d hit him, but other than that he gave no indication that what she’d said had hurt him in any way. When he turned around to face her, there was no sign of vulnerability, no weakness she could discern.

“I find I’m not all that concerned about my honor these days.”

She didn’t believe him. There was something about him, a sadness that seemed to surround him. It made her think he regretted his choice. But maybe her imagination was running away with her, and she was seeing what she wanted to see.

Going on the offensive, she took a step toward him. After all, if he was going to hurt her, he’d had ample opportunity to do so. “What do you want?”

His cocky attitude was back in the blink of an eye, making her doubt she’d ever seen even the slightest amount of sorrow or regret. “The question is what do
you
want?”

He stalked toward her, circling her slowly. She felt the brush of his fingers on her spine, the puff of his breath against her ear as he spoke. “What does Aimee Horner want most in the world?”

“Nothing,” she whispered.

He came to a halt in front of her. Grasping her chin between his thumb and index finger, he raised it until their gazes met. “Liar.” His voice was soft and low, a lover’s caress. He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “We all want something. What would you do if I could give you back your parents? If I could turn back time to that awful day and have the drunk driver miss your family’s car? What would you do? What would you give?”

Hope leapt in Aimee’s breast. Her thundering heart threatened to burst free from her chest. Could he truly do that? “How?”

“All you have to do is betray Roric. And what does he really matter to you?” Mordecai smiled knowingly as he glanced toward the bed. “He might have heated the sheets with you, but believe me, he’d sacrifice your life in a second if he thought it would free the rest of those losers on the carousel or the precious Lady he’s so fond of.”

“I know.” It hurt to say it aloud, but Roric had never lied to her. His mission was what mattered to him, his honor. She respected him for that.

“And it’s not really betrayal,” he continued. “It’s more saving yourself and your parents. You have the power to do what’s right for your family. Will you throw it all away on an immortal warrior who cares nothing for you?”

Aimee thought about how gentle Roric was with her when they made love. His strength was enormous, yet he’d never hurt her, always tempering it so she got the most pleasure possible. She thought about his struggle to stay detached from her, the way he talked about the goddess he’d faithfully served since the dawn of time, how he worried about his friends and fellow warriors. Roric was a man to respect, and his mission was a just one.

As quick as hope had bloomed, it withered and died. She had to remember who she was dealing with. She was no dummy. She’d read her share of horror novels and comics, and the devil always got his due.

Slowly, she nodded, knowing she was signing her own death warrant and putting an end to all her hopes and dreams. She knew her parents would want her to do the right thing. They’d raised her to know right from wrong, and there was no doubt in her mind that what he was offering was wrong.

Mordecai pursed his lips and nodded. He thought he had her. She wanted to slap the smug look from his handsome face.

 
“And then what?” she added softly. “They’ll die in a horrific fire a few months later. Or perhaps they’ll both be drowned or shot or die of disease. If you change one event you alter a thousand more. It’s like a ripple in a pond, never-ending. How many other lives will change? How many other people will die if I take your offer?”

“What do you care?” She could sense his growing impatience. “You’ll have what you want?”

“How many?” She’d been watching him closely and had seen the slightest flinch. It wasn’t really a flinch, more of a muscle twitch just beneath his left eye, but she knew she’d hit the nail on the head with her assumptions.

He leaned so close their noses were almost touching. “The drunk driver who hit your parents’ car would hit a school bus filled with children instead.” He straightened. “As to how many would die…” His shoulders moved up and down as he shrugged again. “Who knows?”

Aimee swallowed back the lump in her throat as she thought about all those children losing their lives before they’d really had a chance to live. “That’s pure evil.”

Mordecai shook his head. “That’s choice. Think of it as collateral damage.”

“Is that what your friends are to you? Collateral damage?”

His face turned to stone. “If you don’t want your parents back, how about fame and fortune instead? You could become one of the biggest names in the art world.”

Aimee shook her head. Reaching out, she laid her hand gently on his arm. The muscles beneath her palm quivered. “Give it up. There is nothing you can offer me that will make me betray Roric. I don’t want to be famous. I don’t want money. What good are they when I don’t expect to live to see tomorrow?”

Something that might have been respect reflected in his eyes for a brief second, but was quickly replaced by scorn. He stepped back and her hand fell back to her side. “You’d give your life for his?”

“For hope,” she corrected. “And it’s mine to give.”

He snorted. “It won’t be yours for much longer. Soon it will belong to Hades.”

“Perhaps,” she acknowledged.

“Tell Roric I said hello. And tell him that this was the last offer. If neither of you will budge, the gloves are off. You’ll soon see how little he values you when he tosses you to the hounds of Hell to save himself.”

“Perhaps,” she echoed.

Mordecai grabbed her shoulders and yanked her toward him. Before she could react, his mouth covered hers. Time stopped as he plunged his tongue into her mouth in an erotic caress that sent an icy shiver down her spine and left her cold. He banded his arms around her, fisting his hand in her hair and tilting her head to one side to deepen the kiss.

Aimee brought her hands up to his chest and shoved with all her might. It was like pushing against the side of a mountain. Like Roric, there was no give in him. Switching tactics, she brought her knee up hard and fast. Mordecai broke the kiss and managed to jump back at the last second.

He laughed. “Spunky. I like that.” He licked his lips and laughed again when she swiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “I’m going to ask Hades to give you to me. You’ll be my personal slave for all eternity.”

“Get out,” she commanded. “This is my home and you aren’t welcome here.”

As it had in the living room, a dark circle seemed to appear out of nowhere, sucking all the light from the room. Mordecai stepped through the portal, raising his hand in farewell. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” he promised. “Dream of me.” He blew her a kiss as the circle closed in on itself and disappeared.