Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival) (25 page)

BOOK: Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival)
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He knew he should say something, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice what could never be. Instead, he leaned down and touched his lips against hers. They were soft and warm and inviting, parting immediately for him.

With no more than that tiny touch, his body was on fire, burning for her. He wanted to strip her bare, scoop her into his arms and take her to bed until they were both sated. Roric figured that would take at least a week, if not longer.

Every muscle in his arms and chest tensed as he pushed away from her without deepening the caress. Her taste was on his lips—bitter coffee and warm, willing woman. Her eyes were glazed with passion and she swayed toward him.

“Now that he knows we will fight, he’ll be sending stronger, smarter demons to defeat us. If we do not give in to his demands, he will not let us live.”

Aimee shook herself and licked her lips. Roric swallowed back a groan and moved away from temptation. “But there’s a time limit, right?”

Ignoring how sexy and delectable Aimee looked, he picked up the scroll from the table. “Yes. The Lady used the last of her powers to save us, even if it was to lock us into a curse. Hades has twenty-four hours to sway us to his side. After that time, our immortal souls are safe from him. He cannot harm us. Ever. If he tries, whatever power he sends against us will ricochet back on him. That is why it is so dangerous to him if one of us manages to survive. He may be a god, but there are some things not even he can change.”

“What will happen to you then?” Aimee wrapped her arms around herself, as though she were cold. He wanted to warm her but didn’t dare. His thoughts were scattered enough as it was.

“I will continue to try to discover a way to free my fellow warriors and find out the truth about the ones already set free. One or more of them may be alive, maybe imprisoned in Hell. I don’t trust Hades to tell the truth about that. He’d want to divide and conquer us. Once that is done, I will search for a way to rescue the Lady.”

She nodded as if he’d confirmed what she already knew. “Then we need a plan if we hope to survive.” She glanced at the clock hanging on her kitchen wall. “Until about ten o’clock tonight.”

He shook his head. “Midnight. The clock started ticking at midnight.”

“Figures the time would be dramatic, the witching hour. Couldn’t just be plain ten o’clock?” she muttered. “That would mean we’d have two less hours we needed to evade Hades. So what do we do? We can’t run. We can’t hide. Can we?”

Roric wished he could stash Aimee somewhere safe until this was over, but that was impossible. Hades’ minions would find her. “I want to visit the carnival.”

Aimee released her arms slowly, letting them fall back to her sides. She looked at him as if she thought he’d gone mad. Her words confirmed that. “Have you lost your mind?” Her cheeks flushed as her anger grew. “That place is run by demons, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Her tart tongue almost made him smile. “I haven’t forgotten. But my friends are still there. If I can find a way to free them, it will help even the odds.”

“I thought only a chosen woman could free a specific warrior.”

Roric inclined his head. “That is one way we know for certain. Perhaps there is another.”

Aimee began to pace back and forth across the kitchen. “Okay, if we’re going to do this we need to be smart about it. We can park a ways down the road and circle around through the woods.” She nodded to herself. “I can show you the tent where I think the carousel is. Maybe we can sneak in without anyone seeing us.”

It was more likely the demons would be lying in wait. But he didn’t tell her that, didn’t want her more frightened than she already was.

“If we get that far, it will probably be a trap,” she added. He knew she could see the surprise on his face because she snorted. “What? Did you think I was stupid just because I don’t have a penis?”

Roric wisely kept his mouth shut.

Aimee narrowed her gaze and nibbled on her bottom lip. “They know the carousel is a temptation you can’t ignore.”

“And still you will go with me?”

Aimee shrugged. “It’s crazy, but I don’t think we have much choice. It’s better than sitting around here waiting for them to attack.”

Roric agreed. The warrior in him wanted to go on the offensive, to take the fight to the enemy. But the man in him, and the beast, wanted to protect Aimee. “You could stay here…” He trailed off as she shot him a look that wasn’t pleasant. His Aimee had a core of steel within her.

“I repeat—do I look stupid? Everyone knows that if the woman stays behind the bad guys attack and kill her. That’s a given in any bad horror flick. And that’s what my life has become.”

She must have seen his quizzical expression because she gave a frustrated huff. “You know, movies. Made-up stories with actors shown at the local cinema or on television?”

He nodded, even though he wasn’t quite certain what she was referring to. He’d heard of television, but he’d never seen one. He understood the concept of movies. They were much like a play except the people weren’t really in the room to perform. It was quite fascinating actually. He was suddenly filled with the need to experience one of these movies with Aimee.

She stalked toward him. Stopping in front of him, she poked him in the breastbone. “The best chance I have of living through this nightmare is to stay by your side. There’s safety in numbers.”

Roric could hear the fear beneath the bravado. His heart clenched. His chest ached. He made a vow to himself that he would somehow get Aimee out of this alive. No matter what it took.

He captured her index finger, which was currently trying to drill a hole in him. “We will stay together.” He turned her hand so that their palms were touching. Their fingers twined together. It was a bond and a promise.

“Okay then.”

“When this is over, you’ll have to tell me more about these bad horror movies and why you watch them,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Better yet, I’ll show you some. I think you’ll like them.” Aimee grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. For a moment, the worry was driven from her eyes. “It’s a date,” she promised.

Roric tightened his fingers around hers. He searched his mind for the meaning of the word. It was a social engagement between a man and a woman. He’d never actually done anything like that before. In times gone by, if he wanted a woman he simply crooked his finger and she came. He was a warrior of a goddess, and all women had been pleased by his sexual attention. And that was all it had been. He’d never had the time or inclination for anything more.

Now he found he was intrigued by the idea of spending time with Aimee. A date. He wanted it badly, but knew he’d probably never be able to have it. Another grievance to set at Hades’ door. Still, he nodded in agreement. “A date.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Whose brilliant idea was it to come this way?” Aimee scooted forward on her belly, ignoring the chill of the ground as it seeped through the legs of her jeans. Her brown wool jacket was covered in dirt and twigs and God only knew what else. She was trying not to think about bugs. It was such a girly thing to worry about, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d rather face a demon than a spider any day.

“Shhh,” Roric admonished as he shifted closer, his body not making a sound as he moved. She wished she could be half as quiet as him. He seemed to glide through the undergrowth, a gift from his inner tiger, no doubt.

“It was yours, if I remember correctly,” he whispered. He was so close she could feel his breath against her ear.

It hadn’t taken them long to get here, that is once Roric had let her leave the yard. He’d been fascinated by her car. It was an ancient, beat-up silver Volkswagen Beetle that had seen better days, but she liked it. He’d wanted to know what every instrument did and had played with all the buttons like a little kid. The sense of wonder on his face had made her heart turn over.

It brought home to her once again just how long he’d been trapped in the prison of his own body. He’d been able to absorb information from the world around him, but knowing something and seeing it were two different things. She’d insisted on giving him a brief driving lesson, just in case they had to make a quick getaway and, for whatever reason, she couldn’t drive.

They’d jolted around the yard as he tested the gas and then slammed on the brakes. He’d almost sent them into a ditch, but managed to swerve away at the last second. Aimee had given silent thanks that her car was an automatic. She couldn’t imagine trying to teach him to use a standard on such short notice.

They’d taken the road to the fairgrounds, with her firmly in the driver’s seat, but stopped about a half mile away. Aimee had pulled the car off the road, but she’d turned the vehicle around first. If they had to make a run for it, she wanted to be headed in the right direction.

That was an hour ago. Since then, they’d walked and then skulked through the woods. Roric had made a complete perimeter check of the carnival. The man moved like a ghost. He’d left her on several occasions, disappearing and returning without a sound. She sounded like an elephant clunking through the woods in comparison.

The carnival grounds were quiet, with only the occasional person wandering around. Aimee didn’t know if they were all demons or not. Roric said they were and she trusted him. He was an immortal warrior after all, with all kinds of super senses she didn’t have.

“When are we going into the tent?” Waiting around wasn’t going to make it any easier. In fact, it was doing just the opposite. The longer she had time to think about it, the less of a good idea it seemed. Yet they really didn’t have any other option.

Roric brushed a stray lock of hair away from her cheek. His touch was incredibly gentle, so at odds with such a large, rough man. “There’s still time for you to return home.”

She shook her head. “I told you how that story goes—single woman, home alone, eaten by demons. Not pretty.” Aimee admitted to herself that she was scared to death. It would be stupid not to be. But she’d rather be here with Roric than home alone, waiting and wondering.

“Okay. Stay close to me.” His blue eyes searched her face as he waited for her agreement.

“Believe me, I have no intentions of wandering off on my own.” No way was she going to be one of those TSTL—too stupid to live—heroines, like some she’d read about in a few of the graphic novels and comics she’d illustrated or watched in the movies. She had an immortal warrior on her side, and she was sticking close.

“Good.” He stared at her until she started to squirm. Even lying in the dirt and bugs, the man turned her on. How sad was that?

He leaned forward and kissed her. Unlike the last kiss he’d given her in the kitchen, this one was hard and deep. His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting her, devouring her. Aimee couldn’t breathe as Roric sucked the air from her lungs. She clutched his shirt—another one of her father’s—and slid her hands slowly up his chest until her fingers dug into his shoulders. She was gasping when he pulled away.

“Stay behind me,” he whispered before turning away and moving stealthily toward the edge of the woods.

Aimee thought about shucking her jacket. She was suddenly way too hot. The urge to hit him was overwhelming. How could he kiss her senseless and then just slip away like nothing had happened?

Muttering a few unpleasant things under her breath about men, and immortal warriors in particular, she crawled after him. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to keep up without making too much of a racket. She also managed to think only once about the bugs she was probably dragging her body over. Okay, twice. She was only human.

Roric came to a halt behind the tent she’d pointed out earlier as the most likely one to contain the carousel. She’d gone over the layout in her mind repeatedly until she’d retraced her steps as best she could. If it wasn’t the exact spot, it should at least be close.

He glanced over his shoulder. Whether for confirmation or just to check on her, she wasn’t certain. But she nodded anyway. Without a word, he swiveled back around and crept swiftly over the open ground to the edge of the canvas tent. A dagger appeared in his hand, and he silently used it to slit through the material. Poking his head through the hole, he checked out the interior.

Once again, Aimee was reminded that he was special. He moved with a fluid grace that was mesmerizing. The tiger was hunting.

He turned and beckoned her forward. Glancing to the right and left, she left the dubious protection of the trees and shrubs when the coast looked clear. The dry grass crackled beneath the soles of her boots, and her pulse whooshed in her ears so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else around her. Roric held the material apart and she slipped through the opening.

The dagger disappeared and was replaced by a sword. Aimee recognized it as one of the four-foot-long weapons he’d used to dispatch the demons earlier. Apparently, decapitation was the only sure way to kill a demon. A gunshot might slow it down or incapacitate it for a while, but it wouldn’t kill it. Roric had been very clear about that when she’d asked him earlier.

She’d wanted to bring her splitting maul with her. Roric had argued that it would be too cumbersome for her to drag through the woods. Plus, he’d manifest her a sword if there was fighting. She wanted to ask him for one now, but didn’t dare speak. She knew the basics on how to use one, thanks to a seminar she’d taken on medieval sword fighting at a comic book convention her agent had talked her into attending. Not that she was actually skilled with a sword, but she wasn’t likely to harm herself with one either.

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