Marked (16 page)

As soon as he stepped in the room and smelled the familiar scents of lavender and vanilla, his blood heated, and the dream that had become an unfinished reality back in her small house by the lake flared bright.

A warm glow from the dying embers in the fireplace fell over her body. She lay on her side, snuggled into her pillow, the thick blankets twisted in her long legs. Her shirt had ridden up, and the slightest hint of flesh was visible between the low waistband of her jeans and the edge of her blue cotton tee. His eyes ran over her bare skin, lower to her hip and over to the soft sweet mound of her ass. Thanks to their sultry night together, he knew exactly what that ass looked like…bare and beautiful and marked. His blood pulsed low and hot in response.

She is the One.

He frowned at the strange voice in his head. Yeah, well, he knew that already, didn’t he?

Forcing his gaze away from her beautiful backside, he ran his eyes slowly up her body, across her abdomen, over the swell of her breasts to her face, trying to tamp down the arousal turning him into a rocket launcher. Exhaustion lines marred her perfect skin, and blue smudges had formed beneath her lashes, but to him she was just as stunning as she’d been the night she rescued him from the daemons outside that club.

Just as beautiful, but thinner.

For the first time, he noticed Nick had been right. She looked exhausted. Her skin had lost its rosy color and she’d dropped several pounds in just the past few days.

She’s the One.

The voice grew stronger as he stood there staring at her. Would the Fates really be so cruel as to give him a half-breed destined to save his race as a soul mate?

His heart pounded in his chest as he turned for the
bathroom and took a cold shower that did nothing to cool him down. Of course the Fates would curse him. Because he was of Heracles’s line. The one hero that was still, to this day, revered by some and reviled by most others. Heracles’s indiscretions were as numerous as his accomplishments, and every Argonaut of his line had been dealt a blow because of his selfishness. Why would Theron think he’d be any different?

Of course, it was still possible he was only attracted to Acacia because of the way they’d met and who he knew she was. And the fact she was a forbidden and tempting treat he’d never sampled. If she was
his
One, however, there was a sure way to find out.

He grew hard and hot at just the thought. As he toweled off, he debated his options. The one that stood out strongest wasn’t ideal, but he had to know, didn’t he? Once he got this absurd thought out of his mind, he could refocus on the real reason he was here.

Decision made, he pulled on his pants and quietly walked back into the bedroom. Acacia was still out, having shifted only slightly since he’d first stepped into the room. Tired to his bones, he slid into the big bed beside her and gently pulled the covers up around her waist. As he rolled to his side, he fingered a lock of hair falling over her shoulder and brought it to his nose.

He smelled grapefruit and remembered the shampoo in her shower. Her hair was soft and silky between his fingers. As silky as that between her thighs. The roar returned to his head. His erection responded to the visual in his mind, and he hissed in a long breath to tamp down the renewed arousal zinging along his nerve endings.

Even if she is
your
One, she’s sick. And she’s the king’s daughter. It won’t make a difference.

Yeah. There was that. And the fact that honor and duty came first with him, no matter what.

Though it nearly killed him, he forced himself to let go of her hair, and in the process brushed her shoulder with
the slightest touch. In sleep, she groaned and inched his way, as if searching for more contact. And before he knew it, her beautiful backside came into full contact with his hips, and the erection he’d been trying so hard to keep in check grew rock hard.

The blood rushed out of his head with a screaming roar and went due south.

Take her. Now. Find out, right here.

His cock wedged its way into the crease of her behind as if it had a mind of its own, where it pulsed and pounded and begged for release. A moan slipped from her lips, a mindless act of approval. His lust for her grew to explosive levels. He slid one of his arms around her belly and tugged her back to his bare chest. It was all he could do not to tear off her jeans, flip her to her stomach, lift her hips and plunge hard and deep to discover just what it was about her that left him in such a frenzy.

And oh, he was ready. He wanted. Needed. But just as he shifted to turn her, her scent drifted into his nose, that sweet and familiar combination traveling through every nerve in his body and all the way into his soul.

Where, oddly, it calmed him. The way it had in her little house. Enough that his brain kicked into gear and common sense came flooding back. His cock still jerked with a rabid desire to explode inside her, but he found he could control the urge. That he could lie here next to her and enjoy the warmth of her body against his without the burning need to overpower and take what he wanted by force.

He wanted her to come to him as she had in her house.

His heart rate slowed. He closed his eyes and drew in long, deep breaths, more tired than he remembered being in…ages. And that’s when he heard the voice. Again.

She’s the One.

Casey knew she wasn’t alone even before her eyes drifted open. The rhythmic breathing at her back was a dead giveaway. As was the hard arousal nestled against her backside.

Any normal woman would have panicked, especially considering the circumstances. But she wasn’t normal—not anymore—and even before she looked she knew it was Theron up tight against her back. His dark, spicy scent flooded her senses. In the stillness, the solid weight of his arm across her hip became as real as her pulse pounding in her brain.

What the hell was he doing in her bed?

Carefully, so as not to wake him, she rolled to her back. The movement made his arm slide across her belly, sending sparks along her nerve endings. She sat up slowly and reached for his hand to free herself from his gasp, only to falter when their fingers touched.

A jolt of electricity shimmied through her. The room spun. And suddenly she wasn’t in a bedroom anymore, but in a dark and cold forest, surrounded by the undeniable sights and smells of death.

She gasped. Turned a slow circle. Wondered how she’d gotten here and where Theron had gone. Cannons exploded behind her, the loud sounds making her jump and whip around. Dried leaves crunched beneath her feet. Shouts and curses and bloodcurdling screams came from far off in the distance.

Dear God, she was in the middle of a war zone. Her adrenaline spiked. She looked right and left as her heart
kicked up to rival the roar of a 747 on takeoff. Where was Theron?

Gunfire echoed. Followed by a voice Casey knew intimately, booming from the trees no more than twenty yards away.

“Patéras!”

Without questioning her common sense, Casey tore off in that direction. Then pulled up short when she reached the small clearing and the scene laid out before her.

Two daemons lay mauled and incapacitated on the hard earth near a small bubbling brook. Fresh blood oozed from their wounds to run down their grotesque faces, staining the ground with the vileness in their veins. A man—the one from Casey’s dream the night she’d met Theron—lay on the ground mere feet away. More blood gushed from a gaping wound in his chest, his eyes and mouth open as if he was in shock. Across the small stream, a boy who looked no more than fourteen, wearing a ratty gray coat, stood slack-jawed, with eyes as wide as saucers. In his arms he cradled a smoking rifle.

Theron bolted through the trees at Casey’s right and dropped to the ground beside the older man, his own features twisted in disbelief. “
Patéras
. No.”

“Theron,” the man gasped, reaching a shaky, bloody hand up to grip Theron’s shirt. “You must finish them.”

“I will. I…
Patéras
.” He placed both hands over the wound in the other man’s chest. “We have to get you back. Now. We—”

“
Ochi,
” the older man barked in a weak voice.

Theron’s muscles froze as if he hadn’t heard right.

“Ochi,”
the older man said again, softer this time. “My time has already come and gone. You must”—he cringed in pain—“finish them.”

Theron lifted grief-stricken eyes to look toward the daemons, who, Casey realized in horror, were starting to revive, bloody stumps and all.

“This is what you were born for,” the older man said,
pulling Theron’s attention back to him. “You will take my spot—”

“No.”

“You will do as the king commands. You won’t question his authority. Trust him as you trust me. Remember we are”—the older man took a shuddering breath—“of the same line.”

“Patéras,”
Theron whispered.

The older man’s hand fell against the dirt. His eyes flickered, and his voice dropped to a whisper.
“To peproōmenon phugein adunaton, gios mou.”

Then his head rolled to the side, and in the silence that followed, Casey watched a single tear slide down Theron’s cheek, roll across his chin and drip onto the older man’s face.

Though the daemons were now growling low in their throats and groaning as they righted themselves, Theron’s motions were slow and methodical. He carefully closed the older man’s eyes, then looked up across the river to where the young boy, still frozen in place with the whites of his eyes showing all around his dark irises, stood immobilized, staring at the scene.

And though Casey couldn’t see Theron’s face, she knew there was murder in his eyes. The boy knew it too. He wet himself, dropped the gun and ran as hard and as fast as his small legs could carry him.

Casey screamed a warning just as the first daemon lunged. But she needn’t have bothered. Theron was on the beast in an instant, pulling a blade as long as his forearm from somewhere deep in his coat and decapitating the staggering daemon with one vicious slice.

The other daemon rose to his towering height of seven feet and, though visibly wounded, growled low in his throat. “You will pay for that, Argolean.”

“I’m no common Argolean,” Theron snarled. “And you are about to meet Hades up close and personal.”

Casey gasped at the malicious intent she saw in Theron’s
face, took two steps back until her spine hit a tree trunk, then covered her eyes to block out the vision of death in front of her. This one Theron did not send back to Hades quickly. No, he slaughtered the beast one limb at a time, taking out on him every ounce of hatred and grief he had in him.

When it was over, when he was exhausted and dripping with a combination of his own sweat and blood and that of the daemon that lay mutilated in front of him, he rose and stared down at what he’d done.

Horrified, Casey slid the fingers covering her eyes open to stare at him, too afraid to move or speak for fear he’d turn his vengeance on her. But what she saw shocked her. Though the homicidal glint was gone from his eyes, there was not an inkling of remorse. She watched as another lone tear tracked down his cheek. Oblivious to it, he decapitated the daemon as he’d done the other.

And then, as if he’d finally realized something was on his face, he reached a grimy hand up to his cheek, wiped at the tear and stared at the liquid on his finger with a perplexed expression, as though he’d never cried before.

And Casey knew in that moment, he never had.

Her skin was cold all over as she blinked and came back to herself. She wasn’t in a dark forest surrounded by war, but in the same bed she’d fallen asleep in hours ago.

She stared at Theron, still asleep beside her, his hand clutched tightly in hers. And knew, without even asking, that what she’d just seen had been real. Just like the vision she’d had of the little girl in the middle of the village when she’d first arrived.

Okaaaaaaaaay. That little bit of news on top of everything else was enough to seriously wig her out. Heart pounding, she gently eased out from under his arm and slid out of bed. Though it was still dark, she had an uncontrollable urge to see the sun, to feel its warmth, to put the cold far, far behind her.

She crossed to the small porthole window and opened the curtains. The moon had set, and the first rays of dawn were already spilling over the horizon.

She took slow breaths, and when she felt better, looked back toward the bed.

How long had she been out? And when had Theron come to her room?

Her so-called hero had rolled to his back, one hand at his side, the other fanned across his broad, bare chest. He wore only low-riding black pants that showcased his hard abs and the thin line of dark hair that drew her attention downward. Looking up and away from that temptation, she focused on his muscular arms. In the dim light she could just make out the markings across the backs of his hands and remembered the show he’d put on in Nick’s office.

She quickly turned back to the window. Um. Okay. Yeah. Remembering
that
whole spectacle didn’t settle her nerves any either.

“It’s a three-hundred-foot drop.”

Her heart rate kicked up at the velvet sound of his voice, but she didn’t look back. He might be a sex god she hadn’t been able to get out of her head since their night together back at her house, but he was also the man…Argonaut…
whatever
…who’d kidnapped her. She wanted answers. And she wanted them now. “Excuse me?”

The bed creaked behind her. “Out the window. Three hundred feet. At least. I already looked. If you’re searching for an escape route, that’s not it.”

She flicked a look over her shoulder. “If I wanted to leave, you couldn’t stop me.”

“Who told you such a lie?”

She glared at him. His eyebrows lifted in challenge. Aggravated beyond belief, she finally dropped her arms and turned his way. “Why you pompous piece of—”

He chuckled as he swung his massive legs over the
side of the bed. “I see we have both feet back on solid ground. Your rest did you good.”

Her mouth snapped shut.

“I can also see your little brain’s filled to the brim. Go ahead and ask me whatever you want.”

Her “little brain” was nearly at a breaking point. “Are you not bothered at all by the fact you kidnapped me and destroyed my store? Not to mention taking advantage of me that night at my house when I was only trying to help you?”

He let out a weary sigh. “I didn’t kidnap you, I rescued you. And if it makes you feel any better, I regret that your store was destroyed. The less the humans in your town know of the daemons and our war, the safer they’ll be. And for the record, I wasn’t the one taking advantage the other night. I seem to remember someone else making the first move.”

Her cheeks heated. But just as quickly her temper reared. “ ‘Anything I want,’ ” she mocked.

A sheepish one-sided grin pulled at his mouth. “You remember that, hm?”

“Of course I remember it,” she snapped. “In fact, it’s a lot clearer now than it was then. You tricked me.”

He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees. “It’s called
élencho
. And it’s more of a mind-bending technique than a trick. Though as you’ve proved,
meli
, it doesn’t work so well on half-breeds.”

She ignored that fact because it seemed to be true and because it put the blame of what had happened between them back on her. “You say that word,
half-breed
, like it’s dirty.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“Then watch how you say it. And for the record, I think they prefer to be called Misos.”

He looked up at her without responding. And the hint of regret in his eyes softened her.

Dammit, she wanted to stay mad at him. But when he
gazed at her like that, all she could think about was the way he’d looked in the candlelight of her kitchen, the way he’d tasted and felt on her couch. The way she knew he could make her feel now if she crossed the floor right this minute.

“Is there something you want from me,
meli
?” he asked in a low voice.

Her eyes flicked up to his. And she saw her own desire mirrored in those pools of obsidian.

Sex as a distraction from all the crazy stuff happening had its advantages. But not with him. She’d learned her lesson where this hero was concerned.

“Not a single thing.”

He smiled then, as if he knew she was lying. “When you’re ready, just tell me.”

She glared at him again. “I don’t think so.”

A chuckle bubbled through him. “Oh,
meli
. I do like you. You weren’t nearly so spirited that night at your house.”

She sent him a bored look. “I was a little distracted. I thought you were dying. And what does that word mean? You keep using it.
Meli.
My grandmother used it now and then.”

“She did?”

She nodded as a thought occurred. “She told me once it was my mother’s nickname.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “It’s Argolean. Loosely translated, it means beloved.”

“Then how would my mother have known it?”

“Maybe it was a nickname from your father.”

She lifted her brow. “My father the king? Uh-huh. Right. So how does this work? There aren’t enough Argolean women in your world? The men have to come hunting for human women?”

He laughed again and ran a hand across the nape of his neck, very much amused at something she didn’t find the least bit funny. “No, there are plenty of females in our world. We call them
gynaíkes
.”

“That’s Greek.”

He nodded. “A lot of our words come from the Greek root. As for your father, I told you some of our people cross over, though it’s not encouraged.”

“You can’t stop them?”

“It’s not my job to stop them. Your father…liked to visit. He’s always been fascinated by humans.”

“But you’re not.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer.

The visions she’d glimpsed earlier flashed in her brain, but she knew instinctively, if she brought it up he wouldn’t talk about it. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what made him tick either.

She snorted and turned her attention back to the sunrise. “Then definitely don’t call me
meli
. We both know you don’t mean it.”

“Acacia—”

“And before I forget, just what do you think you’re doing in my bed?”

“Do you like having me in your bed?” he asked quietly.

A tingling ignited in Casey’s chest. She glanced briefly over her shoulder and regretted it immediately. The same carnal desire that was suddenly careening through her veins all over again was carved into each hollow and plane of his handsome face.

Oh, yeah, this guy was a sex god all right. And he was playing her good.

“I like your eyes on me,
meli
. It makes the blood pound in my veins. But more than your eyes, I would much rather have your hands caressing me the way they were that night on your couch.”

Her heart rate kicked up at the memory. Arousal colored her cheeks and spread warmth between her thighs. She sensed herself falling into the same trance she’d been in with him once before. The heat from his body, the scent of his skin, the sultry sound of his accent all coalesced to turn her to mush right in front of him.

He held out a hand, beckoning her forward. “Come here,
meli
. Let me remind you.”

Her gaze dropped to his hand, and she remembered the way he’d held his hand out to her in the store like that just yesterday. Then remembered the flash of uncertainty she’d seen in his eyes.