Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival) (16 page)

He ran his hand over the back of the chair, tracing the carving in the wood with his fingers, before he pulled it out and sat. Sitting at the head of the table like he was, she had a perfect view of him. She waited until he was comfortable before she began to cook. “I’m making an omelet. It that okay?” She wasn’t sure what he was used to eating, but figured eggs were pretty basic.

“Whatever you make is fine.”

He didn’t exactly sound enthused, but he didn’t sound like he wasn’t looking forward to it either. Shrugging, Aimee cracked eggs, chopped and mixed. The coffeepot gurgled and sputtered as it brewed. The egg mixture sizzled when she dropped it into the large, hot frying pan.

Roric stared down at the surface of the table, seemingly lost in thought. Maybe in memories. She wasn’t certain. He was as still as a statue. She narrowed her eyes, but she couldn’t even see his chest rising and falling as he breathed. The stillness surrounding him was almost frightening. He’d been locked in his tiger form for so long, she wondered if being still had become second nature to him or if he’d always been this way.

She plugged in the four-slice toaster and hauled down what remained of her loaf of bread from the cupboard. There were four slices left, not including crust. Just enough for breakfast. She popped the bread into the slots and pushed down the levers.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she watched Roric, wondering if she should say or do something. Suddenly, he began to speak, his voice low and deep, yet she heard every word and the underlying despair that accompanied them.

“Our Lady was no threat to the Greek gods. All she wanted was to be left alone. Yet Hades and his demons attacked without provocation. Their sheer numbers overwhelmed us. In years gone by, the Lady would have had more than enough power to ward off such an attack. But with the rise of the Olympians, the people no longer worshipped her. A deity gains power from being worshipped, so Hades was more powerful than her.”

Not wanting to interrupt his tale, Aimee folded the omelet and let it continue cooking. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought about Roric, his six warrior friends and the Lady being overwhelmed by evil demons.

“The fight raged for weeks. Months. I’m not quite sure. Time lost all meaning. We were losing. The end was almost upon us. Sensing that, the Lady used the last of her power to protect us.” He thumped his chest with his fist, the sudden violence startling. “Us. Her warriors who failed to protect her.”

His anguish was a living, breathing thing. Aimee wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him and offer comfort. But she knew he’d see it as pity and would reject any sign of what he thought of as sympathy.

The toaster chose that moment to pop. She grabbed the bread and spread butter over each slice. She split the omelet in half and put a section on each plate next to the toast.

Roric was still as stone, head bowed, lost in another time and place. “I wasn’t certain she was still alive until I saw her in your picture.”

Aimee grabbed both plates and carried them to the table. She placed one in front of Roric and the other one in front of the chair to his left. She went back to the counter and poured two mugs of coffee and dug some cutlery out of the drawer. Juggling all of it, she went back to the table.

She made another trip to the refrigerator for a bottle of strawberry jam and a carton of milk. She didn’t use it in her coffee, but Roric might like it. When everything was on the table, she sat next to him. “Eat, you’ll feel better.”

The omelet looked delicious, but she needed caffeine first. Aimee added two spoonfuls of sugar to her coffee and stirred before taking a sip. It tasted like manna from the gods, and the only right way to start any day.

As she sipped, Aimee thought about everything Roric had told her. One question kept coming back to her time and time again. “Why now?”

Roric hadn’t made any move to eat, but he raised his head at her question. “Why what?”

She picked up her fork and pointed it at him. “Why now? Why have all of you been released in the past few decades. After all this time, what does it mean? Is the curse getting weaker? Is this just part of it? What does Hades want with you?”

“He wants to kill us all and take our souls.”

Aimee shook her head. “Too easy. If that were all he wanted, he’d have already done so. We were totally surrounded by his demons at the carnival. Plus, he called me the lady of the beast. One beast. Obviously, he meant you. We both know I’m tied up with this somehow.”

Roric cocked his head to one side. She could almost see the wheels in his mind turning. He looked at the fork in her hand and picked up his own. It struck her then that he’d never used one. Back in ancient times, people used their fingers, carved spoons and forged knives to eat. For all she knew, Roric had hunted and eaten in his animal form, bypassing any need for utensils altogether.

Shaking her head at her wayward thoughts, she went back to her earlier point. “Then there’s the fact that you’re all being released one at a time and by different women. There has to be some reason for that.”

“I know.” His frustration was palpable. “All of us can communicate to some degree while we were imprisoned on the carousel, but it’s mostly images and emotions. None of us has been able to reach those already released.”

“That would be the serpent, phoenix and jaguar.”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Mordecai, Phoenix and Stavros. We all hoped that one of them would be able to communicate with us, to contact us somehow and let us know what is going on.” He picked up the mug, took a sip of the coffee and grimaced before putting it back on the table.

“If you don’t like the coffee, you can add sugar or milk.” She pushed both toward him. He shook his head. Coffee wasn’t for everyone, and not many people liked it at first taste. It was an acquired addiction.

Roric picked up a piece of toast and tore a corner off with his sharp, white teeth. He chewed and swallowed. It wasn’t fair. The man looked sexy even when eating.

Roric placed the rest of his bread back on the side of his plate. “I can only assume they are dead, their souls now in Hades’ possession.”

“Maybe.” Aimee chewed on a piece of toast, her mind working frantically. “Maybe they can’t talk to you. Maybe that’s part of the curse.”

“Perhaps.” She could tell from the way he spoke he wanted to believe his comrades were alive but didn’t hold out much hope.

“When I visited Hell in my dream, it seemed as though Hades wanted something. He told me not to disappoint him. I’ve already released you from your animal form. If there wasn’t more to it than that, why haven’t you already been attacked by demons?” It made a twisted kind of sense to Aimee. They needed more facts, but there was nowhere to go to get them.

The sound of a knock echoed down the hallway. Aimee startled, her heart racing, but then common sense kicked in and she began to relax. She didn’t think demons would bother to knock. Pushing back her chair, she headed out of the kitchen. Roric was already on his feet beside her, a four-foot steel sword grasped in his right hand. She blinked, not believing her eyes. “Where the heck did that come from?”

“My power,” he reminded her. “This sword has been mine since the beginning of time. I can bring it forth at will.”

She stared at the long, lethal weapon. It had appeared out of nowhere. Handy skill to have, all things considered.

Somewhere in her mind, she knew that she should be freaked out by this latest show of paranormal power, but in another part of her mind, it all made a warped kind of sense. Which only proved just how weird she truly was.

A second, heavier knock landed on the front door.

“Someone is at the door.” She pointed out the obvious. “Wait here.”

Roric stepped in front of her. “I must protect you.”

Aimee felt her heart began to swell. He must feel something for her, something beyond physical attraction. Maybe he felt the same connection toward her as she did toward him.

“Until we know your part in this, you must be kept safe.”

“Of course,” she muttered as she hurried toward the door, Roric by her side. She was a means to an end. Nothing more. “Wouldn’t want me to be inconveniently killed until we know what you need from me.”

Roric shot her a dark glance, but said nothing.

Aimee peeked out the long, narrow window alongside the door and sighed with relief. “You can relax. It’s my friend, Sandra. She probably came to find out why I ditched her at the carnival last night.”

Roric nodded and took a step back, but he didn’t lower his weapon. At least he wouldn’t be visible from the door when she opened it. She didn’t think it would be easy to explain away a six-and-a-half-foot man standing in her foyer holding a very large, sharp sword.

Aimee figured the situation was as good as it was going to get. She unlocked the door and opened it. Sandra looked beautiful, as always, in a short red skirt, topped with a blazer in the same color that hugged her ample breasts and displayed her cleavage to its best advantage. It was impossible to tell if she was wearing anything under the tight-fitting jacket. Five-inch stilettos, also in flaming red, and fishnet stockings completed her ensemble.

“Sandra. I was going to call you.”

Her friend put her hand on the door and tried to push her way into the house, her blood-red nails curling inward and gouging the wood. “Where is he?”

Chapter Ten

Aimee sputtered, shocked by her friend’s aggressive actions. Sandra was always laid back and cool, never showing any sign of impatience. Not until this moment.

“Who?” she asked, striving for complete innocence in her tone.

Aimee stood in the entry, blocking it. There was no way Sandra could know about Roric. It was impossible. As much as she knew she owed Sandra an explanation for disappearing on her last night, she didn’t want her friend inside her house, not with Roric standing just behind her. Her instincts were to protect him at all costs.

Sandra’s lips twisted upward in a parody of a smile. It didn’t look pleasant. Her eyes narrowed and darkened with anger. “Don’t play games with me, little girl. I’ve truly been in hell these past months, trapped in this podunk town, waiting for one of the immortals to be set free.”

She shoved against Aimee’s shoulder, knocking her aside. Only Roric’s hand on her back kept her upright. Sandra wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to her now that she was inside. All her attention was centered on Roric.

Sandra’s eyes grew slumberous as she licked her glossy red lips. “Well, hello,” she all but purred. Aimee wanted to scratch her eyes out.
Jealou
s! She was jealous of her friend, which was crazy. Sandra was obviously part of this madness.

“What do you mean,
trapped
here?” Aimee grabbed her friend’s arm to get her attention.

Sandra jerked away, shooting a look of pure disdain at Aimee. “Just what I said. The big guy himself gave me this assignment after he got into your dreams and realized you might be one of the
chosen ones
.” She sneered as she said the final two words. “He wanted one of us to make contact with you, figured it might make things go easier and help us keep an eye on the situation. He assures me this assignment is a reward for all my loyal service. Personally, I viewed it as a cruel and unusual punishment until now.”

A long, sharp blade slid between them and Aimee gasped, taking a step back away from Roric’s sword. Sandra simply laughed, and the low, seductive sound grated against Aimee’s nerves. She gritted her teeth to keep from slapping the other woman. She’d never felt so violent toward someone in her entire life.

“Why are you here, demon?” Roric demanded.

Demon
! Aimee took a real good look at Sandra. How had she referred to herself? One of
us
. That the big guy himself had sent her? Sandra was one of Hades’ minions.

Sandra’s smile grew sly, more inviting. Her eyes seemed to suddenly glow with red, a sickening reminder of Aimee’s nightmares.

“Not just any demon.” Sandra sauntered toward Roric, working her hips back and forth in a sensual motion. He slowly lowered the blade to his side, one corner of his mouth turning upward in a grin. Aimee wanted to smack it off his face. She couldn’t believe he was falling for this crap.

“Succubus?” He raised one eyebrow in question as he ran his gaze over Sandra’s impressive curves.

“A sex demon,” Aimee blurted out. She couldn’t believe this. Her only friend in the town was a succubus. Well, ex-friend now.

Sandra laughed again, but to Aimee’s ears the sound was like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Half succubus.” She ran one stylish red nail down the center of Roric’s chest. “I don’t just inhabit men’s dreams and drain them of their life-force.” She pushed her finger up under his shirt and circled his navel slowly with the red tip. “Although that’s fun.” She laughed again.

“What else do you do?” Roric sounded interested. Too interested for Aimee’s liking.

She shook herself. What did she care? This had nothing to do with her anyway. So, they had sex last night. He didn’t owe her any explanations, hadn’t made any promises. It had been hot, sweaty sex. Nothing more.

Aimee just wished she believed that. She, at least, had felt some kind of connection between them. But obviously, it was one-sided. Roric was looking at Sandra as if he could just eat her up with one bite. And why not? Sandra was every man’s fantasy come to life.