Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival) (17 page)

BOOK: Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival)
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Sandra shoved Roric’s shirt up, displaying his washboard abs and muscular pecs. “I can have sex in the physical realm too.” She scraped one pointy nail over a flat brown nipple. It puckered, but Roric didn’t flinch, didn’t groan. Sandra pouted, bringing attention to her shiny, red lips. “And there’s nothing I won’t do. Isn’t that right, Aimee?”

The scene from the carnival flashed into her brain. Sandra naked, entwined with three men. It had happened. What she’d seen had been real. The coffee she’d drunk burned in her belly as the memories of that erotic scene bombarded her.

“Aimee likes to watch,” Sandra confided mockingly to Roric. Reaching down, she slipped the two buttons of her jacket open. “She saw quite the show at the carnival last night. I had three hot, young studs at once.” She made a humming sound of pleasure. “All those hard cocks filling me. All that power to claim.” She shivered. “Lovely. Though I think we shocked poor, innocent Aimee.”

She drew the lapels back, revealing her large, naked breasts. “I hope she learned something and was able to give you some relief.” Stepping closer, she rubbed them against his chest. “Of course, it’s nothing like I can give you. Why don’t
we
give her something to look at?”

Roric did nothing to stop Sandra, and Aimee thought she might be sick. Perspiration dotted her forehead, and her breakfast churned in her stomach. She tried to keep her expression blank, but knew she’d failed when Sandra turned her head toward her and smiled.

Their whole friendship had been a lie, a ruse to insinuate her presence in Aimee’s life. Starved for human contact, Aimee had been an easy mark. What she’d thought was kindness had been nothing but manipulation. She felt stupid and used and dirty. Sandra wasn’t human. She was a demon—soulless, perverse and evil to her core.

Aimee didn’t dare look at Roric, didn’t want to see the desire, the lust burning in his eyes for another woman. Demon. Woman. Whatever the hell she was, Aimee didn’t want to watch her and Roric touching one another. She could still feel the heat of his hands on
her
body.

Nerve-endings tingled in remembrance and Aimee swallowed a groan. Chemistry was a bitch, and there was no doubt she still wanted Roric even now. But she was stronger than that. No way would she be a part of this. Whatever
this
was.

She opened her mouth to tell them to get a room, but no sound emerged. Roric was staring straight at her, not Sandra, his eyes blazing, but not with lust, with anger. Grabbing a hank of Sandra’s long, blonde hair in his fist, he tilted her head back. “Why are you here, demon spawn?”

Sandra just laughed and ran her hands over the hard planes of Roric’s chest. His grip was so tight, she had to be in pain, but she ignored it, seemed to enjoy it.

“I like it rough, big boy.” She hitched her leg over his hip. The movement shoved her short skirt up, revealing that she was wearing no underwear. She rubbed her bare sex against Roric’s thigh. “Mmm…that feels wonderful. I bet you could fuck all night long.”

Aimee couldn’t bear this any longer and started to turn away.

“Stay!” Roric’s command rang out, freezing her in place.

Sandra laughed again, her hips working frantically against Roric. “She can watch all she wants. I’ll spread her thighs and make her come if you want. A lot of men fantasize about watching two women get it on. I can make her like it.”

Aimee’s stomach did a somersault, and she swallowed hard to keep from retching. This was sick.

Roric forced Sandra to her knees, her hair still tangled in his left hand, his sword clutched in his right. Instead of acting subdued, Sandra seemed pleased with her new position. And Aimee knew why. It brought her face in line with the impressive bulge in Roric’s pants.

“Ooh, what do we have here? A present for me.” Sandra’s fingers went straight to the leather ties of Roric’s pants. He thrust her aside, sending her tumbling to the floor. She lay on her back, her legs sprawled wide, her ample breasts exposed. “We can have a quickie on the floor if you want. I’m game.”

Roric’s brought his blade forward in a flash and rested the tip at Sandra’s throat.

“No quickie?” Sandra sighed. “Okay, I’ll just give you the message.” Reaching between her thighs, she shoved two fingers inside her cunt and began to thrust them in and out. “But I need an orgasm first. You got me all worked up and then didn’t deliver. I wanted your long, hard sword inside me. The one in your pants, not the one in your hand.” Sandra laughed and groaned, her fingers working faster and faster.

Aimee could see the flood of cream on Sandra’s spread thighs. She couldn’t believe she was seeing this. It was like a bad porn movie or, at the very least, a very bizarre nightmare. It was so surreal she wasn’t certain she wasn’t dreaming, locked inside an endless nightmare. She looked to Roric for confirmation—of what she wasn’t sure. He was watching her, not Sandra. For some reason that reassured her on some level.

Not even when Sandra writhed on the floor, her fingers pumping in and out of her pussy, her breasts bouncing, did Roric look away. Sandra screamed her release, and the pungent scent of sex filled the air. Aimee wrinkled her nose, wanting to run to the kitchen for a can of disinfectant. She knew she’d have to scrub the floor for sure. Maybe even have it replaced.

As if he sensed what she was thinking, Roric gave her a curt nod before turning back to Sandra. She was still sprawled unashamedly on the floor, licking cream from her fingers. “Sure you don’t want some?” She offered herself as easily as though she’d offered someone a stick of gum or a mint.

“I’m certain.” Roric’s wry reply didn’t dent Sandra’s good humor.

“Your loss.” She rolled gracefully to her feet and made a show of tugging down her skirt and buttoning her jacket. “Either way, I’m out of this crappy little town in less than twenty-four hours.”

“The message,” Roric prompted.

Sandra snapped her fingers and a scroll appeared in her hand. With a quick flick of her wrists, she opened it. Aimee figured it was about three feet long and twelve inches wide. The thick, beige parchment with covered in calligraphy. Aimee couldn’t read the language, but it looked like some kind of ancient script.

“Hades, King of the Underworld, greatest of all the Olympians, sends his greetings,” Sandra began.

“Skip the pleasantries.” Roric fisted his free hand on his hip and glared at Sandra.

“Okay, but you’re no fun. I figured having sex after being cooped up for a few thousand years would mellow you out.”

Roric just glared at her.

Sandra shot Aimee a look of fake sympathy. “Guess you’re not that good in bed, sweetie.” She flipped a long lock of blonde hair over her shoulder, cleared her throat and continued. “Yadda, yadda. Okay, here we are. While the other gods from the Greek Parthenon are no longer worshipped, Hades’ power has grown legion. There’s no end of folks willing to pledge themselves to him in order to obtain wealth and power.”

“If that is the case, what does he want with the warriors of the Lady?”

Sandra shot him a playful pout. “I’m getting to that. Now where was I?”

“Hades is all powerful,” Aimee prompted, wanting this over as fast as possible. She had no idea how to get rid of Sandra unless she left on her own. None of her life experiences had given her any skills at banishing unwanted demons.

“Oh, yes. Because he’s generous, he wants to extend his hand in friendship. He’ll forgo claiming your soul if you’ll do one little thing for him.”

“And that would be?” Roric sounded almost bored with the entire proceedings. Aimee studied him carefully. His face could have been carved from stone. His lips were set in a thin, almost cruel line. His eyes were filled with the cunning patience of a predator.

Sandra shrugged as though it was of no importance. “He wants you and your friends to head up his legions so he can defeat Zeus and the rest of them once and for all.”

“Ah,” Roric drawled slowly. “Attacking the Lady, stripping of her of her power and imprisoning her weren’t enough. Now he turns on his kin, but they are still too much for him to handle.”

“It’s not like that,” Sandra assured him. “They’re weaklings. Hades just wants someone competent at the head of his armies. Everyone still talks about the war between the Lady of the Beasts and Hades.” Her gaze ran admiringly over Roric’s frame. “For a while there, no one knew who would win. Hades couldn’t break any of you.”

“Where is my Lady now?” There was pure steel in Roric’s voice now.

Sandra shrugged. “Hades set her free as part of the bargain. She told him how to free all of you, so he released her from the chains that held her all these years.”

“Where is she?” Roric repeated.

“In Hell, of course.” She rewound the scroll and tapped it against his chest. “If she can find her way out, she’s free to leave. Last I saw of the poor dear, she was stumbling around in the dark somewhere on the fifth level. Nasty demons there.”

Roric swung his sword out in an arc. Blood spurted from Sandra’s neck, but in a movement almost too fast for Aimee to see, the other woman managed to arch backward, barely avoiding losing her head.

Slapping her hand to her neck, she hissed. The human form seemed to dissolve around Sandra, melting away. In her place stood a six-foot demon covered in thick, leathery skin that was a mottled blue. The blonde hair slowly changed color until it was black as midnight. Her eyes blazed red, promising retribution. “You will pay for that, beast.”

A second sword appeared in Roric’s left hand and he went on the attack. The demon jumped aside, crashing into the coffee table and reducing it to rubble. The sofa went askew as the demon kicked it aside. Aimee shrieked as the creature hissed again, long fangs flashing beside a double row of teeth. How in the hell did you fight something like that?

Roric showed no such hesitation, launching himself at the demon. The creature shrieked as both blades cut deep. A black hole seemed to appear out of nowhere, filling the corner of the room. Thick, black smoke roiled outward.

Aimee slapped her hand over her nose and mouth and ran for the door to open it. The scent of sulfur and fire singed her nostrils. She could taste it on her tongue. It reminded her too much of the stench from her nightmares.

The demon stepped backward, disappearing into the void. The black hole closed in on itself, leaving the room reeking of burnt flesh and fear. Aimee stared at what was left of her living room. Everything would have to be replaced, including the floor, which had been scorched black where the hole had opened.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. “That was…” Aimee didn’t know quite what to say that wouldn’t sound totally crazy. All of this was insane.

“Are you all right?” Roric strode toward her, the two swords disappearing from his hands in a flash.

“I’m not sure.” It was suddenly all too much for her. Her vision dimmed and she shook her head to clear it. She sank to the floor beside the door, gulping in the clean, fresh air that flowed in from outside.

Roric crouched beside her, his bulk blocking most of the carnage behind him, but nothing could obliterate the stench from Hell.

Slowly, she raised her head and stared into a pair of concerned, pale blue eyes. “What are we going to do?”

“Whatever we have to,” came the grim reply.

 

Frustration clung to Roric, much like the lingering stink from the smoke. His reflexes were slower than they used to be. He should have been able to destroy the succubus with little problem. He also should have gotten more answers out of her. His attention had been fractured between the demon and Aimee.

He’d sensed her feelings of betrayal when she discovered exactly what her friend was. Roric had sensed Aimee’s loneliness. Finding out she’d been used had to hurt.

Then there had been the way she’d reacted when the succubus had tried to tempt him physically. Aimee hadn’t liked that at all. He could have easily reassured her that not even the most skilled sex demon could compare to her natural loveliness, but he didn’t want Sandra or, in turn, Hades to have that kind of information. They would use it against him in a heartbeat.

Instead, he’d had to watch Aimee withdraw further from him with each passing second. Not physically. After all, there was really nowhere for her to run. But mentally and emotionally, he’d felt her slam the door between them, felt her putting up inner walls to protect herself. The beast within him had roared in displeasure. Roric had barely refrained from doing the same. He worried about what the little human thought of it all.

Which made no sense at all. He’d never worried about a human woman before. His duty was clear. He had to stay alive until midnight tonight. Once the curse was broken, he was free from Hades forever. After that, he had to find a way to release his fellow warriors and free the Lady from Hell. There was no room in his life for Aimee and the unsettling feelings she stirred within him.

Sitting on the floor, covered in black soot and sweat, she should have looked unattractive, but instead, she was beautiful to him. Roric’s cock was as hard as stone. Even now, he wanted to take her to the bare floor and bury himself in her heat until the thousands of years of loneliness were nothing but a distant memory.

He gritted his teeth, ignoring the desire clawing at his insides. The animal within him growled and paced. The tiger recognized its mate and had no problem letting him know it wasn’t pleased with him.

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