Seduced by Danger

by Stephanie Julian

  “Michael!” She shook him, trying to get his attention, to make his eyes focus, to draw away some of the fear she saw etched onto his face. “Michael, it’s me. It’s Cara.”

  He struggled harder then, his arms breaking her hold on him and shoving her away from the bed. Cara fell to the floor, hard enough knock the wind from her lungs.

  She sat on the floor and gasped for air just long enough to gain her bearings then scrambled to her feet.

  And screamed, just a short note of terror before she could cut it off, when a blue-skinned Tukhulkha demon appeared on the other side of the bed.

  Cara froze as the minion of Charun, God of Aitás, the Etruscan Underworld, turned its dark gaze on her then looked around the rest of the room. Even though Cara had never seen a Tukhulkha demon in person before, she knew exactly what this monster, with its humanoid body and birdlike facial features, could do. The horror stories associated with the demons gave Etruscan children nightmares.

  She expected it to attack right away but it continued to gaze around the room. When its gaze landed on Hinthial, its head tilted and beady eyes narrowed. Large black wings appeared and flapped behind its shoulders as its arms crossed over its chest.

  “Whoa,” it said. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Lady. Though when someone started messing around with this one’s death, I guess I should have realized.”

  Though shorter by inches than the demon, Hinthial had the whole regal thing going for her and managed to make the demon appear smaller somehow. “How are you, Nathum? And what are you doing here?”

  “What? You pull a soul back from Aitás and don’t expect the boss to get curious?” The demon snorted, the sound giving Cara the creeps as she watched the exchange. “He sent me to check.”

  The demon gazed with intense concentration at Michael, who appeared to be breathing regularly. His skin tone was becoming more normal by the second though he still seemed to be unconscious.

  And the demon was way too close to the bed for Cara’s piece of mind.

  “The soul was still in my realm,” Hinthial said. “Tell Charun I merely righted a wrong. This one isn’t his yet.”

  The demon cocked its head again the other way, looking more like a bird than ever. “I didn’t realize you made a habit of interfering with lives like this.”

  Hinthial’s chin lifted a fraction of an inch. “There’s much you don’t know about me.”

  Nathum’s gaze darted to Sal, standing next to Hinthial, then to Cara. Her heart tried to beat itself out of her chest but she met the demon’s black eyes and didn’t flinch. Then its gaze dropped to Michael.

  “Certainly didn’t know you were cavorting with the Mal.”

  “I’m not cavorting.” Hinthial’s brows lifted and the demon immediately dropped its gaze. “Have you satisfied your curiosity, Nathum? If so then we should leave. I’m sure you wouldn’t want Charun to believe you were here cavorting as well.”

  Hinthial turned to Sal, who bowed low and deep. “Thank you again for your assistance, Lady.”

  “You are welcome, Salvatorus,” Hinthial replied with a cold tone that made Cara shiver. The goddess had sounded so warm earlier. So normal. Now she was acting exactly like Cara thought a goddess would act. Haughty. Supreme. Unfeeling.

  Cara looked back at the demon, who nodded its head and disappeared. Just as Hinthial did milliseconds later.

  Cara heard Sal sigh, long and deep, but she couldn’t formulate a single question. Michael consumed her entire attention.

  His chest rose up and down in steady rhythm, and when she moved closer and put her hand against his forehead, she thought his temperature seemed almost normal. Maybe a little cold still but that was to be expected.

  He’d been dead for several minutes.

  And she had so many questions crowding her head, she had to shake it to make them come into some order. “Sal, what happened?”

  Behind her, she heard Sal opening and closing drawers before he opened the door to her small closet. When she turned, still holding tightly to Michael’s hand, she saw Sal had her duffel bag in one hand.

  “I need to get Michael back to my place, Cara. It’s the only place he’ll be safe until he recovers. And he can’t stay here. Selvans is going to have my ass in a sling over this as it is.”

  Selvans, Etruscan God of the Forest, gave his particular protection to this enclave. Cara had yet to meet him but it was never good to piss off a god. “I’m sorry, Sal. I never meant to get you in trouble. I didn’t know Michael was coming. But I’m not sorry he’s here.”

  Her emotions seesawed between anger at the fact that she’d almost lost him, to fear for her friends if any of the Mal discovered their hidden village, to joy that he was actually here. After all this time, he’d come back to her.

  When he’d left more than a year ago, he’d told her he was going to make it safe for her and Aron to live. To be able to walk down a street and not have to look over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her. To be free of the Mal and never worry about anyone kidnapping her and making her a sex slave again.

  Though he’d never said, she knew he was going to kill the men who’d kept her and her sister locked away.

  She let her gaze run over his body. Sal must have lit several candles around the room, which she hadn’t noticed until now. That dim glow allowed her to see Michael’s body in all its masculine glory. He stood just under six feet and was as solidly built as any professional athlete, maybe more so. Muscles rippled under his sleek, tanned skin, from his strong legs to his six-pack abs to his broad shoulders and bulging arms. She thought he might even have gained more muscles since she’d last seen him.

  She knew he’d gained more scars.

  Two jagged slashes, already white with age, crossed his abdomen. His arms had several smaller scars and his left leg bore a puckered circular mark that looked like a puncture wound.

  He’d had none of those when he’d left.

  His upper lip had been split recently and his left eye sported a healing shiner.

  She drew in a deep breath, trying to stave off tears.

  “Cara, where’s Aron?”

  Sal’s mention of her son drew her attention as nothing else could have. “He’s spending the night with Jo and the twins.”

  Sal nodded, though she couldn’t tell why. “How about if I go get him while you pack? I want to be out of here before daybreak.”

  With a sigh, Cara nodded, knowing what had happened here tonight made it impossible for them to stay. She didn’t want to put her friends in danger. And she couldn’t let Sal take Michael without her.

  And she couldn’t leave her son here, even though this was the safest place for him.

  “Okay, Sal. I’ll pack.”

  * * * * *

  Michael fought out of the depths of sleep, knowing something had happened.

  His entire body ached as if he’d been in a fight.

  He forced his eyes open then shut them tight again. The light burned into his retinas and shot daggers into his brain.

  He bit back a groan and gave himself a minute before he tried again. He opened his eyes slowly this time, letting them get used to the light. It wasn’t as bright as he’d thought at first, more like filtered sunshine.

  When he could finally focus, he let his gaze travel around the bedroom that seemed vaguely familiar. The bed was comfortable, the walls a calming shade of dark tan and the woman asleep in the chair by the bed made him break out in a cold sweat.

  Cara. Gods, she was beautiful but she looked exhausted. Possibly even more so than when he’d seen her…last night?

  He lay there without moving, didn’t want to wake her. And he needed to think.

  What was the last thing he remembered?

  He remembered his last kill, the second-to-last man on his list. The man who’d told him where to find his final target. Since that target was on the east coast, he remembered he’d decided he had to see Cara and Aron just one more time. Just to see for himself that
they were safe.

  But he’d screwed up. One look at her beautiful face and he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her.

  They’d had incredible sex and then… What?

  He lifted his arm to prop himself up and froze when his muscles screamed in pain, an involuntary groan breaking through his tight lips.

  Vaffanculo, he hurt everywhere.

  Cara shifted in the chair and opened her eyes, immediately searching for his. When she saw his were open, her mouth started to tremble and he knew she was about to cry.

  “Cara.” Damn, his voice was shot, nothing more than a broken whisper. It even hurt to speak.

  She shot out of the chair to lay her fingers across his lips. “Don’t try to talk. You’re still so weak. Damn you, Michael. You nearly died. Actually, you did die. How do you feel? Oh wait. Don’t answer that. I can see you feel like shit. But knowing you, you won’t admit it anyway.”

  He frowned and his face actually hurt. “I died?”

  “Yes, you stupid man, you did.” Cara brushed her fingers under eyes, wiping away tears. He wanted to do it for her but he didn’t think he could move without causing massive pain throughout his body. “Damn it, I swore I wasn’t going to cry.”

  And if she did, he’d probably pass out from pain trying to comfort her. “Then don’t. Tell me what happened. Cara—”

  “Oh no.” She waved one finger in front of his face. “Don’t you ‘Cara’ me like that. Damn you, Michael, I am so pissed at you.”

  His eyebrows flew up. That didn’t sound anything like the woman he’d lived with for two years before he’d left her in the care of her sister Lacey and Sal. When he’d left to hunt down a list of five men.

  That woman had never raised her voice. She’d been easily startled, wept at the drop of a hat and never got angry.

  This woman was pissed.

  She stood next to the bed with her hands on her hips, her mouth pursed and angry little vees between her eyes.

  She looked…beautiful. So gorgeous he wanted to grab her and kiss her. Which wasn’t at all like him.

  Even when they’d been together, he’d kept himself apart. He’d given her his body, his desire, his protection. He’d given her everything she could physically need. But he’d never let her see just how much he needed her. How much he cared for her. For her or Aron.

  Because if he had, if he’d opened his heart to her, he never would have been able to leave.

  And it was his job, his duty, to make the world safe for her and Aron.

  He took a breath before he spoke again. “And you have good reason to be angry with me.” He paused to breathe through the painful muscle spasms in his chest. “But could you please tell me what happened…last night?”

  “No, it wasn’t last night. It was two,” she held up her middle and index fingers and thrust them close to his face, “nights ago. And you were dead, Michael. Your heart stopped. You weren’t breathing. If Sal and… If Sal hadn’t come, you would have been lost to me forever.”

  “Sal saved me?”

  Her mouth twisted into another frown. “Not directly, no.”

  He moved his arms to try to sit up again, this time anticipating the pain and forcing his way through it. He managed to prop himself up just a little farther on the pillows so he wasn’t flat on his back. By the time he was done, spots floated in front of his eyes and nausea rocked his stomach.

  “Damn it, stay down.” She laid her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t make me tie you to the bed.”

  The shocking image of him, flat on his back, arms and legs tethered to the four posts of the bed, and her riding him, made hot blood pump through his body straight to his cock. Surprisingly, that didn’t hurt at all.

  He opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. That image…

  Cara moved, refocusing his attention as she crossed her arms under her breasts. “Tell me about the spell, Michael.”

  Shit. “I will. But first…is Aron here?”

  Her expression softened at their son’s name. “Of course he is.”

  The words flew from his lips before he could catch them back. “Can I see him?”

  The tears were back in her eyes. “He doesn’t know you’re here. I didn’t know…didn’t want him…” She took a deep breath, visibly straightening her spine. “If you’re planning to turn around and leave in a few days, I don’t want him to be hurt.”

  His chest contracted with a pain that wasn’t entirely physical.

  When he’d left them before, he’d felt like his heart was being torn out of his chest. This was just as bad.

  His son was close enough for him to touch and he shouldn’t hold him, shouldn’t pick him up and lay his cheek against the boy’s silky hair.

  “Oh Michael.” Cara cupped his cheek in her hand. “I’m not saying you can’t see him. I would never keep Aron from you.”

  He knew that. But he also knew she was right. He’d be leaving again. As soon as he could. There was one more name on his list. And when he crossed off that name, Cara, her sister Lacey, and most importantly, Aron would be safe.

  No, he shouldn’t see Aron, at least not while the boy was awake or could see him.

  He changed the subject. “How’s Lacey?”

  For a second, he didn’t think Cara was going to let him get away with it. Then she sighed. “Lacey’s fine. She and Teo run the bar and they visit me and Aron several times a week.”

  Lacey and her mate, Teodoro de Feo, had been instrumental in saving Cara and Aron from an attack last year by men who’d wanted to retrieve the twin sisters. Luckily Teo and Sal had arrived and together they’d killed all of the men before they’d been able to report back to their leaders.

  Of the five men who had run the secret operation in New York City that had kept the sisters as sex slaves, only one man had escaped Michael so far.

  Franklin Thomas Bennett Junior.

  To the eteri, Frank Bennett was the mild-mannered owner of a small but profitable string of delis in the tri-state area. He’d inherited the business from his late father, who’d also passed on his ties to the Mal. At best, Frank Senior had been a Mal team player, content to wash money from other Mal businesses, some legal, some not.

  Frank Junior had higher aspirations, enough funds to make them reality and the vision to see them through. He’d been the one to discover the existence of the sisters, hidden by their parents in northern Maine, one of the states with the least number of Enu or Fata in residence.

  How Frank had found the sisters, Michael didn’t know. What he did know was that Frank had been the mastermind behind their kidnapping and Michael was going to make him pay.

  “Michael?”

  Cara stared at him, her expression a mix of fear, exasperation and stress.

  He wouldn’t be happy until he wiped that look from her face forever. “I got four, Cara. I only need one more.”

  Cara’s eyes widened and she drew in a short, sharp breath.

  Now she knew for certain where the scars had come from. He’d killed four of the men who’d made her and her sister’s life a living hell for so many years.

  A flash of fierce happiness lit through her. The man she loved had killed four fiends to avenge her. In the eteri world, it wouldn’t be politically correct to be happy about murder. In hers, it felt just right.

  “Who?” she asked.

  Michael’s dark eyes went hard and cold. “Only Bennett’s left. And I know where he is.”

  Easing onto the bed beside him, Cara laid her hand on his chest so he wouldn’t try to get up again. Sal had said he’d probably be pretty sore for days after he woke and he shouldn’t move around much.

  “How did you get to the other four? Do you have help?”

  “No, I’ve been working alone but I made a deal for a spell with a strega—”

  “Yes, tell me about that spell, Michael,” she interrupted. “Did you know you were dying?”

  His silence was answer enough.
<
br />   Her anger returned, a hot burst that flashed through her, making her blood boil. And making her libido kick in.

  Since they’d had sex two nights ago, she thought about sex more in one hour than she had in the entire past year. With an effort, she pushed back the heat and tried to concentrate on getting answers.

  “Okay,” she said, when he still didn’t say anything. “Then tell me what you’ve been doing since you left us. Spit it out, Michael. I need to know.”

  She could tell he thought this was the easier explanation, that she’d only ask what he wanted her to ask. Before Aron, before he’d left her, she would have let it go. But raising a child on her own had quickly given her the backbone she used to lack.

  She’d get back to that first question. And he would answer it.

  “When I left,” Michael said, “I contacted someone I’d worked with before, someone I knew would believe that I wanted to come back to my old job.”

  Cara knew Michael had been making his way up the Mal ladder when they’d first met six years ago.

  After they’d escaped, he’d told how he’d been transferred to New York from Miami to work in one of the Mal’s import operations. How he had a way of working with numbers, making them do exactly what he wanted them to do.

  All his life, he’d been raised to believe he would work for the Mal, to put their interests ahead of everything else, subjugate his wants and needs to the Mal. He’d known no other way of life.

  Until they’d met.

  And then he’d thrown it all away for her and their son.

  “I told Roger I’d do whatever it took, whatever punishment they wanted to give me,” Michael continued. “I told him I’d fallen for a woman, but that she’d died and I went a little crazy afterward. But I was better now and I was ready to return.”

  Michael’s sneer made her shiver. He’d been a hard man before. Now he looked like a man who killed for a living.

  For some reason, that only made her want him more.

  “I managed to get Roger to meet me alone in his office in New York. And then I made him tell me what I wanted. It only took a half hour and then I put him out of his misery.”

  He stared at her, hard, as if waiting for some adverse reaction to the fact that he’d killed a Mal. Wasn’t going to happen. They deserved whatever Michael had done to them. Especially if it kept her son safe.