Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival)

by N. J. Walters

  Aimee sighed and stepped away, wrapping her arms around herself. His arms felt bereft without her. Yet he let her go, not reaching for her as he longed to do.

  “As I was finishing getting dressed after getting cleaned up, a man appeared out of nowhere.” She pointed to a spot just inside the door before tucking her hand away once again.

  “A demon?” Roric strode to the area, hands stretched out, trying to feel the residual energy. Splaying his fingers wide, he ran his hands up and down the space in front of the wall. Nothing. He frowned and did it again. There should be some taint of evil there, but if it was there, it was masked. He couldn’t find it.

  “No.”

  He whirled back around. Aimee had moved to the end of the bed and was staring down at the sheets. “Who then?”

  She shook her head, not answering. As he watched, she started to sit on the mattress, changed her mind and went to the window instead, staring out into the sunlight. “It looks like a beautiful day. I’d like to go out and feel the sunshine against my face.”

  Roric was worried now. Had this creature done something to her? Something he couldn’t see? Not all injuries were physical. In some ways, physical injuries were easier to deal with than those of a mental or emotional nature. Crossing the space between them, he clasped her shoulders gently and turned her to face him. “I’ll take you outside,” he promised. He kept his tone low and unthreatening.

  She patted his hand where it rested on her right shoulder. “I’m okay.” At his skeptical look, she shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “It’s just that you’re not going to believe what I have to tell you.”

  “I will,” he promised. And he realized that he meant it. He trusted Aimee. The only others he’d trusted on such a gut level were the Lady herself and his fellow warriors—Marko, Arand, Leander, Phoenix, Mordecai and Stavros. “Tell me.”

  She glanced out the window. A sense of sadness surrounded her. Roric wanted to make it disappear but knew that was impossible. Her life path was irrevocably tied to his now. There was no going back. Not for either of them.

  “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be able to change the past?” There was a note of wistfulness in her voice that touched a part of him he’d thought frozen by anger and time.

  Hardening himself, he ignored the ache in his heart. As a result, his answer was brusque, almost cold. “No. There is no going back, only going forward.”

  Turning away, she rested her forehead against the pane of glass and peered out the window. Roric looked over the top of her head, seeing what she was seeing. The mountains stood in the distance—majestic, unyielding, eternal. Below them was a sea of color. Autumn had spread its cloak over the land, coating it in brilliant yellows, reds and oranges mixed with the browns and greens of the forest. Even for an eternal warrior who’d lived for longer than mankind, it was awe-inspiring.

  “I know you can’t go back.” She raised her hand and laid it flat against the pane of glass. “But do you ever think about it. About what if?”

  He had no idea what point she was trying to make. He was a warrior. He dealt with what was, not what might be. “No. There is no point. It clouds the issue and makes you weak.”

  Aimee sighed and her breath fogged slightly against the glass. “It makes you human.” She clenched her fingers into a fist. “I grew up playing in these mountains. My daddy would always be working out around the yard, chopping wood or fixing something in his shed. Momma would be in the kitchen cooking supper or baking a pie. I miss them.”

  The pain in her voice nearly brought Roric to his knees. He could feel her sadness like a living, breathing entity. The connection he shared with Aimee was unlike anything he’d experienced in his long life. Not even with the Lady did he feel such a bond.

  That thought brought him up short. That was blasphemy. He could not allow himself to be swayed from his duty.

  “He offered to go back in time and stop the accident from happening.” She gazed out over the land. “All I had to do to make it happen was to betray you.”

  Roric stiffened. This wasn’t good. The devil’s minions were tempting Aimee with what she most wanted. He was nothing to her. Just a man, an immortal being who’d turned her life upside down. “What did you tell him?”

  She laughed, but it was a sad sound. Turning, she stared up at him, her green eyes dark with pain. “What do you think I said?” she countered.

  He wanted to say with conviction that she’d declined, but he couldn’t be certain. Maybe she was telling him this to throw him off, only to betray him when the time was right. Roric decided he would be honest with her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand, stopping him.

  “No, don’t tell me. I can see the answer in your eyes. You expect me to betray you.”

  He frowned. “I do trust you.” Deep in his gut he did. “But that doesn’t mean that the devil can’t tempt you. Stronger people than yourself have succumbed to the lure of false promises.”

  A tinge of red flowed up her cheeks, driving away the paleness from her skin. Roric knew it was due to anger, but it was very similar to the flush her face took on during sex. His body responded immediately, muscles tightening, cock growing and thickening.

  “Thank you very much,” she replied tartly. She shoved by him and strode toward the door. “I said no, if you’re interested,” she tossed over her shoulder as she left the room.

  Roric followed her as she hurried down the stairs. Ignoring the scorched and blackened living area, she entered the kitchen and went straight to the back door. She flung it open and stepped out onto the covered back deck that ran the width of the house.

  Aimee walked to the corner and leaned against a thick post. “Of course, I could be lying to you.” Her words were faint, but he heard them all the same.

  He might be a fool, but he couldn’t leave things like this between them. The sun was bright, but the air was crisp. “You should have on a sweater or a coat,” he muttered.

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You think I’m going to betray you to Hades himself, but you’re worried I’m not wearing a coat?”

  Put like that, it did sound silly. Still, Roric didn’t back down. “I don’t want you getting ill.”

  “Certainly not. I might not be as useful to you if that happened.”

  “Stop it.” He grabbed her upper arms and yanked her to him. Not giving her a chance to refuse him, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with all the pent-up frustration, anger and lust that coursed through his veins. He wanted her to respond to him, needed her to respond. He had to feel the pulse of her passion mixing with his.

  Even though he’d just had her, he wanted her again. He plundered her mouth, using his tongue to taste every inch of the warm cavern. She tasted like mint and that vile coffee she loved so well. He softened the caress when her lips softened beneath his and her tongue stroked over his.

  Shuddering, he ended the passionate kiss. The passion between them was real, not manufactured by a curse or spell or magic of any sort. Yet it was a powerful magic in and of itself.

  Aimee’s lips were wet and plump, and her eyes had taken on a dazed look. Satisfaction filled him. This was truth. This wasn’t a lie, no matter what else might happen.

  The sensual glow faded slowly from her face, and Aimee swore under her breath. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed. Roric simply locked his hands behind her back, keeping her exactly where he wanted her—close to him.

  His entire body was vibrating, his penis erect, straining to be released. Roric had no plans to give in to the sexual demands of his body, but they made him feel alive. And that was a sensation to savor.

  Aimee huffed and pushed again, but he didn’t relent. She glared at him. “What is it about you guys that makes you think you can take what you want?”

  Everything inside Roric turned to ice. “What did the demon do to you?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “I already told you, he wasn’t a demon. But he grabbed me and kissed
me, like you just did.”

  Jealousy snaked through Roric, a hot whip that flayed his skin from the inside out. Every muscle in his body coiled for action. He’d kill the other creature, even if he had to follow it to the depths of Hell. The creature had dared to touch his woman.

  Roric knew his thoughts were totally irrational, but he didn’t care. There was no fighting the primal urges flowing through him. He could feel the tiger pacing within the confines of his mind, roaring with anger, drowning out all rational thought. The only thing that was certain was that whoever had touched Aimee had to die.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Aimee had her hands pressed against his cheeks. He could see the concern in her eyes.

  A low growl escaped from his throat. “Who is he? Did he give you a name?

  She nodded and slowly lowered her hands back down by her sides. Her expression went blank. “He did.”

  “Who?” His voice was little more than a guttural snarl. He’d run out of patience.

  She swallowed hard but met his gaze unflinchingly. “He told me his name was Mordecai.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aimee didn’t know how he’d react to her unexpected bombshell. Roric’s eyes were wild, his muscular body coiled for action.

  “No. It couldn’t be Mordecai.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. Was he calling her a liar or was he just in denial? “Tall guy, black hair, black eyes.” And because he looked so skeptical, she couldn’t resist tossing in, “Handsome too.”

  Roric dropped his hands from her body and she immediately felt the cold. But it was more than just skin deep. This chill went all the way to her soul. He honestly didn’t believe her.

  “I think you saw a demon who disguised himself as Mordecai. They’re clever like that.”

  She’d thought about that, but she honestly didn’t think it was a demon. The flickers of emotion she’d glimpsed in his eyes weren’t something a demon would show. At least not any demons she’d met so far. Not that she’d met many. There was only Sandra, unless you counted the crew at the carnival. But still, she didn’t think they’d be wasting time on emotions like doubt or regret, both of which she thought she’d glimpsed in his eyes.

  She shook her head. “He told me the other two, Phoenix and Stavros, were dead and so were the women who freed them.” Fear threatened to overwhelm her, but she ruthlessly shoved it back down. She would not give in to it. “The woman who freed him is dead too. He killed her himself before he joined Hades. Not exactly a good track record for you guys, is it?”

  Aimee knew it was wrong to attack Roric’s fighting skills and his honor, but she wasn’t feeling real generous at the moment. Today had been a bitch so far and it wasn’t even lunchtime.

  She automatically checked her watch, surprised to find the morning gone. Well, a lot had happened since she’d awakened to find a man in her bed a few hours ago. Technically, it was past lunchtime, not that she felt like eating anything.

  She glanced back at Roric but he hadn’t moved. Watching him was like watching a statue. The slight rise and fall of his chest was the only indication he was actually alive. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t blink. Finally she saw a slight tic beneath his left eye. “I will protect you.”

  “Yeah, right.” Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she ambled to the top of the stairs that led to the yard. There was a small grassy area that contained a woodpile and a shed. Beyond that, the forest held sway as towering pines, majestic oaks and colorful maple trees surrounded her home.

  It made her sad to think that this might be the last day she’d spend here. She didn’t want to think what would happen to her home after she was gone. There was no family to inherit it. The house and land would be sold and the money donated to various charities once the government took their share. It depressed her to realize her life had had such a small impact on the world.

  There would be no one to mourn, no one to care. Sure, the townspeople would talk. This would be just another chapter in the sorry life of poor Aimee Horner. Aimee wasn’t certain there would be a body for them to bury or if she’d just disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. Maybe her story would end up on one of those sensational televisions shows. Whatever Happened to Aimee Horner? Or maybe The Mysterious Disappearance of Aimee Horner? Something suitably dramatic.

  She shook off her morose thoughts and picked up the conversation as though it had never stopped. “You’d throw me to the wolves, or demons in this case, if you thought it would rescue your Lady or your fellow warriors. Don’t deny it.” She turned to face him once again, wanting to see his reaction. Hoping she was wrong.

  Roric raked his fingers through his hair, the white stripes gleaming in the morning sun. “What do you want from me?”

  Again, his tone was low and restrained. She wanted to break his control, penetrate the barrier that seemed to surround him most of the time. Occasionally he slipped its yoke, usually during moments of intense physical need.

  “I want the truth!” she shouted, her anger bubbling over. “I want you to be honest with yourself and with me. If you thought it would free the goddess you serve, you’d hand me over to Hades yourself.”

  This entire situation was a mess. If she helped him, she’d mostly likely end up dead or worse. If she didn’t help him—assuming she had a choice—she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. If he kept her alive, he might die himself, or he might have to forfeit his own life or the lives of his friends. If he didn’t keep her alive, she knew he’d feel as though he’d failed her and his honor. They were both damned if they did and damned if they didn’t—literally.

  Frustration poured off him in waves. He didn’t fidget, didn’t flinch. His lips were pursed tight together, as if to keep from yelling at her.

  “Wouldn’t you?” She got right in his face. There was no backing away from this. She needed to know where she stood going in.

  “Yes!” he shouted. “No!” He shook his head like a wild beast, hair flying around his face. “I don’t know.” He met her gaze, and she could see the torture and pain that lived within him. The muscles of his jawbone flexed as he ground his teeth together. His blue eyes darkened as he watched her.

  Aimee was coming to know him so well she could almost read his thoughts. Roric wanted to save them all, and that just wasn’t possible.

  “I understand.” And the strange part was that she did understand. The man had served the goddess since the beginning of time. She’d met him yesterday. There really was no choice for him.

  “I have to do this, Aimee.”

  She closed her eyes and savored the sound of her name on his lips. Just the fact that he was torn at all told her that she meant something to him. Besides, his loyalty to his friends meant he was capable of being loyal. How could she not admire that when there was so little loyalty left in the world?

  Against all reason, against all common sense, she had deep feelings for Roric. Whether it was love or not, she wasn’t quite certain. Who could be sure at a moment like this? Their time together had been filled with incredible happenings and emotional ups and downs. And it was only the beginning.

  But it was also the end.

  Roric would escape from Hades’ clutches and live to try to free his fellow warriors and the Lady or he would die trying. For him there truly was no other choice. His honor demanded it.

  And there was no choice for her either. She would help him, no matter the cost to herself.

  Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand. Roric reached out, slowly closing the gap between them. His large fingers wrapped around her smaller ones, practically swallowing her hand in his. “What did the scroll say?”

  “Aimee.” He squeezed her fingers. “It wasn’t Mordecai.”

  She knew he wouldn’t believe her. Maybe he couldn’t believe her. If one of his fellow warriors could give in to Hades, what was stopping Roric from doing the same? To believe was to doubt himself and his conviction. And that was no way to begin a fight with the Lord of
the Underworld.

  Still, she had to be truthful with him. It would also do him no good to bury his head in the sand and possibly get blindsided at a crucial moment. “All I know is he told me his name was Mordecai. He didn’t seem concerned that he’d betrayed the rest of you, tainted his honor. I think in some ways he respects you. Deep down, he knows you’ll die rather than go over to the dark side.”

  Roric grunted, but said nothing. She could sense the restlessness in him.

  “I think that’s also the reason you couldn’t sense any lingering taint of evil in the bedroom. He spent thousands of years being honorable, and I don’t think he’s quite rotten to the core yet. Although, now that he’s started down that slippery slope, there’s no going back. Hades won’t let him walk away from his agreement. Those contracts don’t come with loopholes.”

  “You seem to know a lot about such things.”

  She noted that he didn’t comment on Mordecai and let it drop. She’d done all she could. He could believe her or not. The choice was his.

  “Hey, I’m a graphic-novel illustrator. I read all kinds of dark fantasy.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You like to read dark fantasy, do you?” One corner of his mouth kicked upward.

  “Yeah, I’m a sucker for wounded warriors and hopeless quests. I guess that’s why I got the job of setting you free. I’ve been prepping for it my entire life.”

  Roric shook his head. “That is fiction. This is reality.”

  “Believe me, I’m well aware of that.”

  The air around them began to shimmer. The sun dimmed as a huge black cloud rolled in front of it. The wind picked up, tugging at her sweatshirt like a hundred unseen hands, ruffling her hair.

  Roric turned in a circle, the swords winking into existence in a heartbeat. He held them slightly in front of him, ready to fight. “They’re coming.”

  Her heart began to pound. Taking a deep breath, she watched the woods. What was once safe and familiar now appeared dark and foreboding. She needed a weapon, a way to defend herself. No way was she meeting one of these creatures empty-handed again. Somehow she knew the time for negotiating, for cajoling, was done.