Aimee quickly glanced at Roric, not wanting to take her eyes from the demon for more than a split second. She was planning something. It was in her eyes, the way they were filled with malevolent glee. Roric could have been carved from stone. Except for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he didn’t move a muscle.
Sandra hopped onto the platform of the carousel, standing where the jaguar used to be. “Now Stavros was more of a challenge.” She licked her lips.
Aimee gasped when she saw the demon’s tongue. It was forked like a serpent.
“What about Stavros?” Roric took a step toward Sandra. Aimee wanted to grab onto the waistband of his pants and pull him back. The demon was distracting him on purpose, but he was too emotionally involved to notice.
“Mmm.” Sandra undulated her hips. “Now he would have been a challenging creature to ride.” Laughter rippled in the air as the demon twirled in a circle. “He did his best to protect the poor creature who freed him. Such a frail little thing she was.”
Aimee was getting sick to her stomach. All the women who’d freed the warriors had come to a bad end. She wasn’t sure which was worse, going up in flames or death by demon.
“But Mordecai was smarter.” Sandra hopped off the carousel, the slit of her dress falling back to reveal a shapely thigh and part of her bare buttocks. “He sacrificed the girl. Killed her himself as an act of good faith.”
“You lie.” Roric’s voice was rough as though the words were torn from his throat.
“Do I?” she mocked. “Why don’t you ask your little friend who she was talking to earlier today?” Sandra swiveled around to face her. “Didn’t you share your little visit with your warrior?” She made a tsking sound. “Shame on you, Aimee.”
Roric’s lips compressed into a hard line, but he said nothing.
Sandra smiled again, a calculating expression as she glanced from Roric to her. “Well, well. You did tell him, Aimee, but he didn’t believe you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Aimee wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She was playing right into the demon’s hands by even answering her. She knew Sandra was goading them, but Aimee couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“You keep telling yourself that.” Pity filled Sandra’s eyes. “You’re willing to die for him, and he won’t even believe you. These warriors care nothing for the women who free them. Why should you sacrifice yourself and your future for him? Walk away, and your part in this drama is done. In the morning, this will be nothing more than a dream that will fade with time.”
Aimee blinked, not quite certain she’d heard the demon correctly.
Sandra nodded. “Hades doesn’t want you.” She tugged at the hem of her dress, pulling it down to cover her upper thighs and, at the same time, exposing more of her breasts. “Your soul is nothing to him. He wants the warrior.”
“You should go.” Roric turned to her, his eyes empty, his expression unreadable. “This is not your fight. Go back to your life, back to your comic books.”
The temptation was overwhelming. She hadn’t asked for this. This entire drama had been forced upon her, an unwilling pawn.
For a brief second, Aimee was tempted to turn her back and walk away. After all, this wasn’t her fight. She hadn’t asked to be a part of this war between gods and goddesses she hadn’t even believed were real until two days ago. She should go back to her life.
Roric didn’t care about her at all. Hadn’t he made it more than abundantly clear this morning that he’d do whatever he had to do to free the Lady? He’d sacrifice her in a second. After all, Mordecai had already done just that. And the other two hadn’t been able to protect the women who’d released them.
The carousel sat in front of her, a grim reminder of her fate. As soon as the three remaining warriors were freed, they’d probably get the women who’d released them killed. It was what they did.
Her home and her art studio beckoned to her. She had a new project to begin and a graphic novel of her own she wanted to finish. Work had always been her solace. She was alone, as always.
She didn’t belong here.
Aimee turned on her heel and took a step toward the opening in the tent. Something niggled in the back of her brain. Go back to your comic books. His words struck a chord deep inside her. She had nothing in her life but her work. No friends, no family. She was alone as he was alone.
“Bye, Aimee.” Sandra’s sultry voice was filled with glee.
The pictures Aimee had drawn over the past few months flashed in her brain. The tiger and the warrior were one. And she loved them both.
Images from the past day flickered through her mind like a movie on fast forward. She saw the two of them loving, laughing and fighting side by side.
As if she was coming out of a dream, Aimee shook herself. She felt the compulsion slip away. The demon had played on her doubts, filling her mind with thoughts that weren’t her own. Well, they were hers, but magnified a thousand times.
Her place was here. She would not desert Roric in his hour of need. The man had enough abandonment issues as it was.
She slowly turned on her heel and smiled at the demon. “You never did know when to shut up, Sandra.” She faced Roric, looking into his eyes for some sign of what he was feeling. But there was nothing. She was making this decision on faith alone. Taking a deep breath, she embraced her destiny and sealed her fate. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Sixteen
An unholy shriek filled the air as the demon displayed her displeasure. Roric kept one eye on the succubus and surreptitiously watched Aimee as well. He wished she’d gone when she’d had the chance. He wanted her safe, but selfish bastard that he was, he also wanted her with him.
He’d hardened his heart when she’d turned her back on him to walk away, although he couldn’t blame her for doing so. Not that he believed everything the demon had said, but there was enough truth mixed with the lies that he wasn’t certain what was fact and what was deceit.
Roric had dealt with the treacherous demons long enough to know that Aimee was being influenced by this one. He’d seen it done a thousand times. The demon magnified a person’s own beliefs and fears, making it easier to manipulate them.
The fact was he had unwittingly brought her into this battle, risking her life and soul. He’d slaked his lust with her body, drank in her caring and concern like a man dying of thirst sucked in water. Her home had been damaged and violated, and she’d been attacked and almost killed by demons in her own yard. Through it all, she’d stood beside him. Yet he’d dismissed her concerns and hadn’t believed her when she’d told him Mordecai had approached her.
Why wouldn’t she leave him? She should leave him.
But she hadn’t. She’d started to but stopped. He’d seen her shake herself, as if fighting off the compulsion. Then she’d turned to him and smiled.
Her eyes said it all. She was here to stay.
His heart swelled in his chest, threatening to burst. Power flowed into him unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Aimee wasn’t leaving him.
He tried to push aside the emotions flooding him. Now wasn’t the time for this. But there might never be time. That brought him up short. “You should leave.” His voice sounded hoarse and rough. He drew himself up to his full height and stared down at her.
The tiger within him roared. Like him, the beast didn’t know how to feel. He was angry she hadn’t left to protect herself and thrilled that she’d chosen to stand and fight beside him.
His fingernails elongated into huge claws and he felt his face changing, jaw elongating and teeth sharpening into fangs as the tiger surged forward. Bones cracked and started to reform. The primal part of his soul wanted dominance.
Aimee was his mate.
It no longer mattered that he was immortal and she was not. It no longer mattered that they both might die in the next few minutes. He accepted what was and embraced it. Drawing in a deep breath, he inhaled her unique scent, letting it fill his nostrils and lungs. He l
et out a roar of warning. He would tear the demon limb from limb if she dared touch Aimee.
Aimee’s eyes widened as his body began to change, but she didn’t run, didn’t cringe from him. Instead, she hurried closer. “What’s wrong?”
Roric shoved the tiger back, but it took a Herculean effort. His features morphed back into those of a man. The tiger snarled inside him, pacing and roaring for release. But Roric couldn’t allow the beast to have dominion. Not now.
He needed to remain in his human form, to be able to think and reason clearly. When he was in his tiger form, he was more instinctual. And it would take a combination of brains, brawn and instinct to beat Hades and his minions at their own game.
The tiger quieted when Roric silently promised to let him out if the need arose. The beast crouched, willing and ready to fight.
“Roric? Are you okay?” Aimee’s concern was a balm to his battered soul, strengthening him.
He brushed his thumb over her cheek, marveling in her softness. “You should have left when you had the chance.”
“Yes, well, I should have done a lot of things in my life.” She gave him a wry smile. “Remember what I told you earlier. Heroine. Home alone. Always ends up dead.”
“I remember.” No matter what happened, he would always remember the selflessness of Aimee, her sacrifice and her courage.
“Enough!” The frustrated screech filled the space around them. “This touching scene is nauseating. If you won’t listen to me, perhaps you’ll listen to them.”
A black hole swirled in the air in front of them, growing larger and larger the faster it spun. Roric tensed, waiting to see what new horrors it would spit out. He frowned as a tall, dark-haired man and a shorter brunette woman stepped forth. They looked very familiar.
“Dad,” Aimee gasped. “Mom.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Her mother rushed forward to embrace her. Aimee jumped back at the last second. The woman dropped her arms by her sides, looking crushed. She appealed to the man beside her.
“Aimee, honey, it’s okay.” The man reached out his hand to her. A low, menacing growl broke from Roric’s throat. The tiger didn’t want anyone touching his mate. The man hastily yanked back his hand.
“I don’t understand.” Aimee looked at her parents, at him and then at Sandra. “You’re not real. You can’t be real.”
“They are,” Sandra insisted. “Hades can do anything, including capture souls.” Her smile was cruel. “It’s up to you what happens to them.”
Roric felt his heart shrivel. There was no way Aimee would choose him over her parents. She couldn’t. Not with them standing in front of her. Not even he, with his powers, could tell if they were real or a demon trick.
Aimee shook her head and backed away until she hit the canvas wall of the tent. “This is impossible.”
“We don’t want to go back there.” Several tears trickled down the older woman’s cheeks. She looked so much like Aimee that it hurt Roric to see her in such pain. His guts twisted as he imagined just how tortured Aimee must feel at this moment.
“It’s dark and cold and it hurts.” The older woman rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Her husband stepped up behind her and wrapped her in his embrace.
“Aimee, you have to help us,” the man pleaded.
Tears flowed freely down Aimee’s face. “There is no way you ended up in Hell. You’re good people. So you must be a trick. You’re not real.”
“It’s me. It’s Mom.” The older woman reached out to Aimee. “Remember when you were six and we had the blizzard that kept us snowbound for four days? We cooked over the fireplace in the living room and camped out on the floor there.”
“And remember when you were eight and crashed your bike into the apple tree on the edge of the garden?” the man added. “You cried so hard. Not because you were hurt, but because you broke your bike.”
Aimee stepped forward, her footsteps hesitant. No one but her parents could know such things. “Mom. Dad.” She swiped her arm over her face, drying her tears in her sleeve. Eyes red and luminous, she reached out to the woman.
Roric could feel her slipping away from him. His heart ached for her and for himself. She deserved this. She deserved to have her family reunited and to be happy.
But what about the Lady? What about his fellow warriors? Didn’t they deserve to be rescued? They’d suffered for millennia. What were a few human years of suffering when compared to that?
He knew the demon was feeding his doubts and thoughts, but that didn’t stop the flood of disappointment and anger that filled him. Aimee was quick to change her mind. One minute she was staying, the next she was turning her back on him to save her family.
But wasn’t that exactly what he was doing?
The Lady wouldn’t want innocents hurt in order to free herself, and neither would his fellow warriors. Resolve filled him. He would support Aimee, whatever her decision.
As he watched, mother and daughter drew closer, almost touching. At the last second, Aimee curled her fingers into her palm.
“No! This isn’t real. This is a trick.”
“You’re my daughter,” the man cried.
Roric stared at the man. For a moment, he thought he saw the outline of the man’s body shimmer. “Aimee.”
“I know.” She smiled sadly, clearly hearing the warning of caution in his tone. She turned to the older man. “I wish you were my father, but you’re not.”
“That’s not true,” the woman cried.
“My parents are in heaven, and nothing you can say or do can convince me otherwise.”
“You’re right. You’re not my daughter,” the man whispered. “My daughter would save her parents, not sacrifice them for a man she barely knows.”
Aimee winced but stood her ground. The black hole opened up, and the pair cried out as they were sucked back into the depths of hell. They were both screaming as the hole closed around them, swallowing them whole. Aimee cried out and stumbled forward, but Roric caught her and yanked her back against him.
Her skin was cold and clammy. She was shivering. He knew how much this had cost her. The devil had made certain she’d never know for sure if she was being tested or if she’d just resigned her parents to an eternity in Hell.
“Such a selfish creature you are, Aimee.” Sandra, who’d been quiet until now, shook her head mockingly. “And here I thought you were such a good girl. You might fit in just fine in Hell after all.”
Aimee couldn’t stop trembling. Her teeth chattered as hard as if she were lying naked outside in the snow in the dead of winter. She felt so cold. Her limbs shook uncontrollably. It had been too real. Her parents had stood before her only moments before, and she hadn’t even touched them. She’d been too afraid to. If they’d felt real, she wasn’t sure what she would have done.
Would she have sacrificed Roric and his friends and his goddess for her own happiness? She was very afraid that she would have. She ached with the need to feel her father’s strong arms around her, to feel her mother’s tender kiss against her brow.
Nothing she’d ever done in her life had been as hard as what she’d just had to do. Not living through the accident or dealing with the death of her parents, not going home to an empty house and learning to start over had been as difficult.
She hadn’t had any choice with the accident. That was fate. This had been her choice.
Anguish filled her like acid, eating away at her soul. Had it been a test? Had they been nothing more than demons in disguise? Or had they been real? She couldn’t believe that, not for a second, or she’d go mad with grief.
She could still smell her father’s spicy aftershave and her mother’s gardenia perfume. Her chest ached as she suppressed a sob. She would not cry. Not again. That would give the demon way too much pleasure.
Roric’s arms were strong and warm around her. Supporting her. Protecting her.
Yet, like her parents, his protection was an illusion. There was no safety to be found. Not anywhere. Ro
ric had his agenda, and she’d made her decision. There was no going back. For either of them.
Sandra’s words mocked her.
Maybe her actions had damned her, but that was a chance she’d had no choice but to take. As much as she wanted them to be her parents, she truly believed they were nothing more than demons, or shadows from the past.
She couldn’t discount the possibility that they’d been able to pull memories out of her mind and manipulate them. She’d been vulnerable to Hades many times in her dreams, and she had no idea how much power he wielded in that realm.
That cursed black hole appeared again and began to spin. Roric released her and shoved her behind him. “Give me a sword,” she hissed. She was sick and tired of being unarmed.
He manifested a three-foot blade and handed it to her. It was heavy but substantial. She gripped it tight and hefted it in front of her, ready to face whatever appeared from the depths of the black hole.
But this time, no creature stepped out. Instead, it was like looking through a window into Hell itself. It was dark and fetid. The dank smell seeped through the opening. Rotten flesh, damp earth and sulfur coated her nostrils and throat. She swallowed, but that only made it worse.
Occasional sparks lit the shadows, illuminating the craggy rocks and oil-like puddles that riddled the path. It was very familiar, and Aimee knew she’d walked that path in her dreams. Sweat coated her body, making her clothing stick to her skin. She was scared spitless. No way did she want to go back there.
But there was no choice. The scene changed, zooming in on one particular shadow. Aimee squinted, trying to bring the silhouette into focus. It shifted slightly as a flame flared from one of the oily puddles, revealing a pale hand. Was it a demon or a person? She prayed it wasn’t one of her parents. She couldn’t handle any more of the psychological torture.
She frowned and looked closer. The figure was almost familiar somehow. Had she seen it during her dream visit? Several lights jumped to life, revealing a naked limb partially covered by a tattered cloak. No, not a cloak. Hair, long hanks of matted hair hung around the poor creature, covering its body. Bare feet shuffled along as the pale hand used the wall for guidance.
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