Eternal Rider

Eleven

The hot shower—in the white marble bathroom with six shower heads and heated benches—did not help Cara feel normal at all. The reality of her situation had sunk in, but now she wasn’t sure how she fit into this new actuality that was full of demons, legends, and gates of light that could take you anywhere in an instant.

Then there was the… whatever it was… happening between her and Ares. She’d kissed him. He’d kissed her back. He definitely couldn’t hide his attraction to her, not when she’d felt it jabbing into her belly when he held her pinned to the wall.

So yes, there was something physical making the air between them crackle. But at times it seemed like there was more. He could be hard, a total jerk, but he’d also feather a soft touch over her skin, or allow her to cling to him when she was scared out of her wits. And the fact remained that he had saved her life and given her safe harbor. Granted, keeping her safe was in his best interests. But he could make her captivity so much more miserable.

Then there had been that fun little announcement about how violence excited him. Some twisted part of her had continued to push him, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because if he was right, her lifespan had an expiration date that was coming up soon, and she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Though she’d never been religious, she’d prayed for a full return of the strength she’d had before the home invasion. She’d spent two years hoping to be rid of the constant paranoia, the jumpiness, the terror that would reach up and grab her by the throat every time she heard a strange sound or someone knocked on her door.

Be careful what you wish for. Because, yeah, she’d finally tapped into her inner well of strength, but only because she’d been attacked, kidnapped, branded, and hunted. She wasn’t sure the tradeoff was acceptable.

No, she was sure. It wasn’t.

Dripping wet and with only a towel around her, she padded into the bedroom, and it dawned on her that the only thing she had to wear was pajama bottoms. That’s what you get for not planning a kidnapping better.

Having no choice, she pawed through Ares’s dresser until she found a shirt to sleep in. Because as much as she hated to admit it, he was right; she needed to find Hal. Now that her life was tied to his, it was more important than ever that she locate him and get him to safety. Still, the idea that her role in helping was to sleep pissed her off, to be frank.

She’d been sleeping for two years, doing just enough to survive, and she was sick of it. She wanted to be the person she’d been before the breakin, someone who made goals and then went after them. It was why she’d moved to South Carolina and started a holistic veterinary practice. She might have been hiding her ability, but that hadn’t meant she couldn’t use it as part of nature-based healing.

Frustrated, she jerked the white and red shirt over her head. The hem caught her midthigh, and the sleeves came past her elbows. Frowning, she tugged the front out to read it. Detroit Red Wings. Figured Ares was a hockey fan. A nice, violent game.

Violence excites me.

His words drew a shudder from her even as a forbidden thrill wove its way through her veins. She’d been a pacifist from birth, raised to believe that the pen was mightier than the sword, that physical force was a last resort and even then, there should be rules and fairness and minimal bloodshed. Her father had believed that war was never acceptable.

“Better to die yourself than dirty your soul by killing another,” he used to say, and she wondered how he’d feel about the intruder she’d… yeah. She wondered.

“Violence is for those who don’t have the intelligence to find another way.” Another of his favorite sayings, and one that made her smile, because her dad had never met Ares. The Horseman was far from stupid. Arrogant, brash, and oozing authority, maybe, but not stupid.

Absently, she reached up and ran her finger over the mark that had throbbed when he touched her, which was even now tingling. The tingling was different though, was more… urgent. It burned. What the…? She peered down the inside of the neckline. The mark was even brighter than before, its raised lines pulsing angrily.

So… this couldn’t be good. No, definitely not good, she thought, as a familiar odor drifted to her nose. It smelled like her veterinary office the morning she’d found it torn up.

It smelled like Hal.

A muffled growl from behind her brought every hair on her to attention. Icy terror made her clumsy as she slowly turned in an unsteady circle.

And came face to face with a rhino-sized hellhound.

Checkmate? She fucking checkmated him?

Ares paced like a tiger in a cage, steam building in his body, and not only from the frustration of Cara’s getting one up on him.

She was in the bedroom with the door closed and locked, and he was in the hallway, wanting in. He’d damned near worn a hole in the stone floor, and his earlobe throbbed from her bite. It hadn’t hurt, but it had left an impression all the way to his cock, which wanted the same treatment.

Violence excites me.

What a fucking stupid thing to say. Mainly because it was true. There was a reason for the term “bloodlust.” Hell, it was Ares’s middle name.

Not that he got all worked up from watching senseless violence. But being in the thick of battle, with the adrenaline pumping, the testosterone raging… nothing beat that rush.

Nothing except being chest to chest with Cara.

Shit, he’d wanted inside her. But then something extremely fucked up had happened. He’d felt as though his heart was connected via a pipeline to the agimortus on her chest. The sensation had been mildly erotic… until his heart had made like a gas pump, delivering fuel from his body to hers. Before his eyes, her skin developed a rosy glow, and though he could write some of it off to anger, and maybe a little arousal, he’d felt strength rising in her. She’d begun to emanate power like a damned nuclear power plant, and all the while, he’d felt himself draining.

Maybe not draining, exactly, because it hadn’t been painful. Just… freaky. He’d lost his ability to sense conflict. And worse, his thoughts had gone linear, so single-minded he doubted he could strategize his way out of a shopping mall.

Footsteps approached, and he knew by the cadence that it was Thanatos. Knew by the heavy strikes that his brother was armored up.

“I visited Lilith’s temple and there was no sign of Tristelle… and what the hell are you doing?”

Ares cursed, long and loud. “I’m an idiot.”

“Duh.” Than grinned, because yeah, he was a real barrel of laughs. “But what are you doing?”

“Fucked up. This is so fucked up.” Ares slammed his fist into the wall and hissed through the pain. He never did shit like that, because if you ruined yourself, you couldn’t fight. Sure, the bones he’d just broken would be healed in an hour, but still. “She beat me.”

“Did you like it?”

“You’re still not funny.” Ares’s jaw was clenched so tight he could barely understand his own words. “She knows how important she is, and she called me on it.” Man, she’d shocked the shit out of him. Up until now, she’d been as timid as a mouse, afraid of someone saying boo to her, and suddenly, she’d sprouted some teeth.

Probably because the agimortus had ripped his balls out and transplanted them into her.

Thanatos laughed, and speaking of teeth, Ares wanted to knock his brother’s out of his head. “It’s about time someone got one up on you. And a female human at that.”

“Fuck you.”

“I can’t have sex.”

“This isn’t a joke, brother.” Every one of Ares’s muscles twitched. “I want her.”

Than arched a tawny eyebrow, the silver piercing catching the light. “Then take her.”

“It isn’t that simple. She can’t stand me.” Ares kept pacing, his gut churning, his dick aching. “But then she looks at me with…” Lust? Too strong a word. Longing? Too wimpy. But shit, he could smell her desire, and the way her body would curve into his…

Thanatos laughed again, and Ares’s hands curled into fists. “You can have any demon female in the underworld just by crooking your finger, and now you want a human, but you don’t know how to have her. This is good.” He cocked his head and studied Ares for a second. “Do you think you want her because she’s human? Is that the draw?”

It was a valid question. Ares hadn’t been with a human woman since before he was cursed, had been forced to sate his lusts with demons who appeared human. Halfbreeds were best; at least they were only part demon.

“Does it matter?”

Than’s eyes narrowed, and he sobered. “This isn’t a simple case of being horny, is it? You’re juiced.”

“Yeah.” Between the arousal, the vibes of world violence that were slamming into him, and the anger at the way his body and equipment were failing him in Cara’s presence… he was ready to blow. And not in the fun way.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Than braced one shoulder against the wall, his rangy body slipping into a deceptively relaxed pose. “You need to find a Monger to spend yourself on.”

Ares ran both his hands through his hair. “I know.” His body craved release… from fighting, fucking, or both. The longer he went without getting it, the more danger he put people in. Even now, people in nearby towns on the mainland would be engaging in violence, their tempers out of control. The longer Ares went like this, the farther the violence would spread.

“I can stay here while you go to the Four Horsemen.”

That would be the smart thing. He could find a demon female who was into the rough stuff, because right now, that was the only thing that was going to bring him down.

“Damn,” he breathed. “I haven’t been this bad off since we were first cursed.” For about fifty years after they’d become Horsemen, Ares had been unable to control his demon half, and he’d gone on fierce rampages of killing and sex. It had been a dark time for them all, so dark that they rarely discussed it. Than never did.

“You need to go. Hook up with Saw or Flail. Or both.”

Ares growled. Saw and Flail were Neethul demons, sisters named after implements of torture. The Neethul were a violent, cruel race of slavers, and though they didn’t look human, they didn’t look entirely demon, either. They were beautiful, with fine elven features, and Ares could handle that.

But he didn’t want to. He wanted to handle Cara.

“Okay, yeah. I’d planned to go anyway. See if I can get any intel on Pestilence.” He stared at the bedroom door. “I’m going to check on her first.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

He had to. Had to convince himself that he didn’t want her. Make her hate him or something. Anything to ease this insane lust. It wasn’t only about his physical hungers—it was about making sure he could function. A distracted soldier was a dead soldier… but a distracted commander soon found himself in charge of nothing but an army of dead bodies. He couldn’t afford to be distracted now, not when all humanity depended on him.

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“Ares…”

“Stand down.” Ares shouldered past his brother, and when Than laid a restraining hand on his biceps, Ares’s temper flared even hotter. “Get your fucking hand off me.”

Than decked him. Knocked him right into the wall. With a roar, Ares struck back, nailing his brother in the jaw. Blood exploded from Thanatos’s mouth, and his eyes glowed furious amber, but he didn’t attack.

“For fuck’s sake, Ares, I’m trying to help. You’re too far gone to see your own recklessness.” He put his hand to the back of his mouth, stared at the wetness that came away. “You might not remember the trail of death you left behind the last time you had your head up your ass like this, but I do. I followed your roadmap of destruction like a junkie after a dealer, and fuck if I’m going to do that again.”

Thanatos’s words broke through Ares’s haze of need, but only barely. Than’s draw to death bothered him, but he couldn’t help it. Large-scale death energized Than like nothing else, gave him the climax he couldn’t have in any other way.

Closing his eyes, Ares took a deep, calming breath, which was about as effective as spitting on a forest fire. “Fine. I’m out of here. Tell Limos to—”

The smoky stench of evil hit him so hard his eyes watered, and he and Than spun toward the bedroom’s twin doors. Ares blew through them, tearing one off the hinges. And stopped dead, his heart hammering like a fist against his rib cage.

The hellhound that had murdered his family was inches from Cara.

And its teeth were centimeters from her throat.