Chapter Eighteen

Aeros cursed softly, more confused by Tabithia than before. He’d just experienced the best pleasure of his life, and he’d not even been inside her, and she’d pushed him off like a leper.

She’d been hesitant at first, almost as if she’d been nervous. Just like in the caves, he’d thought she’d not known what to do.

Ridiculous. He burned with jealousy at the thought of her with another. But he’d been with women before her, and he could accept she’d been with men as well. So why the innocent act? He had no idea. This teasing, then leaving him, acting as if he’d done something shameful seemed to indicate she’d been a virgin, but now…he didn’t know. Maybe she’d been disappointed with him. Had she wanted him inside her, not simply giving her an orgasm? He’d not missed it. She’d been lost for him.

Had she expected more?

And now she believed he took his orders from Ares, did the bidding of a selfish, arrogant god. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he glared at his boots before deciding. He wasn’t letting her get away this easily.

He was so intent on following her, he spun and almost decked Galen for holding his arm and pulling on him.

“Aeros! Damn, man. I have to talk to you.”

“Not now, Galen. Did you see which way Tabithia went?” He kept walking, shoving past the immortals at the club as he went. Tabithia. He needed her now. She wasn’t at the bar. His instincts rioted, telling him he’d missed something. Something important he couldn’t place. Somehow he felt like he had her all wrong. He needed to find her, talk to her, soothe her. Now.

“Look, man, that’s it. I need to tell you something about her.”

They broke through the crowd then, and he saw her brilliant hair. He followed. Would he always follow? He felt compelled to follow her. They exited the club after her, and he searched the street. He felt panic hit hard when he didn’t spot her. Maybe he’d misunderstood her. Maybe she’d not wanted to let him touch her. Maybe she’d simply wanted to talk. He should have talked to her—told her about Ares. His need to find the little witch, Dare. How he’d thought of nothing but Tabithia for days, nights, forever.

He turned a corner and spotted her under the dimness of an old, barely lit street light a few hundred yards down from them. He yelled before he could think why he shouldn’t. She didn’t turn around, but took off at a fast jog. He started running before using his brain. Galen, he distantly understood, was at his back, racing after him. She didn’t turn. She ran faster, turned a corner, and he knew before he reached it she’d be gone. He shouldn’t have chased her. He shouldn’t have yelled out her name.

His steps slowed until he halted where she must have used a travel spell. He should have… The thoughts died and rage nearly floored him, panic right on its tail. What if she’d exhausted herself? She’d looked tired. What if something had happened to her in the shift?

“Well, damn, that’s one way to scare a woman off.”

Spinning at the female’s mocking voice, he cursed himself for being off his guard. If Tabithia had had darker hair, and stood a bit taller, with blue-green eyes…

“Yeah, nice to meet you too, big guy. I gotta say, though, your first impression isn’t going so well. Maybe you improve with time?”

The bite to her tone made it clear she wasn’t amused.

“Who are you?” He wished at that moment that Ares would summon him because he was betting this was one of Tabithia’s aunts. And he also bet this wasn’t the helpful, friendly neighbourly aunt, Sorcha, but the partner in crime who’d told him he’d best not fuck with her niece. Shit.

“Oh, I think you know, Sparkie.”

His stomach bottomed out. Next to him, Galen coughed.

She fixed those aqua eyes on Galen, and his second in command shifted on his feet. Zeroing in on him again, she frowned and tapped her long fingers on her crossed arms.

“You’re her aunt.” He wasn’t calling her Trouble. He had no idea if that was a nickname she chose or not, but he simply wasn’t letting the word leave his mouth.

“Yeah, her aunt. So, tell me why I shouldn’t fry you like a toad in the Mojave Desert.”

“Why would you wish to?” He wasn’t too keen on frying, but what had he done? There was no way she knew he’d just experienced pleasure with her niece. He folded his arms across his chest to close his jacket just in case he had some kind of stain on his pants. Shit, he’d come like some teenager in his trousers. Did grown men lose control like that? Hell, with Tabithia, he felt like he was a stroke away every time he’d been near enough to scent her.

“You hurt my niece, that’s what you did.” She frowned and when he would have spoken, waved her hand and he could do no more than open his mouth. He snapped it shut. Witches had too much power.

She ignored his glare and started pacing sharply, back and forth.

“Well, let’s see if I can get this all straight. You want to win my niece as yours. But, I gotta say, you are skating the edge of my temper. You’ve saved her life, though, and that counts for something. You’ve also given her something, but have you caused more harm than good? Damned if I know. Sorcha, she’d be all over this, but she’s not around, is she? And mum’s the word from Tabbie concerning you. So that leaves me.” She paused for a nanosecond then took off with her rapid pacing again. “I tend to act first, think later.” She stopped again. This time her bright eyes glowed the lightest of aqua, and he felt the hairs on his neck lift. A clear warning drifted over him, and Galen shifted behind him, no doubt sensing how close the witch was to using her power.

“If I had my way you’d be fried, but I sense there is something about you…something that might…heal my niece.”

Heal Tabithia? She’d healed him. She’d brought life to his existence, colour, feeling, sensations he’d never felt before. How could he have harmed her?

Was she harmed? His brain circled and flooded with images of her hurting, needing him. The anxiousness in his stomach clenched tight.

“Settle down. She’s not in trouble, well, no more than usual.” Tabithia’s aunt whispered the last, sounding sad and tired.

No more than usual?

“But you? You surprise me. I mean, for one, you’re big. A warrior. No way around it. You’re huge, muscled, and full of honour. I can almost smell it on you. Do you even know how to loosen up?”

He didn’t speak, how could he? Galen coughed in his fist. So his man could make a sound, just found it impossible to speak. Bastard was enjoying this, too.

She sighed deeply and rubbed both hands over her face. “Oi, my head hurts from all this. For whatever reason, you have meaning to her.”

What was she talking about? He’d not harm Tabithia. Warm her ears, perhaps, for leaving him in this situation, but harm her? Never.

Green eyes bright, she focused on him again. She’d stopped pacing and stood facing him. For a woman who barely weighed a hundred pounds and wore flip-flops and baggy military green cargo pants rolled up to her calves, and some kind of flimsy green and orange halter top, she held her own against him. He knew he was glaring at her, but there wasn’t a way to stop it. She pissed him off. Scolding him and not allowing him to speak? Impossible relatives.

“Then there is this nagging association with Ares. She’ll need a man who is there for her, not some other man. It’s almost on the ‘eww’ scale, what you do for that god. Can you end your service?”

He glared harder.

She sighed and shrugged, folding her arms across her chest and gave him a look like she was at the end of her patience.

“Well, then why should I allow you access to my niece?”

Like he had to ask her? Tabithia was a grown woman and could—wait. Access to her niece? He didn’t know where Tabithia lived. He couldn’t find her.

He opened his mouth and snapped it shut when he couldn’t speak.

The witch had the nerve to grin up at him before she waved her hand and released him from her spell.

That kind of power was wrong on several levels.

“I would never harm her.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Gee, guess what? You just did.”

He frowned, off balance again. Had he? Had he hurt her?

“Not physically, you dolt. My niece…” Sighing, she glanced away, then back at him and the difference in her was startling. The pain reflected on her face, the unshed tears in her aqua gaze, had him speechless.

A chill settled over him. He knew before she opened her mouth that he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. One glance at Galen showed his concern clearly matched his own. The big warrior was as protective of Tabithia as he was.

“My niece has been harmed before. She still suffers from…it. You brought all those memories to the front. Tabithia is good at hiding. She excels at hiding. She boxed the past away, thinking she could ignore it and it would simply fade with time. But, like anything you ignore, it simply waited until she was weak to break free. I’m not sure she is ready for you. For the feelings you’ll stir.”

Sizing him up, she sighed, firmness settling over her features.

Dread filled him. Tabithia had been harmed? How? By who? When?

It didn’t matter. He would help her forget. He knew of pain. He knew of a past that threatened the present with painful memories.

“I will be patient. Tell me how to aid her. Tell me what happened to her.”

The witch shook her head again, letting out a breath. “I cannot. It’s not my story to tell. She’s never spoken of it to anyone. She needs a man with patience, understanding, who’s there for her. Only her. You lack all three. Sorry, big guy, you may be her mate, you might very well be the one, but she’s not ready. And you’re not good for her. If you were? She’d not have run from you in tears. Tears. My niece does one thing very well. She hides, buries her emotions so deep they never escape. Tears? Never.”

He’d made her cry? Pain splintered in his chest.

“Look, you’re probably a great guy. Most of you Spartans can’t help that your god sucks, but come on. You’re a Spartan, right? That means you’re tough, in control, in charge. It can’t be that way with Tabbie. She needs a man who can be so much more.” Smiling sadly, she continued in a soft voice. “Sorry, but you’re just not it.”

Silence filled the street. Even the distant cars were too soft to register as more than a buzz in his ears. The greyness he’d grown to hate threatened to drown him. He knew, absolutely knew, this woman could end his time with Tabithia.

“No. He is the one,” Galen said. “Aeros is a good man. He is her mate. We didn’t even know we were given such gifts, but now that he knows? He will do everything in his power to make her happy. To see to her. We were once as you say, but not any longer. If the gods have given us this gift, a mate, we will honour them above all others. Aeros made her happy. I saw it, saw her with him, saw her happy.”

Aeros met Galen’s eyes and frowned. Everything he said was true. He would honour Tabithia even before his god. Ares had given him this world to live in, but Tabithia? She made it a life. The possibilities burst around him. Life. To actually love and live. To share this existence with her? Could he be so blessed? Had he made her happy? She had seemed happy in the jungle.

“Pretty words, pretty man, but sorry, I just can’t see this big guy giving as much as my niece needs.”

“I will. I will do anything.” He sliced his hand flat though the air between them. “I will endure anything for her. Anything she needs, I will give her. I will give her my life if you demand it. Patience? Understanding? I can give these for as long as I live.”

Trouble’s eyebrows rose in disbelief as he spoke, but when he stopped she began pacing again, nibbling on her thumb in agitation, almost as if she warred with herself over his words. The slap of her flip-flops would have been comical if the situation wasn’t so damn tense. He felt that he’d stepped out on a razor-thin wire, and that one wrong step with this miniature witch would destroy his only chance at a life. Love. At Tabithia in his life, by his side sharing a future together.

Galen motioned for him to say something, but he had no idea what to say. How to convince this woman that he…loved Tabithia. He did. He recognised that now, could say it, think it, feel it. He loved her.

“I love her. I love her and will always love her. No matter what. You can’t keep me from her.”

Freezing in place, the witch slowly turned her head and gave him a sideways glare. “Love? You think I’m soft? Do you think love is enough? Come here to me, Aeros, let me show you what you think you love. Come, and if you can endure the reality of my niece’s pain, then perhaps, perhaps I will give you a chance to prove those pretty words.”

Without waiting on him to come to her, she strode over and gripped his forearm.

“Hold on.”

A shiver raced over his skin. The world receded much as it did when he used a portal, except he wasn’t in control. An angry witch held the reins, and he had no idea if he wanted to follow. With a rush, the world resurfaced, or part of it did. Around him, mist still clung to his vision, almost as if he were still in the shift. Looking down, he frowned to see his body still had not reformed completely.

“Stay cool, you’re not here, but in a vision of what is happening at this moment. Stay silent.”

He nodded once he understood. The mist parted, and a doorway appeared in front of them. Out of place, the wooden frame seemed to hang from the clouds. Solid and firm, the door swung open. Ice lodged in his throat and spread to capture his chest.

Tabithia was inside what looked like a dim closet, clothes hung around her on both sides, mostly all dark, black and long. But he barely noticed them—it was Tabithia who held his gaze and caused the ice to grow. She huddled before him, knees drawn up, red hair hanging down over her pale face, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Her delicate body shook as if in a gale, and he feared she’d harm herself with such tremors.

Then he saw the knife. Dripping crimson, the silver cut a long, deep path down the black sleeve of her shirt. Her forearm glistened with blood.

She harmed herself? Shock floored him, startling him so badly he couldn’t breathe. All his life he’d protected, fought to aid those less fortunate than himself, to create a safe world, even for those who had no idea he protected them.

Tabithia’s trembling increased, and the knife slipped along her pale flesh. She lifted the knife, and, with eyes open, she drew it over her arm again. Her face broke his heart. All the colour leached from her rosy cheeks. She huddled, pale and tear-streaked, so distressed it hurt him to see her this way, let alone to witness her harming herself. Green eyes glowed brilliant, and another tear fell as the blade split her flesh.

He had to stop her. He jerked to action only to find he couldn’t move. Something tight and firm held him in place, like a rope or chain binding his body back.

“No. You may not let her know you are here. This is Tabithia’s way. When the pain is too great, the emotions too high, she must do this, or the pain inside her grows intolerable. Three days she stayed with you in that jungle. Two weeks she’s hidden Dare from you. I’m surprised she’s held off this long.”

Rage roared through him. They let her do this. They allowed her to harm herself. They knew. And they let her.

“Can you accept this, Spartan? Can you see beyond the pain to the reason why?”

The reason? There was no reason. How could there ever be a reason to harm an inch of her?

A blow to his stomach had him bowing over, gasping and clutching his middle. Before he could draw breath to yell, he was back in the street, outside the club.

“See? You can never be her mate. Never. Best leave my niece be, fool.” With a snap of her fingers under his nose, he took what felt like a full hit to the face. Blood oozed down his forehead when he stood again. “Do you think to force her to stop? Do you think we haven’t tried? Do you? Silly man. See if you can listen for once. She is harmed. She is nearly broken. One blow by you and she will shatter. Tell me. Tell me why I should allow this chance?”

“Because I love her!”

He did. It was right. He felt it to the soles of his feet. He loved her. Even this. He would deal with this. He would…do something to comfort her. The memory of her face, upturned and full of fear after they’d reached climax in the club, filtered through his mind. Could he fix her? Could he love her enough for her to heal?

Determination filled him. He would. He would use every trick he had, everything he had learned about her to make her see she was his, and he… He was hers—from the first day, that first glimpse of her glorious hair and crystal-clear eyes, he’d been hers. Her sweet scent calmed him. Her voice eased him. Her body excited and completed his. They would be happy. He could do this. He’d won every battle, save one. He’d die before he lost this one.

“I see. So, you will love her.” Sounding as if she were musing over this, the witch twirled a lock of bright hair around her finger. A moment later, she seemed to have come to some sort of decision. His gut clenched.

“Well, I suppose I have to give you the chance.” Frowning, she muttered something he didn’t catch. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I got things to do. I’ll be watching, though, so if you fuck up? I’ll kill you.”

With that, Trouble gave them a finger wave and walked off.

“Damn, that woman is some handful.”

Incredibly, Galen sounded impressed. Gods save them.

“Don’t even think about it,” Aeros said.

Galen gave him a ‘what the hell’ grin. “Where did she take you?”

Where had she taken him? Shit. He’d forgotten to ask. Damn it. Taking off after her, he spotted something on the ground ahead of him. Stopping, he bent down and found a business card.

On it someone, Trouble, no doubt, had scrawled an address. Massachusetts? Tabithia lived in Massachusetts.