CHAPTER 4

“Now, ain’t this a bitch,” Hunter said in an even tone as he pulled the sunglasses off and tucked them into his coat pocket. He moved with such deliberate slowness that Amanda knew it was his way of letting Desiderius know just how small of a threat the Dark-Hunter perceived him to be.

“Here I am, trying to kiss my girl, and you have to interrupt us. What, were you raised in a barn?”

With a calmness that astounded her, Hunter turned around to face Desiderius. “By the way, touch the woman—or the Lamborghini—and you’re a dead man.”

Desiderius came out of the shadows to stand beneath a circle of white moonlight. The contrasting buttery lamplight fell behind him at an odd angle, giving him a sinister appearance despite his angelic beauty.

“Nice car you have there, Dark-Hunter,” Desiderius said. “It makes trailing it to you so much easier. As for your threat, I’m already a dead man.” His perfect lips twitched into a mocking smile. “And so are you.”

Dressed in a fashionable blue pin-striped suit, Desiderius looked like a highly paid male model. His skin was golden and unblemished, his blond hair a shade lighter than the Dark-Hunter’s. His beauty was so flawless, it was almost surreal.

He didn’t appear any older than his mid-twenties. A man at the height of his sexual appeal and strength.

Amanda swallowed as a shiver of fear went up her spine. There was something insidious about a man so evil looking so sublime. The only giveaway to his real nature was the long canine teeth he didn’t bother to conceal when he spoke.

“I almost hate to kill you, Dark-Hunter. Unlike the others I’ve bested, you have such an amusing sense of humor.”

“Well, I try.” Hunter placed himself between them. “Now, why don’t you make this a bit more interesting and let the woman go?”

“No.”

Out of nowhere, they were attacked.

Amanda heard a sharp click.

Grabbing her hand that was bound to his so that he wouldn’t hurt her during the fight, Hunter caught the first golden vampire with the toe of his boot. As the vampire vaporized into a cloud of dust, she realized the click had been the blade in his boot being released.

The blade instantly retracted.

With a move straight out of Hollywood, Hunter clipped another vampire with his elbow, then sent him flipping head over heels onto the ground. In one lightning-fast action, he knelt, twirled open a butterfly knife, embedded it into the Daimon’s chest, then twirled it closed as the vampire evaporated.

Hunter rose to his feet.

A third one came from the shadows.

Acting on instinct, Amanda whirled and kicked him back with her leg. She caught him in the groin and sent him to the ground, whimpering.

Hunter arched a brow at her.

“Black belt in aikido,” she said.

“Any other time, I’d kiss you for that.” He smiled, then looked past her shoulder. “Duck.”

She did and he tossed a knife straight into the chest of another vampire. The vampire vanished into black vapor.

Hunter pulled the gun out of its holster. “Get in the car,” he ordered, pushing her toward the driver’s seat.

Her entire body quaking from adrenaline, Amanda got in as fast as the handcuffs and his hold on her hand would allow. She climbed over the gearshift, into the passenger seat, while Hunter fired at the vampires.

He got in behind her, closed the door, and started the car.

Good Lord, Hunter was amazing, and perfectly calm. She’d never seen anything like it in her life. He was totally unruffled.

Another beautiful, blond vampire jumped on the hood as Hunter put the car in reverse and hit the gas. His fangs bared, the vampire tried to punch through the windshield.

“Didn’t I tell you not to touch the Lamborghini?” Hunter groused an instant before he cut the wheel and sent the vampire flying through the air.

“And they told me you guys couldn’t fly,” Hunter said, straightening out the car and heading for the street. “I guess Acheron needs to update the handbook.”

Amanda realized there were two cars after them.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, placing her hand on his thick, masculine wrist to allow him as much mobility as she could while he shifted gears. This was getting ugly and the last thing she wanted was to interfere with whatever he had to do to get her safely out of this.

“Hold tight,” Hunter said as he turned the radio on, and accelerated.

Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “That Smell” blared as they whipped out of the parking lot, into traffic.

Her entire body rigid, Amanda started praying the Rosary even though she wasn’t Catholic.

“Lights!” Amanda shouted as she realized he was driving in total darkness and his windows were tinted far past the legal limit. “Lights would be very good right now!”

“Since they hurt my eyes to the point I can barely see, no they wouldn’t. Trust me.”

“Trust you, my left foot,” she snapped, using her free hand to hold on to the seat belt like a lifeline. “I’m not immortal over here.”

He laughed at that. “Yeah, well, in a bad enough car wreck, neither am I.”

Amanda gaped. “I really hate your sense of humor.”

His smile widened.

They went speeding through the crowded New Orleans streets, weaving in and out of lanes until she thought she’d be sick with fear. Not to mention a couple of times when she was sure her hand would be wrenched off by his movements.

Swallowing, she did her best to keep her nausea at bay while she braced herself against the dash.

A huge black Chevy pulled up beside them and tried to run them into a tractor-trailer. Grinding her teeth, Amanda bit back a scream.

“Don’t panic,” Hunter said over the music as he cut the wheel to move underneath the semi. He gunned the engine. “I’ve done this a lot.”

Amanda couldn’t breathe as they entered another lane where a red Firebird waited to try and ram them. The Dark-Hunter narrowly missed a parked car.

Amanda’s panic was so severe all she could do was gape. And pray. She did lots and lots of praying.

By the time they reached the interstate, Amanda had seen her entire boring life flash before her eyes. And she didn’t like what she saw.

It was way too brief. There were a lot of things she wanted to do before she died—including getting her hands on Tabitha and beating the snot out of her.

Suddenly, the black Chevy was back, trying to run them off the road. Hunter hit the brakes and jerked his car over. They skidded sideways.

Her stomach lurched.

“You know,” Hunter said calmly. “I really hate Romans, but I have to say their descendants make one fine automobile.”

He shifted and accelerated again, flying past the Chevy. They jumped the median, drove across oncoming traffic, and went down an exit so fast that all she could see was a flashing blur of lights.

The sounds of horns and screaming brakes filled her ears. It was followed by grinding metal and a loud pop and crunch as the Firebird full of Daimons hit the black Chevy. The Firebird drove the other car of Daimons into the retaining wall where it flipped over the traffic.

Amanda still couldn’t breathe as the Daimons’ Chevy came to rest beside the highway without striking another car.

Hunter actually whooped as he cut the wheel to turn the Lamborghini around in the street to face the opposite direction. He slammed on the brakes and took a look at the chaos they had left in their wake.

Her entire body shaking, Amanda gaped.

Hunter turned the radio off and smiled triumphantly. “And not a single mark on the Lamborghini. Ha! Eat steel, you soul-sucking bastards.”

Downshifting, he stomped the gas, turned a tight, squealing circle in the street, and headed back toward the Quarter.

Amanda sat in stunned disbelief as she did her best to take long, deep, soothing breaths. “You actually enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, hell yes. Did you see the look on their faces?” He laughed. “Man, I love this car.”

She looked up at the sky, and implored divine aid. “Dear God, please separate me from this maniac before I die of fright.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he said, his voice teasing. “Don’t tell me that didn’t get your blood pumping.”

“Yes, yes, it did. In fact, my blood is pumping so fast that I’m not really sure why my heart hasn’t exploded.” She stared at him. “You are one crazy human being.”

The laughter died instantly. “I used to be, anyway.”

She swallowed at the hollowness of his voice. Without meaning to, she must have struck a nerve.

Their mood subdued, Amanda gave him directions to Grace’s bungalow off St. Charles.

A few minutes later, they pulled into the driveway behind Julian Alexander’s black Range Rover. The back fender was slightly crushed in from his latest collision with a lamppost.

Poor Julian, he really was a menace on the road. She slid a sideways glance to the Dark-Hunter. Then again, comparatively speaking, Julian wasn’t so bad after all. At least he’d never given her a heart attack.

Hunter helped her out of his side of the car, then led the way to the door. The old-fashioned bungalow was completely lit up, and through the sheer curtains over the windows, Amanda could see Grace sitting in an armchair in the living room.

The petite brunette had her long hair in a ponytail, and her stomach was twice as round as it had been the last time Amanda had seen her. Even though the baby wasn’t due for another nine weeks, poor Grace looked as if she could give birth at any moment.

Grace was laughing at something, but there was no sign of Julian or their guests.

Amanda paused to brush her hair with her hand, straighten her dirty clothes, and button her coat over the bloodstains. “Grace said they have company, so I think we should try and be a little inconspicuous, okay?”

He nodded as she rang the bell.

After a brief wait, the door opened to show Julian Alexander in the foyer. At six three, Julian was every bit as striking as Hunter. He had hair the same shade of blond and the bluest eyes Amanda had ever seen. His face was perfectly sculpted, but considering that he was the son of the Greek goddess Aphrodite, it was to be expected.

The welcoming smile on Julian’s face faded as he caught sight of Hunter.

His jaw went slack.

Amanda turned to see a very similar reaction from Hunter, who stood stock-still.

“Julian of Macedon?” Hunter asked in disbelief.

“Kyrian of Thrace?”

Before she could move, the two men grabbed each other like long-lost brothers. Her arm was snatched upward as Kyrian hugged him.

“Oh gods!” Julian gasped. “Is it really you?”

“I can’t believe it,” Hunter said as he pulled back and ran a shocked look up and down Julian’s body. “I thought you were dead.”

“Me?” Julian asked. “What about you? I heard the Romans executed you. Dear Zeus, how can you be here?” Julian glanced down and saw the handcuffs. His frown deepened. “What the…?”

“That’s why we’re here,” Amanda said. “We got latched together, and I was hoping you could separate us.”

“They were made by your stepfather,” Hunter added. “Any chance you have a key lying around?”

Julian laughed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. At least this time she’s not an Amazon princess with an irate mother demanding parts of your body be removed.” Julian shook his head like a father scolding a son. “Two thousand years later, and you’re still getting into unbelievable messes.”

Hunter gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Some things never change. Care to indebt me to you again?”

Julian cocked his head. “Last time I counted, I was two favors down to you.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about Prymaria.”

By the expression on Julian’s face, Amanda could tell he hadn’t and she was dying to know what had happened. But there would be time for that later.

First, she wanted her arm free. She jingled the chain, hinting.

Julian stepped back and let them enter his house. “You’re actually in luck,” he said as he led them into the living room.

Grace hadn’t moved from her chair where she now held Vanessa on her lap while Julian’s gorgeous, blond mother sat on the sofa teasing Niklos with a stuffed doll. A tall, dark-haired man sat beside Aphrodite, holding Niklos in his arms and laughing at the two of them.

The Dark-Hunter sucked his breath in sharply at the quaint family scene. Roughly, he pushed Amanda away from him an instant before Aphrodite looked up and cursed.

Before Amanda could process what was going on, Aphrodite threw her arm out and what appeared to be a bolt of lightning came out of her hand and struck Hunter. The blast knocked him off his feet and threw him to the floor, pulling her along with him.

Amanda landed on top of his chest. She saw the burn on his shoulder and smelled the smoldering leather and skin.

She knew his wound had to be excruciating, but he didn’t even react to it. Instead, Hunter quickly removed his sunglasses, pushed her off his chest, and tried to get her as far away from him as he could.

Rising to his feet, he placed himself between her and Aphrodite.

“How dare you!” Aphrodite shrieked while fury contorted her beautiful face. Her eyes narrowed, she left the couch and stalked toward Hunter like a deadly beast of prey. “You know you are not to be in our presence.”

Julian grabbed Aphrodite before she could reach them. “Mother, stop! What are you doing?”

She glared at Julian. “You dare bring a Dark-Hunter before me? You know it is forbidden!”

Frowning, Julian turned to look at Hunter. Disbelief was etched on his face.

Hunter glanced at Amanda over his shoulder. “You’re about to be free, little one,” he whispered.

Aphrodite raised her hand.

Terrified, Amanda realized Aphrodite meant to kill him. No! The word caught in her throat while her heart raced in panic.

Julian caught his mother’s wrist before she could blast Hunter again.

“No, Mom,” Julian snapped. “Dark-Hunter or not, he happens to be the only man who ever stood guard at my back while everyone else prayed for my death. You kill him, and I will never forgive you for it.”

Aphrodite’s face turned to stone.

Julian let go of her hand. “I have never, in my entire life, asked you for anything. But I’m asking you now, as your son, help him. Please.”

Aphrodite looked from Julian to Hunter. The indecision in her eyes was tangible.

“Hephaestus?” Julian asked the man on the couch. “Will you free them?”

“It is forbidden,” he said gruffly, “and you know it. Dark-Hunters are soulless and beyond us.”

“It’s all right, Julian,” Hunter said quietly. “Just ask her not to let the blast go through me and hit the woman.”

It was only then Aphrodite noticed Amanda. Her gaze fell to the cuffs.

“Mom?” Julian asked again.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers and the handcuffs disappeared.

“Thank you,” Julian said.

“I did it only to help the human female,” Aphrodite said grimly before returning to the sofa. “The Dark-Hunter is on its own.”

Hunter said a quiet thanks to Julian. Then, he turned and started for the door.

“Kyrian, wait,” Julian said, stopping him. “You can’t go out there hurt.”

The Dark-Hunter’s face was stoic. “You know the Code, adelfos. I walk alone.”

“Not tonight, you don’t.”

“If he stays,” Aphrodite said, “we have to leave.”

Julian looked back at his mother and nodded. “I know, Mom. Thanks again for helping him. I’ll see you later.”

Aphrodite vanished in a flash of light. Hephaestus set Niklos down, then evaporated, too.

“Julian?” Grace called from her chair. “Is it safe to let go of Vanessa now?”

“Yes,” he said.

Amanda watched the sad look on Hunter’s face as the twins came running toward their father.

Niklos took a happy detour to her, jabbering as he held his arms out. Amanda picked him up and cuddled him close before kissing the top of his soft, blond curls.

Bouncing in her arms, he laughed and hugged her.

Vanessa made straight for Hunter in true Vanessa form. The little darling knew no strangers. She handed him the half-eaten cookie in her hand. “Cook-ie?” she asked in her broken, baby speech.

Kneeling before her, Hunter smiled tenderly as he took it from her outstretched hand. He brushed a gentle palm over the toddler’s dark hair.

“Thank you, sweeting,” he said softly before handing the cookie back to her. “But I’m not hungry.”

Vanessa squealed and threw herself into his arms.

If Amanda lived an eternity, she would never forget the desperate, aching look on Hunter’s face as he held Vanessa to his chest. It was one of such longing. Of pain. The look of a man who knew he held something precious in his arms that he never wanted to let go of.

He closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against the top of Vanessa’s head as he balled his fist against her back and held her tight. “Gods, Julian, you always made such beautiful babies.”

Julian didn’t say anything as Grace came forward. But Amanda saw the anguish in Julian’s eyes while he watched his friend and his daughter.

The two of them locked gazes.

Something passed between them, some shared nightmare Amanda knew nothing about.

Julian took Grace’s hand. “Grace, this is my friend Kyrian of Thrace. Kyrian, this is my wife.”

Like a graceful black panther coming out of its deadly crouch, Hunter rose to his feet with Vanessa cradled gently in his arms. “I’m honored to meet you, Grace.”

“Thank you,” Grace said. “I have to say the same about you. Julian’s talked about you so much that I feel like I know you.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes on Julian. “Considering how often he censured my behavior, I shudder to think what he’s told you about me.”

Grace laughed. “Nothing too bad. Is it true you once incited an entire bordello into—”

“Julian!” Hunter snapped. “I can’t believe you told her that.”

Completely unabashed, Julian shrugged Hunter’s irritability off. “Ingenuity under pressure was always your forte.”

Grace gasped, then put her hand against her distended stomach. Julian reached out and took her arm, watching her worriedly.

Taking deep breaths, Grace rubbed her stomach and offered them a tentative smile. “Sorry, the baby kicks like a mule.”

Hunter stared at Grace’s belly, and a strange light came into his eyes. For an instant, Amanda could swear they glowed.

“It’s another boy,” he said quietly, his voice distant.

“How did you know?” Grace asked in surprise as she continued to run her hand over her stomach. “I just found out yesterday.”

“He can feel the baby’s soul,” Julian said quietly. “It’s one of the protective powers of a Dark-Hunter.”

Hunter looked to Julian. “This one is going to be strong-willed. He’s loving and giving, but completely reckless.”

“Reminds me of someone else I once knew,” Julian said.

The words seemed to haunt Hunter.

“C’mon,” Julian said, taking Vanessa from Hunter and setting her down even though she squealed in protest. “I need to get you upstairs and tend that wound.”

Amanda stood in the hallway, unsure of what she should do. She had a million questions she wanted answered, and if not for Hunter’s wound, she’d be on her way upstairs right now asking them all. But Julian was right. That vicious-looking wound needed tending.

With a wistful glance to the stairs, she turned back to Grace. “You’re amazingly calm given all this chaos. Gods poofing out, people coming in wearing bloody clothes, and getting blasted in your foyer. I would think by now you’d be freaking out, especially given your condition.”

Grace laughed as she herded the crying Vanessa back into the living room. “Well, over the last few years, I’ve gotten rather used to Greek gods poofing in and out. As well as other things I don’t want to think about. Being married to Julian has definitely been an education in staying calm.”

Amanda laughed halfheartedly as she glanced toward the stairs and again wondered about her enigmatic Dark-Hunter. “Is Hunter—or Kyrian—a god, too?”

“I don’t know. From the things Julian has said, I always assumed Kyrian was a man, but I’m as much in the dark as you are.”

As Grace sat down, Amanda heard the men talking through the baby monitor.

Grace reached to turn it off.

“Please, wait.”

Amanda took a seat and played with Niklos while she listened to the men above.

*   *   *

“Damn, Kyrian,” Julian said as soon as Kyrian handed him his shirt. “You’ve got more scars on you than my father had.”

Kyrian let out a deep breath while he gently probed the burn on his shoulder from Aphrodite’s blast.

The two of them were alone in the twins’ nursery at the end of the upstairs hallway. Kyrian squinted against the bright yellow teddy-bear wallpaper that hurt his light-sensitive eyes and reached for his sunglasses.

Julian must have remembered his ancient Greek mythology because he turned out the overhead lights and turned on the small nursery lamp that bathed the room in a soothing dull glow.

Weak from his pain, Kyrian noticed that his reflection in the mirror was only barely there. An inability to cast reflections was one of the camouflage benefits bestowed on all Dark-Hunters. The only way for them to have a reflection was to force it from within their own mind. Something that was hard to do when they were wounded or excessively tired.

He stepped back from the white-painted dresser and met Julian’s curious gaze. “Two thousand years of combat tend to take a toll on the body.”

“You always had more balls than brains.”

An eerie chill went up Kyrian’s spine at those familiar words. He couldn’t count the times Julian had said that to him in Classical Greek.

How he had missed his friend and mentor over the centuries. Julian had been the only man he’d ever listened to. One of the few men he’d actually respected.

Kyrian rubbed his arm. “I know, but the funny thing is I can always hear your voice in my head begging me for patience.” He deepened his tone and adopted Julian’s rougher-edged Spartan accent. “‘Damn, Kyrian, can’t you ever think before you react?’”

Julian fell silent.

Kyrian knew what was going through Julian’s mind. The same bittersweet memories that tugged at him at night whenever he paused long enough to dwell on the past.

They were images of a world that had long ago ceased to exist. Of people and family who were nothing more than vague memories and lost feelings.

Their world had been a special one. Its primitive grace a warmth in their hearts. Even now, Kyrian could smell the oil from the lamps that had once lit his home. Feel the cool, fragrant Mediterranean breeze blowing through his villa.

In an odd contrast to Kyrian’s thoughts, Julian dug around the small first-aid kit for a modern ice pack.

Finding it, Julian popped the seal to release the cooling gel, then held it against Kyrian’s shoulder.

Kyrian hissed as the ice touched his throbbing skin.

“I’m sorry about that blast,” Julian said. “Had I known…”

“It’s not your fault. You had no way of knowing I’d traded my soul. It’s not exactly how I start out conversations. Hi, I’m Kyrian. I have no soul. What about you?”

“You’re not funny.”

“Sure I am, you just never appreciated my sense of humor.”

“That’s because you would only let it out when we were one step away from death.”

Kyrian shrugged, then wished he hadn’t as pain sliced down his arm. “What can I say? I live to tease old Apollyon.” Kyrian took the pack out of Julian’s hand and stepped back. “So what happened to you? I was told Scipio had you and your family assassinated.”

Julian scoffed. “You know better. It was Priapus who killed my family. After I found them dead, I had a ‘Kyrian’ moment where I went after him.”

Kyrian arched a brow at that. To his knowledge, Julian had never had an impulsive moment in his entire life. The man was forever calm and collected, no matter the turmoil. It had been one of the things Kyrian liked best about him. “You did something rash?”

“Yes, and I paid for it.” He folded his arms over his chest and he met Kyrian’s gaze. “Priapus cursed me into a scroll. I spent two thousand years as a sex slave before my wife freed me.”

Kyrian exhaled in disbelief. He had heard of such curses. The pain of them was excruciating and his proud friend must have had a hard time of it. Julian had never been one to let anyone rule his life. Not even the gods.

“And you called me insane,” Kyrian said. “At least I only antagonized the Romans. You went after the pantheon.”

Julian handed him a tube of burn ointment. When he spoke, his voice was low and thick. “I was wondering, after I left, what happened to…”

Kyrian looked up and saw the agony in Julian’s eyes, and he knew what was too painful for his friend to even mention.

Even now, he could feel his own grief over the death of Julian’s son and daughter. With blond hair and rosy cheeks, they had been beautiful and vivacious beyond description.

They alone had made Kyrian’s heart ache with envy.

Gods, how he’d wanted his own children, his own family. Every time he’d seen Julian at home, he had yearned to have such a life.

It was all he’d ever truly wanted. A peaceful hearth, children to love, and a wife who loved him. Such simple things, really. Yet they had forever eluded his grasp.

Now, as a Dark-Hunter, such wishes were an impossibility.

Kyrian couldn’t imagine the horror Julian must still feel every time he thought of his children. He doubted if any man had ever loved his children more than Julian had. Indeed, he remembered the time five-year-old Atolycus had replaced the horsehair in Julian’s helm with feathers as a gift for his father before they rode out to battle.

Julian had been one of the most feared commanders of the Macedonian army, yet rather than hurt his son’s feelings, he had proudly worn his son’s gift in front of all his men.

No one had dared laugh. Not even Kyrian.

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze from Julian’s. “I buried Callista and Atolycus in the orchard overlooking the sea where they used to play. Penelope’s family took care of her, and I sent Iason’s body back to his father.”

“Thank you.”

Kyrian nodded. “It was the least I could do. You were like a brother to me.”

Julian gave a halfhearted laugh. “I guess that explains why you went out of your way to annoy me all the time.”

“Someone had to. Even at twenty-three, you were too serious and stern.”

“Unlike you.”

Kyrian could only vaguely remember being the man Julian had known all those centuries before. He’d been carefree and battle-ready. Hot-blooded and pigheaded.

It was a wonder Julian hadn’t killed him. The man’s patience knew no limits.

“My glorious days of misspent youth,” Kyrian said wistfully.

Looking at his shoulder, Kyrian spread the soothing salve over the burn. It stung, but he was used to physical pain, and he had suffered worse injuries than this tiny ache.

Julian leveled a probing stare at him. “The Romans took you because of me, didn’t they?”

Kyrian paused at the remorse in Julian’s eyes. Then he returned to spreading the ointment over the burn. “You were always too hard on yourself, Julian. It wasn’t your fault. After you were gone, I went on a bloodthirsty crusade against their forces. I made my own destiny in that regard, and it had nothing to do with you.”

“But had I been there, I could have kept them from taking you.”

Kyrian snorted at that. “You were good at pulling me out of trouble, no doubt about it. But not even you could have saved me from myself. Had you been there, the Romans would have just had another Macedonian commander to crucify. Trust me. You were much better off in that scroll than meeting the fate Scipio and Valerius had in mind for us.”

Still, Kyrian saw his friend’s guilt and he wished he could give Julian absolution.

“What happened?” Julian asked. “Historical accounts say Valerius captured you in battle. But I can’t believe that. Not the way you fought.”

“And history says you were killed by Scipio’s assassins. Victors make their own versions of truth.”

For the first time in centuries, Kyrian allowed his thoughts to turn to that fateful day in the past.

He clenched his teeth as a wave of rage and agony washed over him anew and he remembered all too well why he had banished those memories to the farthest corner of his mind. “You know, the Fates are treacherous bitches. I wasn’t taken by Valerius, I was handed over, gift-wrapped.”

Julian frowned. “How?”

“My little Clytemnestra. While you and I were out fighting the Romans, my wife was at home welcoming them into her bed.”

Julian’s face paled. “I can’t believe Theone would do that to you after all you did for her.”

“No good deed goes unpunished.”

Julian scowled at the bitterness he heard in Kyrian’s voice. This wasn’t the same man he’d known in Macedonia. Kyrian of Thrace had always been fun-loving and lighthearted.

The man before him now was jaded. Guarded. Suspicious and almost cold.

“Is her betrayal why you became a Dark-Hunter?” Julian asked.

“Yes.”

Julian closed his eyes as he felt compassion and anger for his friend. Over and over in his mind, he could see Kyrian the way he’d been all those centuries before. His human eyes had always been laughing, mischievous. Kyrian had loved life in a way very few people ever did.

Generous in spirit, kind in nature, and courageous of heart, Kyrian had even managed to win Julian over and he had truly wanted to hate the spoiled, arrogant brat.

But hating Kyrian had been impossible.

“What did Valerius do to you?” Julian asked.

Kyrian drew a deep breath. “Trust me, you don’t ever want the exact details.”

Julian saw Kyrian flinch as if some memory flashed in his mind. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kyrian said sharply.

Julian’s thoughts turned to Kyrian’s wife. Small and blond, Theone had been more beautiful than Helen of Troy. Julian had seen her only once, and then at a distance. Even so, he had known instantly what attracted Kyrian to her. She had possessed an irresistible aura of grace and sexual expertise.

Barely twenty-two when he met her, Kyrian had fallen in love instantly with the woman who was eight years his senior. No matter what any of them said about her, Kyrian had never listened. He’d loved that woman with every fiber of his body and soul.

“What of Theone?” Julian asked. “Did you ever find out why she did it?”

Kyrian tossed the salve back into the bag. “She said she did it because she was afraid I couldn’t protect her.”

Julian cursed.

“My thoughts were somewhat stronger,” Kyrian said quietly. “You know, I lay there for weeks trying to figure out what it was about me she hated so much that she could hand me over to my worst enemy. I never knew I was that big an asshole.”

Kyrian clenched his teeth as he remembered the way his wife had looked when they had started his execution. She had met his gaze levelly, without even the tiniest bit of remorse.

It had been then he’d known that even though he had given her only the very best of himself, the whole of his heart and soul, she had never given him anything of her. Not even her kindness. If only she’d had one flash of regret in her eyes, one tiny bit of sorrow …

But only morbid curiosity had darkened her face.

It had torn his heart asunder. If she couldn’t love him after all he had given, then he must truly be unlovable.

His father had been right all along.

“No woman can ever love a man of your standing and wealth. Face it. All you will ever be, boy, is a hefty purse.”

To this day, his heart wept from the truth of it. Never again would he allow a woman that much hold over him. He refused to let love or anything else blind him from what he needed to do. His duty was all that mattered.

Now more than ever before.

“I am so sorry,” Julian breathed.

Kyrian shrugged. “We’re all sorry for something.” He reached for his torn, bloodied shirt.

“Listen,” Julian said, stopping him, “why don’t you take a shower and let me loan you some clothes?”

“I have a hunt to finish.”

“No offense, Kyrian, but you look like hell. Granted it’s been a long time since I fought, but I know how much easier it is with a full stomach and a hot bath.”

Kyrian hesitated.

“Fifteen minutes?”

“Make it quick.”

*   *   *

Kyrian let the soothing water slide over his battered body. The night was still young, but he was tired already. His shoulder throbbed and ached and his side wasn’t much better.

Yet what held his attention was the woman downstairs.

Why was he so attracted to her? He had saved countless humans over the centuries. He had felt nothing for them other than a passing curiosity.

And yet this woman with open, honest eyes and a beguiling smile tugged at a heart he had banished centuries ago. He didn’t need that. Dark-Hunters were forbidden to take steady lovers. Out of necessity, their sexual encounters were relegated to one-night stands.

They were reborn to walk alone through time. Each of them knew it. They had sworn themselves to it.

Never before had it bothered him.

There had only been one other time in his long life that he had felt this strange giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach when a woman smiled at him.

He cursed at the reminder.

“Oh, come on, Kyrian,” he said as he bathed himself. “Get out of the house, kill Desiderius, and go home. Forget you ever saw her.”

Pain cut through him at the very thought of never seeing her again.

Still, he knew what he had to do. This was his life and he loved the night he was bound by oath to. His duties were his family. His loyal oath his heart.

His job was his love, and it would remain that way for eternity.

*   *   *

“Amanda?”

Forcing her thoughts away from her handsome Dark-Hunter, Amanda looked to where Grace was seated in the armchair.

“Would you mind going up to the babies’ room and getting a diaper for me?” Grace asked. “If I walk up those stairs again, I might not come back down.”

She laughed. “Sure. Be right back.”

Amanda went up the stairs, then headed down the hallway. She passed the bathroom at the same time Hunter came out of it, wrapping a towel about his waist.

They collided. Hunter put his hands on her shoulders to steady her, his eyes widening a degree as he recognized her.

Amanda froze as she realized her silver charm bracelet had gotten tangled in one of the terry-cloth loops.

Worse, the sight of all that lush, tawny skin and the feel of his strong hands on her body made her mouth water for a taste of him.

Her heart hammered at the sight of all the lean power and strength. At the smell of his warm, clean skin. His wet hair was slicked back from a face so well sculpted that she doubted any man could ever be more handsome.

He fixed those dark eyes with sinfully long eyelashes on her. The raw hunger in them made her hot and shivery. He looked as if he could devour her, and in truth, she wanted to be devoured by him. Completely. Utterly.

And with relish.

“Now, this is interesting,” Hunter said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Amanda didn’t know what to do as she stood there with her wrist dangerously close to the sudden bulge under the towel. Why was it they kept getting attached?

Her gaze slid over the multitude of scars covering his body and she couldn’t help wondering how many of them were from the torture he’d mentioned to Julian.

“Most of them,” he whispered as he moved one hand over to cup her neck in his hand. She felt his fingers stroking her hair. His grip on her shoulder tightened ever so slightly.

“What?” she asked, looking up.

“Most of them are from the Romans.”

She frowned. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

“I’m eavesdropping on your thoughts much the same way you listened to me and Julian.”

A chill went down her spine as she considered his psychic powers. “You can do that?”

He nodded, but he wasn’t looking at her, he was staring at his hand in her hair as if he were committing the texture and feel of it to memory.

His gaze returned to hers so fast it actually made her gasp. “And in answer to the question you’re too afraid to think, all you have to do is move your arm and you’ll know.”

“Know what?”

“If I look as yummy without the towel as I do with it.”

Her face flamed at the way he used her own words to describe exactly what she was too terrified to think.

Before she could move, he released her and dropped the towel to hang from her bracelet.

Amanda gaped at the sight of him completely naked before her. His hard, well-toned body was perfectly sculpted. And she quickly learned that his skin was golden all over. It wasn’t a tan, it was his natural skin color.

She wanted him with a desperate need.

All she could think of was taking him into the bedroom and pulling him on top of, over, and then under her for the rest of the night.

Oh, the things she wanted to do to this man.

A half-smile hovered on the edges of his lips, and by the light in his eyes, she knew he was reading her thoughts. Again.

He leaned forward, his face just to the side of hers. His hot breath fell against her neck, scorching her. “Ancient Greeks never had a problem with public nudity,” he whispered in her ear.

Her breasts tightened.

Slowly, he lifted his hand so that he could tilt her chin up. His gaze held hers enthralled as he appeared to search her mind for something.

Before she could move, he lowered his lips to hers.

Amanda moaned at the contact. This kiss was different from his last one. This one was gentle. Tender.

And it made her burn.

He left her lips and trailed a blazing path down her jaw to her neck, his tongue laving her skin ever so lightly. She wrapped her arms around his bare shoulders and surrendered her weight to him.

“You are so very tempting,” he whispered, then traced the curve of her ear with his tongue. “But I have a job to do and you hate all things not human. And everything paranormal.” He pulled back and gave her a wistful look. “Pity.”

He freed his towel from her bracelet, tossed it over his shoulder, then headed to the bedroom. Amanda clenched her teeth at the sight of that luscious, gorgeous backside.

Her body on fire, she watched until he closed the door behind him.

Suddenly, she remembered the diaper.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Hunter opened the door, tossed her one, then closed it again.

*   *   *

Kyrian leaned against the closed door as he fought the raging need inside him. It was raw and vicious, and it made him ache for things he knew he could never have.

Things that could only hurt him more. And he had been hurt enough to last ten thousand lifetimes.

He had to put her out of his thoughts.

But even as he stood there, the loneliness of his life settled down on him with a vengeance.

“You let your heart lead you far too often, boy. One day, it’s going to lead you to ruin.” He winced at his father’s warning in his head. Neither of them had any idea at that time just how true those words would one day prove.

I am a Dark-Hunter.

That was what he needed to focus on. He was the only thing standing between Amanda and annihilation.

Desiderius was out there and he must stop him.

But what he really wanted to do was go downstairs, scoop Amanda up in his arms, and carry her back to his house where he could spend the entire night exploring every inch of her body with his lips, his hands. His tongue.

“I am such a fool,” he snarled, forcing himself to dress in the clothes Julian had left for him.

He would think no more of her or of his past. He had a higher calling. One that couldn’t be ignored.

He was a protector. And he would live and die as a protector, which meant that physical comforts such as a woman like Amanda were strictly off limits to him.

A few minutes later, dressed in Julian’s jeans and a black V-neck sweater, he left the room with his leather coat over his arm, and went downstairs where Julian, Grace, Amanda, and the children were waiting.

Julian handed him a small paper sack.

“Gee,” Kyrian said as he took it, “thanks, Dad. I promise to be a good boy and play nice with the other kids.”

Julian laughed. “Smart-ass.”

“Better than a dumb-ass.” Kyrian sobered as he looked at Amanda and a burning wave of desire scorched him. What was it about her that made him unable to look at her without wanting to taste that mouth? Feel her warm body in his arms?

Kyrian cleared his throat. “Make sure she stays here until morning. The Daimons can’t enter without an invitation.”

“What about tomorrow night?” Grace asked.

“Desiderius should be dead by then.”

Julian nodded.

Kyrian turned to leave, but before he could reach the door, Amanda stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Thank you,” she said.

He inclined his head to her.

Leave. Because if he didn’t, he just might yield to that demanding need inside him.

He looked past Amanda to Julian’s wife. “It was nice meeting you, Grace.”

“You too, Commander.”

As he started out the door, Amanda caught him again and turned him about. Before he knew what she was doing, she kissed him on the cheek.

“You be careful,” she whispered as she pulled away.

Stunned, he could do nothing more than blink. But what touched him most was the concern he saw in her crystal-blue eyes, the concern he felt in her heart. She really didn’t want him hurt.

Desiderius is waiting.

The thought tore through his mind. He had to leave.

Yet walking away from her was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

“Have a nice life, Cupcake,” he said to her.

“Cupcake?” Amanda asked in an offended tone.

He smiled. “After the ‘buff stud in black leather’ remark, I figured I owed you one.” He patted her hand, then reluctantly removed it from his arm. “It’s almost eight, you better go call your sister.”

Kyrian let go of her hand and instantly felt the vacancy.

He exchanged a knowing look with Julian. This would be the last time they saw each other and they both knew it. “Good-bye, adelfos.”

“Good-bye, little brother,” Julian said.

Kyrian turned around, opened the door, and made his solitary way to his car.

Once inside, he couldn’t resist looking back. Though he couldn’t see Amanda, he could feel her on the other side of the door, staring after him.

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been sorry to see him go. Nor could he recall ever feeling this insane need to keep a woman with him at any cost.