“Diomêdês even seemed baffled over how unmerciful he was to you.”
“He showed mercy. We’re still alive, aren’t we?”
“Hilarious. But still, you can’t believe what he did was justified. For one misstep? After all these years.”
“I humiliated him. Disobeyed him. Are you trying to tell me that Diomêdês would not do the same?”
Leo thought he heard a shuffling sound, and then that all-too-familiar voice stated, “I’m lucky that’s all he did.”
Before Leo could wrap his head around the words being said, a voice behind him asked, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to eavesdrop?”
Shit. Oh, shit.
That voice—it was much closer now. In fact, he would say that it was inside the room with him.
But how is that possible?
Leo didn’t dare move other than to swallow the nervous gulp of air he’d taken. He didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to know who, or what, was now with him in a room that had no doors.
“I apologize that it took me so long. I’ve been somewhat…detained these past few days. I trust that Isadora has kept you fed.”
The one-sided, oh-so-polite conversation was odd, to say the least, and as Leo remained facing the wall, he wondered if it would be his last.
“Could you perhaps turn around, file mou? It would make this much more civilized.”
Greek. Leo instantly recognized the words—my friend. The man addressing him had slipped into Greek—just like he had in the nightmare. Which might explain the coins on the wall. He filed that piece of information away and slowly turned, not wanting to be “punished” for disobeying.
When he came to a stop, he found himself face-to-face with the stranger from his nightmare. His breath caught in his throat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. No. This time, it was because he was allowing himself his first real look at the man.
Attractive wasn’t nearly the right word to describe him. This man—he was divine.
“There. That’s much better. I always prefer conversing face-to-face. Don’t you?”
Leo continued to stare as he took in every feature that he could see.
A brooding brow emphasized the catlike shape of his green eyes but didn’t detract from the strength of his face. Rather, it added a predatory feel as the eyebrows narrowed on him while he continued his inspection.
Leo anxiously licked his parched lips. He knew on a fundamental level he should be afraid of this man. He’d been holding him prisoner for nearly two weeks. But as he continued to look at him, his body was having different ideas altogether.
Stop it, he admonished himself. Stop thinking with your dick, Chapel. Just because he’s hot as hell doesn’t mean shit. He’s not a good guy.
But his body wasn’t listening.
The classic Roman nose caught his eye next. It was perfectly proportioned for the man’s face and sat between high cheekbones that might have made some look feminine, but not this guy. They only enhanced an already stunning appearance. His lips were exactly how Leo imagined the devil would create them—so a lesser man would be tempted to sin. He had a full, pouting lower lip and a bowed top one, and the stubble lining his jaw and upper lip highlighted them in a way that made Leo very aware of his unwanted desires.
“Are you choosing not to talk to me, human? Or do you need an extra minute to decide if talking is what you actually wish to do?”
Leo blinked, snapping himself out of the trancelike state he’d been in. Then he lifted his chin and forced himself to speak for the first time in days. “Who are you? What do you want?” And then it occurred to him to ask the one question of utmost importance. “Are you going to hurt me?”
The eyes pinning him to the wall like a thumbtack never wavered. “That’s an interesting question. And a couple of days ago, I would have said, ‘Wrong time, wrong place.’ But things have changed since then.”
“What do you mean?” Leo asked, well aware he hadn’t answered his question regarding his well-being. “I don’t understand any of this.”
The man tilted his head to the side, and the coppery highlights in his dark hair shone when the candlelight caught them in their glow. “You don’t remember, file mou?”
Without thinking, Leo said, “Stop calling me that.”
“Calling you what?”
“Your friend,” he stated. “We’re not friends. I don’t even know who you are or why I’m here.” His voice got louder as the panic set in all over again.
“You understand Greek?”
Leo bit his bottom lip, deciding that he’d said more than he should have. That clearly hadn’t been the right response, however, because with the accuracy of well-wielded whip, a frigid hand clamped around his throat and drew him forward, effortlessly raising him off the ground. His feet dangled, and his breath choked him in gasping pants as he flailed around, reaching out with both hands to try to free himself from the unrelenting hold.
“I asked you a question, human. Answer me.”
The face Leo had been admiring only seconds ago began to morph. The forehead furrowed as suspicious eyes studied him, and then white teeth flashed in a cruel sneer as the man’s top lip curled back and two wicked sharp fangs appeared. The sheer beauty of him altered to that of a deadly monster in the blink of an eye, and everything came crashing back.
It was true.
The nightmare Leo had started to believe had been a delusion hadn’t been a delusion at all. He had been chased and attacked by a vampire. By this vampire. And as he stared wide-eyed at the creature holding him in midair, Leo knew that whatever he did next would either secure his survival or guarantee his death.
With an overwhelming sense of misplaced courage, he answered, “No.”
Without warning, the hand around his neck hurled him across the room to the floor and the candlelight vanished, plunging them into complete darkness. Before he could get his feet under him to stand, a warm breath brushed by his ear.
“Wrong answer.”
There was nowhere for him to go as his nightmare crouched in front of him and took his jaw between his fingers, bringing his face around to meet his. Those green eyes flared in the pitch dark and his teeth gleamed white, and all Leo could think was how utterly magnificent he was in his savagery.
THERE WAS A distinct shift in the air, and Alasdair immediately picked up on the emotion. The fear he’d sensed when the man had remembered what he was had vanished, and in its place was a much more curious one—one he could use later.
When he let his tongue come out and slide across the lip he’d pulled back over his teeth, Alasdair discovered that the man looking back at him wasn’t scared. He was aroused.
“You continue to surprise me, for a human. And that takes some doing with the years I have been alive. I figured, after your realization, you would be either crying or praying. That’s usually what occurs when one such as yourself discovers we exist.” He could hear the rapid heartbeat thumping inside the chest inches from him, and as he shifted closer, the man remained rigid. “But prayer won’t help you down here, and tears make mortals appear weaker than they already are. And our kind preys on the weak.”
The human’s face registered shock, and when their eyes clashed, Alasdair’s own arousal started to surface. He’d made a vow during those agonizing hours following his punishment that he would unravel the secret as to how this man had debilitated him. And for that reason alone, he would not dispose of him any time soon. Neither would anyone else, for that matter.
“If you’re going to kill me,” the man said bravely, “just do it.”