She hadn’t heard, he realized, even as he shivered at her silken touch. Such a surreal moment. She acted as if she knew him…liked him. Baby, he thought, dazed all over again.
No. I still can’t talk. He pushed the words at her, watching for the minutest reaction.
An angry sigh escaped her, and the corner of her lip curled in disgust. “Those bastards. Did they do something to your voice box?” Bastards? No. She’d heard that time. Which meant there were limits. Thank the gods. No one, especially such an innocent human, should have to listen to the evil inside his head. No one, especially such a fragile female, could survive its gloom. Even now, Amun wasn’t sure he could.
“Do you remember what happened?” she asked. “How you got here?”
He shook his head, slow, measured, trying not to open up any more wounds. Problem was, he was utterly covered in abrasions. The smallest action tugged too-tight skin and split scabs.
“Okay, then.” Her next sigh was sorrowful. Her hand remained on him, as if she couldn’t bear to sever contact. “I’ll tell you what I know.”
He nodded to encourage her, winced.
“Be still, baby,” she said, all concerned mother hen and determined commando. “Just listen, okay, and try not to panic.” She drew in a deep breath, then slowly released it. “The Lords of the Underworld have us. We’re in a structure on top of a hill. Their fortress in Buda, maybe? I didn’t see any landmarks to verify my suspicions. Though why they’d risk bringing us here, I don’t know. Last I heard, this was where they were keeping two of the artifacts. You think they’d want us as far away from those as possible.”
The artifacts. There were four, and each was needed to locate, and thereby destroy, Pandora’s box, saving him and his friends from certain death. Besides decapitation and other violent demises, that box was the only thing that could separate man from demon, wiping man from existence and unleashing the then-crazed demons on an unsuspecting world. This woman knew two of the artifacts were here—the All-Seeing Eye and the Cage of Compulsion—yet she expected the Lords to be upset that Amun, a Lord himself, was near them.
She didn’t know he was a Lord, he realized. She thought he was a…Hunter?
Like…her? All that disgust, all that anger directed at the Lords…the notion seemed likely. But, if she knew him, why didn’t she know who—what—he was? And if she was a Hunter, why would his friends have placed her inside his room?
His gaze skidded to the hole in the wall. Maybe his friends didn’t know she was here. But…
She thought she knew him, and he definitely recognized her. At least somewhat. He knew her name. Haidee. Could picture her face softened by sleep, so lovely. He knew they’d met somewhere, interacted in some way, but not where or when.
For once, his demon wasn’t spewing out answers.
This was so damn confusing, and his weakened condition wasn’t helping. Maybe she had tricked him into thinking they’d met, so he’d be more inclined to help her. But again, how? Why? The artifacts? Would anyone except a Hunter be after them?
His stomach twisted into little knots. There was only one way to find out the truth about this beautiful woman whose presence alone both muddled and cleared his brain. That way was dangerous, the possible consequences severe.
He didn’t want to go that route, but he didn’t feel he had any other choice. Normally he could read the thoughts of those around him; so far, he’d heard none of hers, despite the fact that she could hear his. Therefore, he needed to deepen the connection between them, push past any mental shields she might possess and peek into her mind, glimpse her memories.
Amun would be careful. He wouldn’t let his demon wipe her brain clean—the biggest complication of all. Secrets liked to play, to steal memories and leave the victims with nothing but static. Amun would pull away the moment the fiend tried to do so. Unless she proved to be a Hunter, of course; then all bets were off.
Gritting his teeth against the pain he knew he’d feel, Amun lifted his arms. Gods, the sharp lance, the burn, worse than he’d expected. When he’d reached high enough, he allowed his hands to fall onto Haidee’s shoulders.
“Stop whatever you’re doing,” she admonished. “You’re hurting yourself.”
Just that small action caused him to moan and groan inside his head. Need…a moment. Must…
“Must? What do you need, baby? Tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”
Baby, again. She’d “take care” of it, of him, as if she cared. Truly cared. He couldn’t soften, no matter how much he liked the way she treated him. Touch your…temples, he said, guilt suddenly flooding him. He’d just requested her aid for her possible downfall.
Did she have any idea what he could do?
“You getting kinky on me?” she asked with a chuckle. She probably meant to distract him from his pain. She did, just not the way she’d intended. Her jest had his gaze fastening on her lips, imagining the thrust of her tongue inside his mouth.
His body reacted, blood heating, pooling between his legs. Damn it! Just…need…temples.
“Okay, okay. I’ll help you.”
No, she didn’t know. Her fingers wrapped around his wrists, so cool, so welcome—so steady—and lifted without any hesitation. No questions about his motives, his intentions. She trusted him absolutely. When his hands reached her temples, she flattened her palms, pushing his closer, providing skin-to-skin contact.
“Like this?”
Yes. Such faith. Too much. He told himself he was disgusted by that, not delighted. It was a trick to distract him, surely.
Her lashes fluttered closed, and she nibbled on her lush bottom lip. Such straight, white teeth. Once again his body reacted. He wanted those teeth on him…lower…moving up and down on his shaft. He wanted her hands reaching out, tugging at his balls. He wanted her tongue flicking over the slit of his erection, tasting.
I need to get laid, he told himself darkly.
The corner of Haidee’s lips quirked. “Do you now? I’m invited, I hope,” she said with husky entreaty.
Shit. She’d heard. And she wanted to join him. Wanted him deep inside her, rocking them both to satisfaction. Don’t think about that now. He’d forget he needed to learn about her and simply drag her on top of him. Besides, she could be lying, purposely distracting him as he’d suspected.
“I won’t if you won’t,” she said with a warm chuckle.
What?
“Think about having sex.”
Damn it. He had to stop talking to himself. She heard every unshielded thought.
How did his friends stand him? He constantly read their minds, knew their every private—and mostly pornographic—contemplation. They rarely chastised him, however, and never made him feel like a nuisance. He’d always figured they didn’t care. They must have found a way to hide their true feelings from his demon, though. No way they liked his ability.
He owed everyone in this house an apology.
Amun forced his mind to quiet and his own lashes to close. He’d done this a thousand times before, the process as ingrained as breathing. He’d done it for Sabin, his leader. For their cause. He blanked his mind and darkness enveloped him, then he concentrated on his senses. Her skin, cool and soft. Her scent, so earthy. He could hear the rasp of her next exhalation…focused on the chilly breath wafting over him…allowed his demon to reach out…
Colors exploded, chasing away the black. Suddenly images began to take shape. He saw a sky of the brightest azure, a lush green meadow, untouched by time. A scattering of silver stones. Trees missing their leaves, but with sleek, twisted branches. Two little girls running and laughing, playing chase, both wearing lovely pink linen robes, flaxen curls streaming behind them. Sisters. Both possessed hearts practically bursting with love.