It had never bothered him before.
Tonight, the pain was almost enough to break him.
He hated these feelings inside him. Hated needing her. He'd long ago banished his emotions and he preferred to live that way; in a safe cocoon free of turmoil.
"I have to get her out of my mind." He entered his office and went to log on to the Dark-Hunter.com Web site.
His instant messenger program was blinking with incoming messages and as always, his e-mail was filled with notes from other Dark-Hunters. Technology was a wonderful thing. Being able to communicate with each other was a true godsend. It made dealing with the long nights more bearable and it allowed them to exchange important information.
Kyrian sat in his black leather chair and double-clicked the flashing icon. It was a note from Acheron.
Nick called, said Desiderius had kicked your butt. You okay?
Kyrian clenched his teeth, then typed in a response. "I'm going to kill him for that. I'm fine. Desiderius is down a bolt-hole. What do you know of him?"
He's the one who took out Cromley a few years back, so you're dealing with a major power. I talked with Cromley's Squire and he said Desiderius took a tremendous amount of pleasure from messing with Cromley's head. D. ended up killing Cromley in a manner best not mentioned. Personally, I wish D. would come after me, I need a good dance partner. My Daimons have lame legs.
Kyrian laughed at Ash's dry wit. The man truly had no patience for lame Daimons. "Talon said they're using astral blasts. Have you ever come across that?"
In eleven thousand years, I can honestly say ... hell, no. This is a first. I've called in the Oracles and they are communing with the Fates. But you know how they are. I'm sure it'll come back as "When the sky is green, and the earth turns black, the Daimons will give you lots of flack. To kill the great awful one you seek, you'll have to find something unique." Or some bullshit like that. I really hate Oracles. If I wanted to play mind games, I'd buy a Rubik's Cube.
"I don't know, Ash, you're pretty good at that. Sure you don't want to take up an Oracle position?"
Picture this, General, my middle finger is extended all the way up, and aimed right at you. Now let me work. I have Daimons to track, Dark-Hunters to antagonize, and women to seduce. Talk to you later.
No longer in the mood to talk, Kyrian logged off the Dark-Hunter site. He opened his e-mail, but he didn't really want to read it, either.
What he wanted was beyond his ability to claim.
Against his will, he wandered down the hallway, then down the stairs.
Before he realized what he was doing, he found himself outside Amanda's room. He pressed his hand against the dark wood door and splayed his fingers. Closing his eyes, he could see her sitting in bed, her long legs bare beneath his T-shirt.
Fire pounded through his blood. He could feel her pain at the loss of her house. Feel her fear as she thought of Desiderius hurting her sister, and her worry over Tabitha's roommate.
Worse, he could sense the tears she was holding back. She was so strong. So capable. He'd never known a woman like her before.
His dream from the morning tore through him. He could still feel her in his arms.
"I want you."
He'd give anything to hear her say those words for real. To see her look at him as if she could devour him.
Right now, the only thing he wanted to do was to kick open the door and make love to her. To have her touch him. Hold him.
Welcome him.
But it wasn't meant to be.
His heart heavy, he forced himself to leave her.
He had work to do.
*
Amanda glanced at the clock. Twelve-thirty. Normally she would be fast asleep by now. But to Hunter the night would still be young.
She wondered what he did during the wee hours. Surely he didn't kill Daimons every night. There weren't that many of them, were there?
Before she realized what she was doing, she got out of bed and wandered through the enormous house. She didn't know where Hunter was. He hadn't bothered to show her his room while he had given her the tour.
But her instinct told her his room would be upstairs. Probably as far away from hers as possible.
She was halfway up the stairs when she heard something odd outside. It was a strange whooshing noise.
Backtracking, she found her way to the dark game room. There was no light, but the moon and stars were so bright outside that she could see a shadowy figure in the atrium. Her first impulse was to call for Hunter; she paused.
There was something very familiar about that figure. Walking closer to the French doors, she recognized Terminator and Hunter. Hunter was dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants. He was tossing a baseball into a net-covered frame that bounced it back to him.
As soon as he threw the ball, Terminator would give chase, then the dog would bound back to Hunter.
She smiled at the sight. Hunter patted Terminator, then returned to tossing the ball.
She started to leave, but couldn't. Instead, she cracked open the door.
Hunter turned instantly. The forgotten ball rebounded and caught him on the head. He hissed as he rubbed his head and Terminator chased after the baseball.
"Did you need something?" he asked, his voice sharp.
I need you to kiss me.
She swallowed. "I just didn't know where you were."
"Now you do."
The ice was back in his voice. This wasn't the Hunter who had been with her a short time ago, this was the Dark-Hunter who had awakened in the factory with her. Guarded. Distant.
And it cut through to her heart. It wasn't just the lump on his head from the baseball making him snappish; his old barriers were back in place. He was pushing her away.
Taking the hint, she nodded. "Yeah, well, good night."
Kyrian watched her leave. He'd wounded her. He could sense it and he hated himself for it.
Call her back.
But to what purpose?
There could never be anything between them. Not even friendship.
Grinding his teeth, he went back to his pitching. As he worked out, he tried to focus on Desiderius. Tried to will the Daimon into his grasp.
It was useless.
Amanda was still with him. It was her face he saw when he closed his eyes. Her scent that permeated his senses.
If he didn't banish her from his thoughts, he would get himself killed. And if he died, Desiderius would go after her.
Growling, he threw the ball against the net. He twirled around to catch it on the rebound, but before his hand made contact, a fierce pain slashed through his skull.
Kyrian cursed. He put the heel of his hand over his right eye, and as he struggled with the pain, an image tore through him.
It was Desiderius.
As the image sharpened, he froze. With amazing clarity, he saw Desiderius kill him.
And he heard Amanda weeping.
CHAPTER 8
After Amanda fell asleep, her dreams drifted for a time like a bizarre, twisting kaleidoscope coalescing without shape or form. Foreign images, people, and places twirled and tumbled in her mind until her head swam from them.
After a while, they became more focused and she could see them clearly. Unknown people greeted her as she walked past them.
It seemed so incredibly real; like a forgotten memory more than a dream. Even though she'd never seen these people before, she knew them by name. Knew things about them only a friend would know.
She heard the sound of men laughing and celebrating. Felt a strange mixture of joy and sadness as she became aware of a faded red tent filled with soldiers wearing ancient armor.
"You were brilliant," an older soldier said, clapping her on the back. She recognized him as her second in command. A man she relied on and one who worshiped her. Dimitri had always looked to her for guidance and strength.
He had a fresh, open wound down the left side of his face, but his old gray eyes sparkled. Though his armo
r was covered in blood, he appeared remarkably unhurt. "It's a pity Julian wasn't here to see this victory. He would have been proud of you today, Commander. I can guarantee all of Rome is weeping this night."
At that moment, she realized the dream wasn't about her.
She was Kyrian ...
Kyrian's face was smudged with sweat, dirt, and blood, his long, leather-bound hair tousled. He had three long, thin braids that fell from his left temple down to the middle of his chest. The man was simply gorgeous and completely human.
His dark green eyes shimmered from victory and he had the carriage of a man who had no equal. Of a man destined for greatness.
Kyrian raised the goblet of wine in his hand and addressed the men in his tent. "I declare this victory for Julian of Macedon. Wherever he is, I know he's laughing at Scipio's defeat."
A loud cheer roared from the men.
Kyrian took a drink, then looked to the older soldier beside him. "It's a pity Valerius wasn't there with Scipio. I was looking forward to facing him, too. But no matter." He lifted his voice so that all the men gathered inside could hear him. "Tomorrow, we march on Rome herself and we'll bring that bitch to her knees."
The men shouted their agreement.
"On the battlefield, with a sword in your hand, you are invincible," the old man said in an awed tone. "By this time tomorrow, you will be ruler of the known world."
Kyrian shook his head. "Andriscus will be ruler of Rome tomorrow. Not I."
The old man looked aghast, then he leaned close to Kyrian's neck and lowered his tone so that only Kyrian could hear him. "There are those who think he is weak. Those who would support you if you decided--"
"No, Dimitri," Kyrian said, cutting him off gently. "I appreciate the thought, but I swore to lead his army for Andriscus and that I shall do until the day I die. I will never betray him."
The look on Dimitri's face showed his confusion. He wasn't sure if he should applaud Kyrian's loyalty or curse it. "You're the only man I know who would turn down the opportunity to rule the world."
Kyrian laughed. "Kingdoms and empires don't bring happiness, Dimitri. Only the love of a good woman and children do that."
"And conquest," Dimitri added.
Kyrian smiled even wider. "Tonight, at least, that appears to be true."
"Commander?"
Kyrian turned toward the voice behind him to see a man cutting a swath through the men in the tent.
The soldier held out a sealed letter. "A courier brought this. It was discovered on a Roman messenger earlier today."
Taking it from him, Kyrian saw the seal of Valerius the Younger on the outside. Curious, he opened the vellum and read it, and with every word, his panic swelled. His heart beat faster. "My horse!" he shouted, running out of the crowded tent. "Saddle my horse."
"Commander?"
He turned to his second in command who had followed him outside. A worried frown creased his tired old brow. "Dimitri, you're in charge until I return. Pull the army back into the hills, away from the Romans until you hear from me. If I'm not back in a week, then lead the men to Punjara and combine forces with Jason."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
A youth came forward with his black stallion. His heart hammering, Kyrian swung himself up into the saddle.
"Where are you off to?" Dimitri asked.
"Valerius is riding to my villa. I'm going to head him off."
Dimitri grabbed the horse's bridle, horrified. "You can't go alone to meet him."
"I have no time to wait for you. My wife is in danger. I will not hesitate." Kyrian wheeled his horse about and spurred it through the camp.
Amanda twisted in bed as she felt Kyrian's rising panic. His need to protect his wife at any cost. The days ran together as he rode furiously, changing horses every time he happened upon a village. He never stopped to rest or eat. He was like a demon possessed, with only one thought on his mind. Theone. Theone. Theone.
He reached his home in the middle of the night. Weary and terrified, he leapt from his horse and pounded on the door for admittance.
An old man pulled open the heavy wooden door. "Your Highness?" he asked in disbelief.
Kyrian pushed past the man, his gaze sweeping his grand foyer looking for signs of hostility. Nothing out of the ordinary met his fearful gaze. Still, he wasn't comforted. Not yet. He would not be calm until he saw her with his own eyes. "Where's my wife?"
The old servant looked confused by the question. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. Finally, he spoke. "In her bed, Highness."
Starving, exhausted, and weak, Kyrian ran down the long, columned corridor toward the back of the house.
"Theone?" he called as he ran, desperate to see her.
A door at the end of the hallway opened. An incredibly beautiful and petite blond woman came to stand in the hallway. She closed the door behind her and swept a chiding glance over Kyrian's dishevelment.
She was alive and unharmed. And she was the most beautiful vision his adoring eyes had ever beheld.
Her long, golden hair was tousled, her cheeks bright pink. She clutched a very thin white sheet over her nude body. "Kyrian?" she asked sharply.
Relief rushed through him and tears filled his eyes. She was alive! Thank the gods. Blinking the tears away, he swept her up into his arms and held her close. Never had he been more grateful to the Fates for their mercy.
"Kyrian," she snapped, bristling under his touch. "Put me down. You smell so bad I can barely breathe. Have you any idea how late it is?"
"Aye," he said through the tight knot in his throat as joy pounded through him. He set her down and cupped her face in his hands. He was so tired he could hardly stand or think, but he wouldn't sleep. Not until she was safe. "And I must get you away from here. Get dressed."
She frowned. "Take me where?"
"To Thrace."
"Thrace?" she asked incredulously. "Are you mad?"
"No. I've received word that the Romans are headed this way. I'm taking you to my father for safekeeping. Now hurry!"
She didn't. Instead, her face darkened dangerously as fury snapped in her gray eyes. "Your father? You've not spoken to him in seven years. What makes you think he'd shelter me?"
"My father will forgive me if I ask it."
"Your father will throw us both out. He made his proclamation quite public. I've been embarrassed enough in my lifetime, I don't need to hear him call me a whore to my face. Besides, I don't want to leave my villa. I like it here."
Kyrian disregarded her words. "My father loves me and will do as I ask. You'll see. Now dress."
She looked past his shoulder. "Polydus?" she said to the old servant who had been waiting all that time behind Kyrian. "Have a bath prepared for your master and bring him food and wine."
"Theone--"
She stopped Kyrian's words by placing a hand on his lips. "Hush, my lord. It's the middle of the night. You look dreadful and you smell even worse. Let us clean you, feed you, and put you to sleep, and then in the morning, we can discuss what needs be done to see me safe."
"But the Romans--"
"Did you see any on your way here?"
"Well ... no."
"Then there can't be any danger at the moment, now can there?"
Too weary to argue, he conceded. "I suppose not."
"Then come." She took him by the hand and led him to a small room off the main corridor.
The next thing Amanda saw was a room lit by a small fire and candles. Kyrian was leaning back in a gilded tub while Theone bathed him.
He captured her hand in his and held it to his whiskered cheek. "You've no idea how much I've missed you. Your touch soothes me like nothing else."
She smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and handed him a cup of wine. "I heard you took Thessaly from the Romans."
"Aye. Valerius was incensed. I can't wait until I march on Rome. I will have her yet, mark my words."
Kyrian drained the cup, then set
it aside. His body burning, he reached for his wife and pulled her into the tub with him.
"Kyrian!" she gasped.
"Shh," he breathed against her lips. "I would have a kiss from you."
She acquiesced, but there was a coldness to her. He could feel it.
"What is wrong, my love?" he asked, pulling back. "You seem so distant tonight. As though your thoughts are somewhere else."
Her face softened as she straddled his waist and took him into her body. "I am not distant. I am tired."
He smiled, then groaned as she moved against him. "Forgive me for waking you. I just wanted to know you were safe. I couldn't live if anything ever happened to you." He cupped her face in his hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. "I will always love you, Theone. You are the very air I breathe."
Kissing her lips, he savored her taste.
She seemed to relax some in his arms as she slowly rode him. All the while her gaze watched him as if she were waiting for something ...
As soon as he climaxed, Kyrian leaned back in the tub to watch her. He was as weak as a newborn whelp. But he was home, and his wife was his strength. His haven.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than a strange buzzing started in his head. A wave of dizziness swept through him.
And in an instant, he knew what she'd done. "Poison?" he gasped.
Theone scrambled off him and left the tub. Hurriedly, she wrapped a towel around herself. "No."
Kyrian tried to get out of the tub, but another wave of dizziness gripped him. He fell back into the water. He couldn't breathe as thoughts wandered randomly through his drugged mind.
But foremost in his mind was the very treachery of the woman he loved. A woman he had given the world to.
"Theone, what have you done to me?"
She lifted her chin as she watched him coldly. "I'm doing what you can't. I'm protecting myself. Rome is the future, Kyrian. Not Andriscus. He will never live to ascend to the Macedonian throne."
Darkness fell.
Amanda groaned as she felt a severe pain lance through her skull. When the light returned, she found Kyrian lying naked against a cold stone slab that was tilted at a forty-five-degree angle. His arms and legs had been secured with ropes to winches.
He glanced around the medium-sized room to an old table set in one corner, the top of which was covered with all manner of torture instruments. A tall, black-haired man stood looking over the table's offerings, his back to Kyrian.