His gaze burned her as he sank his hand into her hair. “I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, Xyn. My heart was broken one time too many.”
Her gaze fell down to the tattoo on his arm where he bore the black tears that marked the passing of his loved ones. It was something all Daimons did to honor and remember those they’d lost.
Dipping her head down she kissed his mark. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No!”
She smiled, then nipped his chin.
Urian groaned as she slid her hand down to touch his cock. He felt his powers surge through him. Oh yeah, that was the most incredible pleasure. It’d been so long since anyone else had touched him that he’d forgotten what it felt like.
Capturing her lips, he pressed her hips closer to his.
She gave a low whistle of appreciation as she took him into her hand. Then she traced a line up to his tattoo of his father’s shield pattern. “You’ve changed this, too?”
He nodded. “I made it look more like my father’s.”
“Stryker?”
Laughing, he shook his head. “You’ve missed so much. I’m the son of Styxx, not Stryker. Stryker and I are at war. But I don’t want to talk about hate … not while I’m with you.”
And not when she gave him that look right there that seared him to the core of his soul.
Xyn ran her hungry gaze over his tawny body. Every muscle was a study of sinewy grace and perfection. All man and all hot. His chest was dusted by golden hairs. Not too thick, just enough to be manly and appealing. Goodness, how she’d missed touching a man and being close to one like this.
Urian had always touched her in a way no one had—and not physically. Emotionally. A part of her was still timid to touch him for fear that her dragon powers would kick in and she’d scorch him, but the other part of her was desperate to be held. Just for a little while.
“You don’t like false people, do you?”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “Are you reading my mind?”
“No. It’s strictly from what you’ve said. I told you, I’ve never been able to read your thoughts and I don’t know why.” Which was so odd, because she normally could read those of others. Urian had always been different.
He gave her a cocky grin. “It doesn’t take much to read them right now.” He gave her a scorching once-over.
Xyn laughed until he dipped his fingers into the part of her that craved him most.
Urian stared down at her. A wicked light came into his eyes as he kissed his way down her body. He paused to lave her breasts. Ribbons of heated pleasure burned through her while his fingers continued to tease and play, and delve deep inside her.
Then ever so slowly, he continued south until he replaced his hand with his lips.
Xyn arched her back as her body twitched and ached in response to his masterful touch. Before she could draw another breath, her body shattered as one of the most intense orgasms of her life claimed her.
Still he continued to please her until he wrung another one from her spasming body. She sank her hand in his soft hair, tugging at it as he continued to tease her, over and over.
Urian growled at how good she tasted. It’d been way too long since he last had a woman. Hell, he’d had so little interest in them lately that he’d begun to fear he was broken. But there were no inhibitions or hesitation with her even though he should have them in spades.
They really needed to be focused on other things right now. But he didn’t give a shit. Let them die and the world end. He didn’t care. He needed her more than anything.
Unable to stand it anymore, he pulled back from her. He lifted her hips and drove himself deep inside her body.
She cried out his name.
Smiling, he thrust against her, seeking solace in her warm softness.
Xyn balled her fist in Urian’s soft white hair as she buried her face in his neck to inhale the warm masculine scent of his skin. There was so much power in him, so much skill in the way he filled her and touched her. It was like he knew every way to wring as much pleasure from every thrust as he could. And to be able to have him again like this … it was incredible.
For the first time in centuries, she felt human.
“Harder, baby,” she purred in his ear, wanting him to love her with everything he had. This was the most incredible moment of her life and when he finally came, she joined him.
Completely spent and sated, she leaned back onto the bed while he was still inside her. Her breathing ragged, she kept her legs wrapped around his waist while he stared into her eyes and toyed with her belly button. “That was incredible.”
He flashed a devilish grin. “Glad I could oblige.” He ran his hand around her breast, traced the line of her intricate tattoo, then gave it a light squeeze as he brushed her hardened nipple with his thumb. A smile curved his lips as he remembered when she’d had her tattoo done.
It was of a black sword wrapped with a pink rose for her strength. At the bottom was a redheaded pixielike woman and above her a half dragon rising up to shield and protect her.
The dragon matched his shield.
And beneath the dragon’s wings she’d placed the words, I am woman. Born of Pain. Hear me roar. Done to remind herself that while she was dragon born and capable of extreme and utter violence, she was also capable of mercy and compassion.
But what made him smile were the words that had been added since the last time he’d seen her that went down the back of the sword. “You took my advice?”
She picked his hand up and lifted it to her lips so that she could nip his fingertips. “Only because I wanted something to remind me of you, and I love the way you see me. Don’t agree, mind you. But I love that you think of me that way.”
“That I do.” He kissed the words that were there now. I Am Invincible. Then he shivered as her tongue darted between his fingers. He didn’t know why, but it brought out a tenderness inside him. Something protective and scary.
But then she’d always done that. It was like the demon in him wanted to claim her and kill anyone who came near her. Anyone who hurt her or even looked at her wrong. It was feral and powerful.
And she owned that part of him. She always had.
Right now, he felt like his entire body was made of thrumming electricity that needed to ignite and explode. Sex with her had always heightened and strengthened his psychic abilities, but this was different.
He’d never felt anything like it before.
She nibbled his knuckle. “Is that one part about your Daimon-ness still true?”
“Yes. We all have a second penis hidden in our thigh.”
She laughed out loud. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know. You hear all kinds of stupidity coming out of the mouths of Dark-Hunters when you hang out with them. I’m always appalled and offended by about ninety percent of everything they say.”
Xyn shook her head. “I mean can you still go all night and have multiple orgasms?”
He pressed himself deeper inside her so that she could tell he was already hard again and ready for more. “Oh, yes, ma’am. The one definite perk for my people.” Which he’d always assumed had been done either as a punishment or a way to ensure that they could procreate in their exceedingly short life spans.
She tightened her thighs around him. “You telling me you’re at the ready?”
He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Dearest Lady Dragon, I’m ready to go until neither of us can walk.”
She sucked her breath in sharply as he teased her nipple with his tongue. Oh, he felt so good. “I intend to hold you to that.”
“Then far be it from me to disappoint you …”
Xyn had just finished her third orgasm when a strange buzzing started. “What is that?”
“Hold on a second.” Urian used his powers to pull a peculiar thing to his hand that illuminated. He held it up to his ear. “Hey, little buddy, whatcha need?”
That was a strange tone she’d never heard him use b
efore.
“Well, no. I can’t kill your brother. I can give him a stern talking to for taking your Legos. What did your dad say?”
Xyn sat up and frowned as she tried to make sense of his conversation.
“I see. And Uncle Chris?”
Crossing her legs, she bit her lip at the perplexed frown on his face.
“No. No, Erik! Don’t kill your brother. You might need bail money one day and I might not be available for it, and Phoebe could hold that whole Barbie incident from last year against you. Just calm down and breathe. Your brother’s life is worth more than a video game, I promise. I know it doesn’t seem that way right now, but in an hour, you will move past this.”
She heard someone yelling on the other end.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll talk soon. Love you.” Laughing, he lowered the little rectangle.
“Should I ask?”
He used his finger to swipe at the box, then held up a painting of a dark-haired boy with a huge, exaggerated smile on his face. “My nephew Erik.”
“He’s adorable.”
“Some days.” He pulled it back to swipe again. “He was about to kill this little guy.” He showed a brown-haired boy with similar features who was a few years younger. “Tyr.”
“Which of your brothers do they belong to?”
All the humor left his face then, and a deep, dark sadness swallowed the light in his eyes. The turmoil was so tragic that it made her gut tighten. “Urian?”
He flipped to another image. This one of a beautiful girl with reddish hair. “Little Phoebe.”
“She’s beautiful.”
Urian drew a ragged breath. “I thought you were dead, Xyn.”
“I know. You had no way of knowing what had happened.” And then she saw the guilt in his eyes. “You found someone?”
He nodded.
Anger shot through her. For the merest instant she feared Urian had tricked her, but she caught herself before she reacted. Urian wouldn’t do that. Granted, she’d been gone a long time. Still, integrity like his didn’t vanish. And she had her own guilt to carry, even if it had been to help her family. She couldn’t imagine the pain and sorrow that Urian had experienced for the centuries that they had been apart.
She knew that. Plus, he’d told her that he hadn’t been with anyone. Not in a long while.
“What happened?”
“Phoebe died fourteen years ago.” A tear slid from the corner of his eye and he quickly wiped it away.
Grateful she hadn’t reacted, Xyn pulled him against her. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
No, it wasn’t. Not the way her Urian loved. She held him close and rubbed his back.
“Their mother is her sister.”
“And you watch over them?”
He nodded. “I promised her I would.”
“What of your brothers? How are they?”
Urian drew another ragged breath. “All gone.”
“What?” she gasped in shock.
He nodded. “Atreus was the last to fall. I lost him in 1962 to a Dark-Hunter.”
Sympathetic grief brought tears to her eyes as she brushed the hair back from his face. “I’m so sorry.”
He kissed her hand. “It’s okay. We’re Daimons, right? Loss is what we’re born for.”
“So you’ve been alone all this time?”
“I still have Davyn,” he said with a smile. But it quickly faded. “We’ve got to get your brother’s egg. That’s Davyn’s only hope for a cure. I need you to talk sense into him, Xyn. Please?”
“A cure?”
Fury darkened his eyes as a tic started in his jaw. “Apollo sent a plague to wipe out the Daimons. Whatever it is, Davyn has it. I can’t lose him.”
“I won’t let you.” She kissed him. “Come. Let me go smack my brother around.”
When she started to get up, Urian stopped her. She glanced back with a frown. “Something wrong?”
“I’m not a Daimon anymore. Do you remember what you said?”
“I remember.”
“Good, because I plan to hold you to it.”
Smiling, Xyn watched as he conjured his clothes and then handed her some the likes of which she’d never seen.
“What is this?”
“Modern clothing.”
She wrinkled her nose at it. “Looks itchy.”
“It is itchy. You’ll get used to it. Besides, once we get this squared away, I intend to get you out of it as quickly as possible.”
She arched a brow at his tone. “There better be a ‘please’ in that.”
He snorted. “There will be as much begging in there as you require, I promise.” He poked his lip out to prove it.
Laughing, she stood up on her tiptoes to draw his lip in between her teeth. “That’s better.”
Xyn swallowed as Urian stepped away and led her from the room. They had much left to talk about. A lot had happened to her since the last time she’d seen him.
Funny how promises were so easy to give.
And incredibly hard to keep.
Sitting at a small round table at the Café Du Monde in New Orleans, Dikastas looked up from his coffee and beignets as a shadow fell over him and blocked his view of the pedestrian mall, where he liked to watch the tourists while they shopped and strolled along the busy street.
It was even worse than what he’d initially imagined for the interruption—some poor panhandler begging for spare change or an annoying ass wanting directions.
A pouting Girl Scout peddling some overly sweet cookies.
Oh no, those nightmares would be far preferable to this pestilent beast who brought with him a sickening sensation that caused Dikastas’s jaw to fall slack. Indeed, he wouldn’t have been more shocked or stunned to find Apollymi herself standing there, glaring hatred at him.
He choked down his bite of the sugary confection and took a drink of coffee to clear his throat. “Apollo … to what do I owe this …” He searched for an appropriate word.
Honor definitely didn’t fit.
Horror, not really.
Inconvenience would be the most apropos, but since Dikastas was the Atlantean god of justice, moderation, and order, he had a bit more tact than to say that out loud as it would cause conflict and strife. So he left it open to the Greek god’s interpretation while he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, then gestured at the small metal chair across from him.
Apollo accepted the invitation without hesitation. “What a peculiar place to find you. I actually thought Clotho was lying when she told me where you were living these days.”
Little wonder that, given the fact that the vast majority of his pantheon was currently frozen as statues beneath Acheron’s palace in Katateros. But since Dikastas had had the good sense not to cross Apollymi’s wrath or Styxx’s sword arm, he was one of the extreme few who’d been left free to roam the earth after they’d broken buck wild on them all a few years ago. “And how are my dear half-Greek nieces?”
“Worthless as always.”
Dikastas didn’t comment on that. Mostly, because he agreed about the three Fates. With their great stupidity and rash actions, they had accidentally damned the entire Atlantean race and pantheon in the blink of an eye. Jealous words spoken in a moment of fear against Acheron that had played out with devastating consequences for all the rest of them, especially the triplet goddesses.
He cleared his throat and pinned Apollo with a cool stare. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
After all, they weren’t friends or even friendly. In fact, they hated each other with a fiery zeal. Their pantheons had been mortal enemies, back in the day. And the only thing the two of them had in common was their blond hair.
Literally.
And even it wasn’t the same shade. Apollo’s was far more golden and his tended toward brown.
“I want information.”
Dikastas cocked his brow. “The Fates couldn’t give you what you wanted?”
Apollo snorted. “As I said, they’re basically worthless. What I need to know predates their births by a number of centuries and has to do with Apollymi and Kissare.”
Interesting …
A waitress came up to ask Apollo for an order.
He sneered at her. “Do I look like I eat or drink shit? Begone from me, mortal scum!”
Dikastas sighed at his angry words. So much for Apollo being a god of temperance. “That was unnecessary.”
“So is wasting my time!”
Yet Apollo had no problem intruding on his zen and wasting his. Typical. But then Apollo had always been a selfish prick that way.
All that mattered was his life and his wants.
Everyone else could go to Kalosis and rot.
Leaning back in his chair, Dikastas sipped his café au lait. “Well, if that’s what you’re after, the person you really want to talk to is Bet, as she’d have the most …” He trailed off as Apollo gave him a harsh stare and he realized the total stupidity of what he was suggesting.
“Ah,” Dikastas said with a snide smile. “Guess you can’t go there, can you?” Not after Apollo had screwed Bethany over in not one but two separate lifetimes. The Atlantean goddess of wrath and warfare wouldn’t take kindly to Apollo going to her for anything other than a full disembowelment.
Followed with a thorough denutting.
And the sun itself would freeze over before she’d ever help the bastard who’d killed her beloved husband and cursed her to lose her son, Urian.
“She wouldn’t have been there when Apollymi set up the Atlantean pantheon anyway. She hadn’t been reborn yet, right?”
Again, courtesy of Apollo’s first brutal betrayal against her and her husband …
Dikastas set his coffee cup down and reached for another beignet. “Correct.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Apollo stroked his chin as he thought about something. “So how did Archon convince the frigid bitch of all time to marry him and establish a pantheon with him as its king so that he could play ruler?”
Dikastas snorted at his assumption. “Apollymi isn’t frigid. Therein is the problem. Her passions run deep and dark. She’s ruthless and bloodthirsty, but that doesn’t make her cold. She’s as fiery as a volcano and even quicker to erupt, and far deadlier when she peaks.”