Standing at the mouth of the tunnel, Cezar was wrapped in shadows, his gaze trained on the woman who was restlessly pacing the dirt floor.
It had been less than ten minutes since they had realized she was being hunted, but in that short time Styx had gathered his servants to search the grounds for the Adar, Darcy had brought Anna’s possessions to take with her, and Levet was busy conjuring some spell that would supposedly destroy any scent that Anna might leave behind.
Cezar wanted to be far away from the estate when that particular spell went off. Levet was well-known for creating large-scale disasters when he attempted magic.
Just beyond the tunnel was a narrow path that circled the back of the large estate. Styx had promised he would send a vampire to pick them up, but so far there was nothing to be heard but the sound of the distant frogs and Anna’s soft, nervous footsteps.
He had attempted to give her a sense of privacy as she struggled to collect her shaken courage. If he had learned nothing else in their short time together, it was that she hated for him to see her vulnerable.
At last, however, he was forced to give in to his screaming instincts. He could tangibly feel her bewildered fear. It cloaked around him, stirring a fierce need to do…something.
Something that involved his fangs and blood and death.
Unfortunately, there was nothing nearby that needed killing—well, unless he counted the annoying gargoyle.
With a low growl he moved to stand directly before Anna, bringing her to a halt by lightly placing his hands on her shoulders. A frown touched his brows as he felt her tremble.
“You’re shivering,” he said, his voice soft enough it wouldn’t carry. “Are you cold?”
She stood stiff beneath his touch, perhaps afraid that if she relented an inch she might shatter.
“I’m fine.”
“The air is damp. Do you have a sweater in your bag?”
She took a step backward, dislodging his hands. “Cezar, if I’m cold I’ll simply warm the air around me.” Her eyes abruptly widened. “Did you just hiss at me?”
Cezar folded his arms over his chest as a sharp anger surged through him.
Dios. The woman took stubbornness to a whole new level.
“I’m weary of you treating me like the enemy, querida,” he said coldly. “I have done nothing but try to protect you since we have met again.”
Her gaze briefly flickered, as if he managed to strike a nerve. Then, with a forced determination she lifted her chin. “Well I haven’t forgotten our first little rendezvous, Cezar.”
Heat arced through him as the memory of pressing this woman to the wall and entering her with a long, delicious stroke rose to mind with a vivid clarity. “You think I have?” he husked.
“You forgot me the moment you walked out the door,” she accused. “I was just another easy lay. Oh no, wait, it was more than that. I was dinner as well, wasn’t I?” She sucked in a shaky breath. “God, I felt so used.”
Cezar swallowed his angry words, suddenly struck by a startling realization.
It was nothing new to have a woman holding a grudge against him. Hell, during his earlier years he had been slapped, stabbed, and nearly staked by furious ex-lovers. But, it seemed a little excessive for any woman to still be nursing such a raw, passionate sense of betrayal for two centuries.
Unless…
Unless she still cared.
His anger eased and with care not to startle her, he once against stepped close. Close enough that the scent of honeyed figs filled his senses.
Christ, had there ever been a more erotic aroma?
“I didn’t leave you, Anna,” he said. “At least not willingly.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence with one of your practiced lines about doing it for my own good or intending to call on me later…”
“I am not giving you some practiced line,” he denied, his hands framing her face, his gaze holding hers with grim determination. His sins were no doubt legendary, but he had never intentionally attempted to harm this woman. Never her. “While you slept in my arms I was visited by the Commission.”
She frowned. “The Commission?”
“They are the…” He grimaced, struggling for the words that would easily translate the purpose of the Oracles. “I suppose you could say they’re the Supreme Court of the demon world. Those who dole out justice and punishments.”
Not surprisingly her frown only deepened. Demon politics brought a frown to a lot of people’s faces.
“What did they want with you?”
He smoothed his expression to an unreadable mask. He could get them both killed if he didn’t take care.
The Commission had little patience and no forgiveness for those who broke their rules.
“I’m not allowed to speak of the Oracles or what they desired of me. Not unless I have a sudden death wish.”
She made a sound deep in her throat. “That’s convenient.”
“It’s anything but convenient.” His hands tightened on her face. “Unfortunately, it’s the truth.”
Perhaps sensing he wouldn’t budge on this subject, she turned to her next grievance.
“Why didn’t you wake me before you left?”
“The Oracles had rendered you unconscious; it was not my place to interfere.”
“Unconscious?” He could feel the sudden heat bloom beneath her skin. “Ha. I knew it. God, I couldn’t believe I fell asleep in that room.” The hazel eyes sparked with anger. “Dammit, what right did they have?”
“You will discover they feel they have every right,” he said dryly, his thumbs stroking her warm skin. His body instantly reacted to the sensation, keenly recalling that satin skin pressed against his own as he moved deep inside her. “And look at it this way, if they hadn’t interfered you would have been in your own bed the night your house burned to the ground. They saved your life.” A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “Actually, if you think about it, I was ultimately responsible for keeping you alive and well.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”
His smile faded. He bent until his forehead rested against hers, the soft brush of her breath warming his lips.
“Anna, I didn’t abandon you that night. In fact, there’s a very good chance that if we hadn’t been interrupted we would still be in that bed.” Her mouth parted to argue, but Cezar had a sweeter means of keeping those lips occupied. Closing the space between them, he captured them in a soft, yearning kiss. It was a bare touching of their lips, but it was enough to send an explosion of hunger ravaging through his body. Too long, too long, too long. The desperate words echoed through his head as he used his thumbs to open her lips so that his tongue could slip into her moist heat. This was not the place or time for such intimacy, but his need for this woman was straining his self-control to the breaking point. “Dios, I will never tire of the taste of you. So sweet.”