His eyes popped open again as far as the goop would allow and he let go of his surroundings to focus on the voice.
“You have to.” Titus’s voice now. Firm and harsh and as focused as Zander had ever heard the guardian. “I can’t do it. You’re the only one who can.”
Can what?
“What if I’m not strong enough?” she whispered. “Titus, what if…”
What were they talking about? Again Zander tried to roll to his back, but still he couldn’t move. Growing more frustrated by the minute, he settled for shifting his head on the rocks, then regretted it when pain stabbed at his skull.
He was sure he screamed like a little girl, but Titus and Callia didn’t stop their bickering and no one seemed to care that he was in agonizing pain.
“It can’t get any worse than this, Callia. You have to do it.”
Zander moved his head again, enough so he could finally see the two of them where they stood a good distance away. Though his vision was murky, he saw he’d been right. He was in some kind of cavern. A lantern in the center of the room cast shadows over their bodies and illuminated the rock walls and stalactites hanging from the ceiling.
Callia lifted her hands to her cheeks. “One bullet is imbedded in his spinal cord. Titus, do you know what that means? If I try to dislodge it, I could make it worse. He won’t just be paralyzed from the waist down, he’ll be paralyzed everywhere. It could cut off his breathing. The consequences could be much worse—”
Paralyzed? Whoa. Wait a minute…Zander tried to move his legs again, only nothing happened.
“You don’t have any other options!” Titus barked.
Okay, this didn’t sound so good.
Callia glanced around the barren room. “I could go back. We could get someone else. Someone stronger. I’ve heard of witches in the Aegis Mountains who—”
“There’s no time for that.”
“Then we’ll make time! Zander is—”
“Not gonna last that long!” Before Callia could protest once more, Titus slapped his hands on her shoulders to hold her still. His eyes widened, his body stiffened and something like agony flashed across his rugged face just before he swayed.
“Titus! Oh, gods, not you too.” Callia clutched his forearms. “Are you okay? Titus, talk to me. What’s happening?”
Titus staggered but caught himself. His head seemed to loll on his shoulders. Somehow, Callia kept the massive Argonaut from going down. Seconds ticked by before he lifted his head and peered down at her.
Zander squinted, tried to move again to get a better view at what was happening, but he was pinned, frozen…paralyzed?
Shit, that couldn’t be right. He was an Argonaut. Argonauts couldn’t be paralyzed. And he was immortal.
Callia gasped, drawing Zander’s focus back to her.
Titus’s grip tightened on Callia’s shoulder and as Zander watched, some sort of connection flared between the two. They stood locked in each other’s gaze, neither moving, neither speaking, neither trying to break free.
And an emotion Zander hadn’t felt in far longer than he could remember flared hot in the center of his chest, pushing out all that panic and replacing it with something much, much darker.
Get your hands off her, you motherfucker. She’s mine.
Long moments passed. Electricity crackled in the air. Finally, Titus sagged. His eyes rolled back in his head and his grip loosed on Callia’s arms. He slumped to the floor on his knees at her feet.
“Titus?” She reached for him. “Please don’t fall apart on me.”
He shook his head slowly back and forth. “I’m…I’m okay. I’m not…hurt.” But he didn’t sound okay. He sounded totally rattled.
And no one was supposed to be rattled around Callia but Zander.
That rage wedged itself tighter in Zander’s chest. Rage and an instinctive need to annihilate that seemed to come from somewhere outside himself. Right now you’re okay, you SOB, but just wait until I can move my legs again.
“What happened?” Callia asked.
When she tried to touch him, Titus blocked her with his forearm. And the way Callia flinched like he’d hurt her sent Zander’s already amped-up adrenaline shooting into the out-of-this-world range. He tried to move again. Failed.
Zander ground his teeth together and glared at Titus. Try that over here, dickhead.
Neither paid him any attention. Why couldn’t they fucking hear him?
“You have to tell him,” Titus muttered.
“How…how can you know?” she whispered.
“Because I experienced it. Through you. And I guarantee he doesn’t know half what you went through.”
Callia’s face paled.
They were whispering now, and it was hard for Zander to hear, but he almost thought he heard Titus say, “And once he does know, if he’s still an asshole, then I’ll kick his butt into the next realm myself.”
Zander’s temper flashed. I’d like to see you try it, dipshit.
Titus reached out, hesitated, then laid his hand on Callia’s cheek and whispered something Zander couldn’t hear but which brought tears to Callia’s soft violet eyes. Then he added louder, “It’s gone on too long, Callia. You have to put him out of his misery. But know this. If you can’t do it, I will.”
And that was as much as Zander could take.
He shifted, rolled, screamed every vile word he knew at Titus. And that was saying a lot, considering who he hung out with. But he didn’t hear the words. All he heard was a loud keening sound echoing through the room around him. And not until both of their heads jerked his way did he realize the sound had come from him.
“He’s coming around,” Titus said.
They were both at his side in an instant. And lucky for him, that was just about the time Zander figured out how to make his arm work. He swung out, hoping to nail Titus in the jaw, but even he knew the motion was stilted and weak. This was supposed to be his kinsman, but right now Titus looked more like the enemy than any daemon Zander had ever encountered.
“Shh, don’t try to move too much, Zander.” Callia’s soft fingers closed over his arm and she easily replaced it against his side. “Titus, get me my bag. I’m going to need that syringe.”
“About damn time,” Titus muttered. His footsteps sounded across the floor.
Zander hoped the piece of shit wasn’t coming back. One good hit, that’s all he needed…
He tried to breathe, in and out, and closed his eyes, focusing on Callia’s hands and the way she was freeing him from his clothing.
Oh, man, this was not right, but it felt good. Sinful. Erotic. Like it had in the king’s study when she’d had her hands over his naked flesh for that little exam. He didn’t even care what was wrong with him anymore. He just wanted her to go on stroking him like she was doing now.
He wasn’t paralyzed, dammit. He could feel her.
She ran her hands up his bare chest and down again, around the shoulder he’d injured earlier and then down his right arm. Electricity shot through his skin. He groaned—from pleasure or pain, he wasn’t sure which—and reveled in her touch.
This was all he ever wanted. Why couldn’t he have this for the rest of his life?
“That’s it, Zander,” she whispered. “Just relax and don’t fight it.”
“Here it is,” Titus mumbled somewhere close.
Something sharp pricked his arm. His eyes flew open. His upper body tensed, then in a rush all of it—the pain and jealousy and rage—seemed to leak out of him through that one spot. He saw her face above him, calm, collected and comforting. Her heat encircled his body like a wreath. Her scent so strong, he inhaled it all the way to his soul. And he knew if she was really putting him out of his misery as Titus had suggested, then at least this was a pretty awesome last image to take with him to the other side.