Some of his men were surrounding Javar's palace, preventing the humans from spreading their violence further. Still… his fists clenched. The fact that they lived offended him.
And he did not like to be offended.
Beside him, Grace skirted around a table overflowing with photos. "We'll be there soon," she said, glancing up at him. "Are you okay? You look pale."
She had changed into new clothing after her bath. She looked edible. Pale blue pants clung to her legs and a sea-green shirt molded itself to her breasts. She was like an ocean wave, utterly captivating. He could have drowned in her and died happy. "Do not concern yourself with me."
"You could whisk us to Argonauts and save us the walk," she said. "I'm anxious to question them again."
Darius, too, was anxious to question them, but he couldn't whisk about in this city. To do so, he had to visualize his target. He knew nothing of this area, he thought, letting his gaze scan. A trickle of sweat dripped into his eyes, and he wiped it away.
The sun continued to beat down upon him, growing hotter with every step he took. Usually his body embraced heat. Now he fought a deepening lassitude. He stumbled when his foot caught on a rock. One corner of his lips lifted in a scowl as he steadied himself. He despised frailty of any kind, especially his own.
"You're not okay," Grace said, her concern more concentrated. She clasped his arm and tried to pull him aside.
He shook off her hold and kept walking in the direction she'd given him earlier. A woman's concern was not something he knew how to deal with. This woman's concern was something he couldn't deal with.
I'm going to bed and kill you before I leave , he almost shouted. Don't waste what's left of your life caring for me .
Scowl solidifying, he stepped out onto the street. He wanted his peaceful, emotionless existence back. No more of this I-want-her I-can't-hurt-her nonsense.
No more!
Pain suddenly flashed through his head. A pain more intense than anything he'd ever experienced. He doubled over with it, cursing the gods all the while.
"Darius!" Grace shouted, grabbing him by the arm and jerking him toward her. "Look out."
A honk sounded. A whiz. Cars swerved out of the way.
Fear halted Grace's heartbeat as a taxi nearly clipped Darius's side. The organ kicked back into gear only when she had ushered him to the safety of the sidewalk. Along the way, she accidentally bumped into a young woman headed in the opposite direction. "I'm sorry," she said, jumping out of the way to avoid the coffee spilling from the girl's cup.
"Watch where you're going," the girl fumed, never actually slowing.
"Darius, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong." Too afraid to release him, she clenched his hand and faced him. "We're not moving from this spot until you do."
"My time here is running out," he said.
She studied him. His sculpted features were taut, his lips tight, and the fine lines around his eyes strained. "You've said that before. What happens if you stay too long?"
He shrugged. One minute ticked into another, but he didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't acknowledge her again in any other way. He simply watched as men, women and children continued to skip past them, some talking and laughing. Some arguing.
Maybe he thought she would use the knowledge against him. She didn't know, but was determined to help him. "Look at me, Darius. Please look at me."
His gaze descended gradually, falling from the building tops, to the neon signs, and finally to her. When their gazes connected, her jaw dropped slightly. As she looked at him, she saw many things. Heart wrenching things. She saw pain in his eyes, as well as traces of guilt and sadness. And, beneath it all, was the slightest glimmer of… hopelessness?
"When we returned from the cave," she said, "you were weak and pale, but after you drank the lemonade you felt better. If you'll wait here, I'll buy you something to eat."
The guilt in his eyes increased, and she wondered at its origin. But he nodded slowly, and her concern for him overrode everything else. "I will wait," he said.
She raced inside the bakery. Fresh ground coffee beans, with a hint of vanilla, and a mouthwatering array of muffins fragranced the air. She claimed a place in line. When her turn arrived, she ordered a bottled water and raisin granola bar for herself. For Darius, she ordered a sinfully rich chocolate éclair and espresso.
With sack and beverages in hand, she rejoined Darius. He hadn't moved from the spot where she'd left him, and he was still too pale.
"Here," she said, handing him the éclair and coffee. Her gaze lingered lovingly on the chocolate. How long since she'd had such a treat? Too long. She and Alex used to spend their allowance on box after box of éclairs. They'd eat as many as their stomachs could hold, and sometimes more.
She blinked away the memory, her determination to find him growing.
"Come on," she said to Darius. "We'll walk and eat at the same time."
As they trudged into motion, Darius sipped at his drink. Some of his color returned, and his steps became more fluid. Men gave them a wide berth, and women gave them, or rather Darius , a second-and sometimes third-glance. Grace knew those women were wondering if he looked this savage simply strolling down the street, how savage would he be making love? In his tight black shirt and tight black pants, the man reeked of sexual pleasure.
Darius pinched the éclair between his fingers, studying the sumptuous pastry from every angle. She watched him while she chewed her tasteless granola bar. "Just eat it," she said.
"It looks like creamy mud."
"If that's your attitude, you deserve to eat my granola." Mouth watering, she slapped the bar in his hand and confiscated the éclair.
"Give that back," he said.
"Over my dead body."
"I am hungry."
"Well, so am I."
She was just about to place the chocolate reverently on her tongue, was just about to let the Bavarian cream slide right into her mouth, when Darius ripped the dessert from her hands.
"That is mine," he said and handed her back her granola bar.
Ready to pounce on him, she growled low in her throat.
His lips twitched. "Why did you not buy yourself one of these if you want it so badly?"
"Because-Just because!" Grace chugged down her water, letting the coldness of the liquid bring her back to her senses. I'm a rational being , she reminded herself, and I don't need the extra fat grams. Besides, what does one dessert matter in light of all that has happened lately ?
"Do all the women on the surface refuse to buy themselves the food they want to eat?" Darius asked.
She recapped the lid on the water bottle. "I'm not talking to you right now. You've tackled me to the ground, you bound me to your side, and… and you cast some sort of magic lust spell on me." Once she said the words, Grace blinked in astonishment. Of course! A magic lust spell explained her seemingly unquenchable desire for him, as well as the fact that she often found herself thinking of him when she should be thinking of ways to find her brother.
Slowly his lips inched into a half smile, a true smile of amusement. The first he'd given her. There was a hint of possessiveness in that smile, too. His eyes darkened to gold. "You lust for me?"
"No, I do not," she ground out, her cheeks scalding hot. "I suspect you're capable of such a despicable deed, that's all."
His nostrils flared in a way that proclaimed he knew, knew , exactly how she felt about him-and knew the lust was entirely her own. "If we did not have so much to do this day, I would take you back to your home, sweet Grace, and explore this magic lust spell. Very, very thoroughly."
While she floundered for some type of rejoinder, he at last bit into his food. He stilled. Utterly and completely stilled. Chewed slowly. Closed his eyes. Opened his eyes, revealing a joy tantamount to orgasm. Chewed some more. Swallowed. "This is-this is-"