Her eyes widened as she lifted her gaze to his face. “I don’t understand.”
“The curse isn’t completely mine. I share it with her.” Whoever she was. “Once I fall in love with her, she’ll lose her mind. She’ll think only of my demise, and she’ll make sure it comes to pass.”
Another gift courtesy of that too-cocky shit, Zeus. Good news was, the joke was on the now deposed king. William had never fallen in love and never would. There was only room in his heart for one, and he was that one.
“I would never hurt you,” Gilly said softly. And before he could reply, not that he had any clue as to what to say, she added, “Let’s backtrack a little. The book contains a way to save you? And her?”
“Maybe.” He gently chucked her under the chin. “Don’t even think about it, Gumdrop. The curse is one of blood, which means someone has to die. If I’m saved, the one who saves me will be the one to die in my place. That isn’t going to be you. Understand?”
She didn’t speak, but she didn’t nod, either. Nor did her gentle expression change. That scared him. The thought of dying should have freaked her out. The thought of her dying did freak him out.
With more force than he’d intended, he said, “Be a good girl, and go get some rest. You’ve got circles under your eyes, and I don’t like them.”
Finally. A reaction. Her mouth pressed into a mulish line, and as well as he was coming to know her, he prepared himself for pure, unbending stubbornness. Whoever she ultimately ended up with was going to have his hands full. Poor bastard.
Dead bastard. William might kill him just for fun.
Don’t go there.
“I’m not a little girl,” she gritted out. “So stop treating me like one.”
“You are a little girl,” he replied easily, rolling his eyes for good measure. She was, and that was a fact.
She stuck her tongue out at him, proving his claim. “The boys at my school don’t think so.”
He would not react to the sight of that tongue. Or to the provocative words. “The boys at your school are dumb.”
“Hardly. They want to kiss me.”
A flicker of rage took residence in his chest. “You better not encourage them, little girl, because I will hurt them if they ever try anything with you. You’re not ready for that kind of relationship.”
“And I suppose you get to decide when I’m ready?”
“Exactly.” Smart, his little gumdrop. “In fact, as soon as I think you’re old enough, I’ll let you know. Until then, keep your lips to yourself or you’ll regret it.”
“Oh, really? Give me a hint, then.” There was steel in her voice rather than amusement. “What age do you consider old enough and just how will I regret disobeying you?”
A wiser man would have kept his fat mouth closed. “Three hundred. Or so,” he added, giving himself room to work. “And believe me, you do not want to find out.”
“First, I’m human,” she snapped. “I’ll never be that old.”
“I know.” And he didn’t like that fact, he realized. She had eighty years, give or take a few, but no more. And that was only if she wasn’t run over by a car. Or beheaded by a Hunter.
Damn it. If he had to sign on with the Lords for a permanent place in their army just to look after her, he was going to be annoyed. He had shit to do, places to be.
“Second, I’m not afraid of you.”
She should be. The things he’d done over the years…. The things he would do in the years to come…. “Let’s forget the fear for now. By your own admission, you’re a puny human. Which is another reason you need to rest.” He gave her a “gentle” push off the bed. “Go. Get out of here.”
She hit the floor with a hmph, then popped to her feet. She peered down at him for a long while. He let her look, silent, knowing what she saw. A black-haired, blue-eyed stunner who had broken more hearts than he could count. He prayed that she, like all the others before her, wouldn’t overlook the fact that his heart had never been breached. That she wouldn’t see him as a challenge, as tamable…as worth any risk.
His phone beeped, disrupting the quiet and signaling a text had come in. She glanced at the phone on the nightstand, then at him.
“Go,” he said more firmly.
“Fine.” She spun and strode from the room, leaving William with an odd, hollow feeling in his chest. Damn it, he thought again.
Another beep sounded. He pushed Gilly to the back of his mind and lifted the little black device to read the screen.
Screen name “Stridey-Man” asked, Want 2 vacay w/me?
William snorted as he typed. Romantic getaway for 2? UR not my type, dickwad.
Only a few seconds passed before the second message arrived. Fuck U. I’m everyone’s type. So U in or out? ’Cause I’m thinking about hooking up w/P, wherever he is. U’d just B extra baggage.
Leave the fortress. Leave Gilly and her dark, too knowledgeable eyes. Leave her staggering hope for something he couldn’t, wouldn’t, give her. Leave her probing questions, her gentle touch. Some 1 taking UR place here at fort? he typed. Much as he wanted to escape, he wouldn’t leave her helpless.
K & C are gonna come back. Last chance. In or out?
This time he didn’t hesitate. In. Stridey-Man: Knew U couldn’t resist me. B ready in 5.
Right on. Make it 10. I want 2 style my hair for U. U know, just how U like it.
Stridey-Man: ASSHOLE.
He snickered, having more fun teasing Strider than he’d had in a long, long time. ?? U up for a lil stop before we play??
Stridey-Man: Where?
Locale deets later. Alls U need 2 know is I plan 2 murder Gilly’s fam.
He’d wanted the deed taken care of long before now, but his little jaunt into hell had altered his plans. The demons down there had nearly eaten through his arm, and the stupid limb had only recently healed. Plus, Amun had promised to go with him and tell William about the mom and stepfather’s deepest secrets and fears so that William could make the road to dead frightening and painful.
Only, Amun was still whacked out of his mind and William was tired of waiting.
Stridey-Man: Rock on. But now U only have 8 minutes 2 do UR hair.
Trust the cocky Strider to agree to a brutal massacre without asking dumb questions like “why” and “how.”
William untucked the covers and stood, making a mental list of everything he’d need for the coming trip. A few blades, serrated and nonserrated. A vial of acid. A bone saw. A spiked paddle. A cat-o’-nine-tails. And a bag of Gummy Bears.
Gods, but this was going to be fun.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HAIDEE LUXURIATED IN THE now-familiar warmth enveloping her, branding her all over again, as the hazy dream took shape in her mind. Moonlight surrounded her, illuminating the veranda she stood upon, as well as the pond she studied in the courtyard. Fireflies hovered over the clear, dappled water like fallen stars that had finally found a new perch. A cool breeze ruffled the wild tumble of her hair, and her lavender robe—her wedding gown—danced at her ankles.
She could hardly believe this day had arrived.
Solon had actually married her. After a rocky start and courtship, he’d vowed to love and cherish her in front of his friends and family. Even though he was a powerful noble, she was not, and he could have kept her as a slave. But that arrangement was unacceptable, he’d said. As his wife, no one would ever hurt her again. Even after he died.
For that alone, she would have fallen in love with him. Except, she’d already loved him. He was older than she by sixteen years but strongly built nonetheless. He had only ever regarded her with kindness, had never raised a hand to her in anger, even though his first reaction to her had been one of tension, and had never allowed his visitors to abuse her.