Night of the Tiger(41)

Roric looked as though he was gearing up to blast her again, but she cut him off before he could even get started. “Look, at this point, I don’t even know what day of the week it is. I’m not sure about anything except the fact that I need a cup of coffee. Look at the drawings if you want. Everything is there. Me, I’m going to the kitchen.” Turning on her heel, she stalked out of the room. He could follow her if he wanted answers.

She didn’t hear any footsteps behind her on the stairs, but she knew he was there, prowling behind her. She could sense his presence behind her as she hit the main floor and headed toward the kitchen.

Her hands were shaking, but she managed to get the coffee in the filter and the water poured into the machine. When the coffeepot was cheerfully perking, she finally turned to face him.

“I’m having breakfast. Do you want anything?” She knew she was putting off the inevitable, but she was suddenly starving. A thought occurred to her. “Do you eat? I mean, if you’re immortal, do you even need food?

He gave a curt nod. “I can survive without it, but I am stronger if I eat.”

That made sense, or about as much sense as any of this did. What could she feed an immortal warrior who hadn’t eaten in several thousand years? That was a challenge. On the other hand, she doubted he’d be picky.

Aimee opened the refrigerator and drew out a carton of eggs and some mushrooms and sweet peppers, deciding she wanted an omelet. The protein would give them extra energy.

Strong fingers wrapped around her upper arm as she placed the last ingredient on the counter. Using her hip, she shut the refrigerator door before facing Roric. “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

Stunned, she replayed what he’d said in her mind. Those were the last words she’d expected to hear from him. Demands or questions, sure, but not an apology.

He released her and shoved his fingers through his hair. She missed the heat of his hand against her skin. “I haven’t seen my Lady since the final day of fighting with Hades and his minions. I wasn’t even certain she was still alive.”

Suddenly, Aimee felt small and petty. In the scheme of things, her life had been pretty mundane, in spite of the tragedies that had marked it. Roric had spent more than five thousand years locked in a prison of his animal form, not knowing if he’d ever escape, not knowing if this was to be his fate for eternity.

She shook her head. “No, I’m the one who is sorry. It’s just that all of this is a lot for me to take in.”

He nodded. “I understand.” He glanced around the room. “I know much about your world, was able to absorb facts from the air around me even in my animal form, but it is all very strange.”

“I’ll bet.” She couldn’t even imagine the culture shock. “Sit and tell me everything you can.” If she was going to be a part of this fight, she needed to be prepared.

He ran his hand over the back of the chair, tracing the carving in the wood with his fingers, before he pulled it out and sat. Sitting at the head of the table like he was, she had a perfect view of him. She waited until he was comfortable before she began to cook. “I’m making an omelet. It that okay?” She wasn’t sure what he was used to eating, but figured eggs were pretty basic.

“Whatever you make is fine.”

He didn’t exactly sound enthused, but he didn’t sound like he wasn’t looking forward to it either. Shrugging, Aimee cracked eggs, chopped and mixed. The coffeepot gurgled and sputtered as it brewed. The egg mixture sizzled when she dropped it into the large, hot frying pan.

Roric stared down at the surface of the table, seemingly lost in thought. Maybe in memories. She wasn’t certain. He was as still as a statue. She narrowed her eyes, but she couldn’t even see his chest rising and falling as he breathed. The stillness surrounding him was almost frightening. He’d been locked in his tiger form for so long, she wondered if being still had become second nature to him or if he’d always been this way.

She plugged in the four-slice toaster and hauled down what remained of her loaf of bread from the cupboard. There were four slices left, not including crust. Just enough for breakfast. She popped the bread into the slots and pushed down the levers.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she watched Roric, wondering if she should say or do something. Suddenly, he began to speak, his voice low and deep, yet she heard every word and the underlying despair that accompanied them.

“Our Lady was no threat to the Greek gods. All she wanted was to be left alone. Yet Hades and his demons attacked without provocation. Their sheer numbers overwhelmed us. In years gone by, the Lady would have had more than enough power to ward off such an attack. But with the rise of the Olympians, the people no longer worshipped her. A deity gains power from being worshipped, so Hades was more powerful than her.”