An odd feeling crept over him. It was something he hadn’t felt in so long, if indeed ever, he didn’t recognize it at first. Peace. Aimee brought him a sense of peace.
She let out a deep sigh, her breath brushing against his chest. Even through the fabric of the shirt he wore, he could feel the warmth from it. He barely kept from groaning aloud as the erotic caress made his skin burn. She had no idea of the effect she had on him. No one did. And he had to keep it that way.
Still, when she pulled away, he wanted to haul her back into his embrace and never let her go. Reluctantly, he lowered his arms to his sides.
“You can’t promise that.” It took him a second to remember what they’d been talking about. By the time he did, Aimee had resumed talking again. “If Hades wants you to lead his armies, then he must have wanted the same from the three warriors already released.”
“Yes.” That grim fact had crossed Roric’s mind too.
“That means they’re either on Hades’ side or dead.”
“Dead. There is no way they’d turn their back on the rest of us or the Lady.”
“You can’t know that for sure.” Sympathy darkened her eyes, but he ignored it. She’d just been betrayed, so it was natural for her to assume others would betray just as easily. She didn’t know his comrades as he did. Betrayal was not a part of the warriors’ creed. Death before dishonor. It was the foundation of all they’d lived for, everything they’d done. They knew no other way.
Turning away from her, he began to pace. “Mordecai, Phoenix and Stavros are all dead.” There was no way they’d face imprisonment. Not again. If there was one thing he knew, it was that they would rather die than risk spending another five thousand years or more locked away, unable to move. Death was preferable.
Roric reached the end of the room, spun on his heel and stalked toward Aimee. “They would not turn.”
“Of course not.” He could tell by her tone she was trying to placate him. She didn’t understand the bond the warriors shared between them. The seven of them had fought side-by-side since the dawn of time. They’d spent the past several thousand years chained together in one form or another with only each other to talk to. There was no way any of them would turn rogue.
Or was there? Roric hated the insidious voice that whispered in the back of his brain. Mordecai had always been a loner, even within the group. Stavros had pointed out on more than one occasion that the serpent looked out for himself at all costs.
No! He wouldn’t think that way. That was just a trick of Hades to make him weak. His eyes narrowed and he glared at Aimee. Maybe she was an instrument of the devil, sent to divert his attention.
“You know them better than me.” She gave a small, forced chuckle and wrapped her arms over her chest, rubbing her hands over her upper arms and shoulders. “I don’t know them at all.”
“No, you don’t.” His voice was brusque, his tone one of finality. As far as he was concerned, this subject was closed. He would dwell upon it no longer. It only served to weaken him. If he could not trust his fellow warriors then he could trust no one.
She shut the front door and turned away from him, but not before he saw the flash of hurt in her eyes. Roric sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. This situation was more complicated than he’d imagined it would be. He was ready for a fight to the death. What he wasn’t prepared for was the tangle of feelings he had for this woman.
Peering out the window, she kept her back to him as she spoke. “So what’s next? Sandra’s little gambit didn’t work, but obviously nothing has changed. Hades still wants your help, and the demon said something about being out of here in less than twenty-four hours. That means the clock is ticking. What happens if you refuse?”
He went to stand behind her, wishing he could see her reflection in the glass more clearly. It was faint, but it was there. Barely. He couldn’t make out her features, couldn’t see what emotions clouded her expressive eyes.
His hands hovered over her shoulders. He wanted to touch her, but knew that would only make things worse for both of them. He needed to keep his head clear and his focus on the task at hand.
“If I refuse, Hades will try to kill me and steal my soul.” He leaned closer until their bodies were touching. His chest brushed against her back. She tensed but didn’t move away. He savored the heat from her skin, wanted to rub his chin against her shoulder and nip at the sensitive skin on the back of her neck. He didn’t want to tell her what else would happen, but he owed her the truth. “And Aimee, he’ll try to kill you too.”