Night of the Tiger(53)
As she undressed, her mind rolled over the situation, trying to see it from every angle. She was still pondering the possibilities as she wet a facecloth and quickly dragged it over her face, arms and chest. She looked longingly at the shower, but knew this was faster.
She unzipped her jeans and washed between her thighs, being gentle with the swollen flesh. When she felt clean and fresh once again, she dried off and brushed her hair back into some semblance of order. Satisfied she was as good as she was going to get, she went back to her bedroom and hauled a clean bra and sweatshirt out of her dresser.
She’d just finished tugging the hem of the shirt to her waist when she sensed she was not longer alone. Thinking Roric had come to find her, she raised her head, ready to reassure him she was going to help him.
Only it wasn’t Roric.
Chapter Twelve
The stranger leaned against the wall just inside the doorway. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants that clung to the thick muscles of his thighs. The olive drab T-shirt he wore was stretched at the seams, barely containing his wide shoulders. Combat boots covered his feet. He looked like a cover model for Soldier of Fortune magazine. Even without any obvious weapons, there was no mistaking the lethal air surrounding him.
He was handsome, in a classic sense. His hair was jet black, his skin darkly tanned. But it was his eyes that both drew and repelled her at the same time. They were as dark as midnight and as cold as the dead of winter.
“Who are you?”
She knew she should be screaming bloody murder. There was a strange man in her bedroom, and a dangerous-looking one at that. But after everything else that had happened, she was beyond hysterics. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty, but other than that, she was surprisingly calm about the entire situation. She’d settled herself to the fact that she probably wasn’t going to survive the next twelve hours or so. With that decision made, a sense of peace had settled over her, a sense of purpose.
“You can call me Mordecai.”
Why was that name familiar to her?
One corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “Mentioned me, did he?”
It came to her with her next breath. “You’re one of the warriors.”
He pushed away from the wall, all sinewy grace, and prowled toward her. She backed away from the dresser, not wanting to get hemmed in. He might be one of Roric’s friends, but something about him gave her the willies.
His smile deepened, but it wasn’t a pleasant thing to see. It reminded her too much of the smile Hades had given her in her dream. She shivered and shifted closer to the window. She could always jump if it came to that.
“You’re smarter than I expected.” His low, purring tone raised the hair on her arms and the back of her neck. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her intellect told her there was no way to outrun him. Like Roric, this man was a predator. It was in his blood.
She licked her dry lips and tried to think. “What exactly did you expect?” She tried to inch toward the door, but he casually moved to block her.
He shrugged and the muscles in his arms rippled. “Some insipid creature like the one who freed me.”
Aimee frowned. “Shouldn’t you be grateful to her? After all, she could have left you there.”
He gave a low laugh, as if amused by her naïveté. She could see it in his eyes. “She had no choice, just as I had none. I wanted to survive. There was no way I was going to end up locked away for another five thousand years or more.”
Where the heck was Roric? He needed to be hearing this. He’d never believe her if she told him one of his fellow warriors had gone over to the dark side, but that was exactly what had happened. “You took Hades’ offer.” It wasn’t a question. She could see the truth in his eyes.
“I got smart.” He cocked his head to one side, watching her intently. “I got tired of being on the losing side.” For such a large man, he made no sound as he took another step toward her. “I like winning.”
“I see.” She didn’t really, but she wasn’t sure how to respond. “It was easier to turn traitor than to do what was right.”
Anger burned in his dark eyes. “It’s so easy for you to sit in judgment,” he snapped. “You, who have never been tested. I gave my life, thousands upon thousands of years of loyalty, and what did it get me? Cursed and forgotten.”
Aimee sidled a little more to the left. He was getting much too close for her peace of mind. Unlike Roric, who’d attracted her from the start, she felt no such pull to Mordecai. In spite of his good looks, he repulsed her on some deep level. “She didn’t forget you. The Lady used the last of her power to keep all of you out of Hell while she went there in your stead.”