“I’m fine.” She stepped away from him when all she wanted to do was fling herself into his strong arms and have him hold her. Time had run out. She had to be brave and smart. And that meant no more touching. They ended up having sex whenever they touched. As wonderful as it was, it had to stop. Neither of them could afford the distractions.
“Don’t lie to me.” His brows narrowed over his eyes and he pursed his lips. “I saw the circle closing. I can smell the brimstone.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Did you see who was in it?” Maybe he’d seen Mordecai. If he had, he’d be more likely to believe her.
He frowned and shook his head.
There went that hope. Bracing herself for the battle to come, she took a deep breath. “I had a visitor.”
Roric tried to ignore the clenching in his gut, but it was no use. Hades had sent one of his minions to tempt Aimee, possibly even to hurt her. Frustration filled him. He should have been here instead of waiting for her downstairs. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened to her. There was no point. It would only lead to doubts and that would simply weaken him.
From now on, he wouldn’t be able to let her out of his sight. Not until this was over once and for all. He was responsible for her safety. The weight of his responsibilities threatened to break him. How could he save Aimee and himself, free his fellow warriors and rescue his goddess? It was an impossible task.
He straightened his shoulders and strengthened his resolve. Nothing was impossible. He would not fail. Could not fail. There was too much depending on him.
Roric felt the slight trembling of her body and slid his hands over her shoulders and upper arms, offering silent comfort. She resisted when he pulled her closer, but he ignored her struggles, wanting no physical space between them.
He knew it would be better if they maintained some sort of distance between them. Still he couldn’t deny the twinge of regret that welled up inside him at the thought. He wanted to feel her soft hair against his chin, smell her sweet skin. He gave himself an inward shake. The time for pleasure was over. The time had come to fight.
The woman quivering in his arms was a reminder of his mission. Still, he didn’t like the idea that she’d been dragged into this war between the gods. It was fine for him to face demons from Hell. It was what he’d been created to do, what he’d been doing since the dawn of time. But Aimee…he wished things could be different, that he could walk away from her and know she’d be okay. But wishing for something didn’t change what was. He’d had thousands of years to come to grips with that notion.
“It’s all right,” he soothed as he stroked his hands up and down her back and arms. “You’re okay.” She was fine for now, but he was under no illusions that state would last much longer. Things were about to get tougher and much more frightening. Hades had been merely toying with them so far.
Aimee sighed and stepped away, wrapping her arms around herself. His arms felt bereft without her. Yet he let her go, not reaching for her as he longed to do.
“As I was finishing getting dressed after getting cleaned up, a man appeared out of nowhere.” She pointed to a spot just inside the door before tucking her hand away once again.
“A demon?” Roric strode to the area, hands stretched out, trying to feel the residual energy. Splaying his fingers wide, he ran his hands up and down the space in front of the wall. Nothing. He frowned and did it again. There should be some taint of evil there, but if it was there, it was masked. He couldn’t find it.
“No.”
He whirled back around. Aimee had moved to the end of the bed and was staring down at the sheets. “Who then?”
She shook her head, not answering. As he watched, she started to sit on the mattress, changed her mind and went to the window instead, staring out into the sunlight. “It looks like a beautiful day. I’d like to go out and feel the sunshine against my face.”
Roric was worried now. Had this creature done something to her? Something he couldn’t see? Not all injuries were physical. In some ways, physical injuries were easier to deal with than those of a mental or emotional nature. Crossing the space between them, he clasped her shoulders gently and turned her to face him. “I’ll take you outside,” he promised. He kept his tone low and unthreatening.
She patted his hand where it rested on her right shoulder. “I’m okay.” At his skeptical look, she shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “It’s just that you’re not going to believe what I have to tell you.”
“I will,” he promised. And he realized that he meant it. He trusted Aimee. The only others he’d trusted on such a gut level were the Lady herself and his fellow warriors—Marko, Arand, Leander, Phoenix, Mordecai and Stavros. “Tell me.”