Night of the Tiger(73)

Her eyes said it all. She was here to stay.

His heart swelled in his chest, threatening to burst. Power flowed into him unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Aimee wasn’t leaving him.

He tried to push aside the emotions flooding him. Now wasn’t the time for this. But there might never be time. That brought him up short. “You should leave.” His voice sounded hoarse and rough. He drew himself up to his full height and stared down at her.

The tiger within him roared. Like him, the beast didn’t know how to feel. He was angry she hadn’t left to protect herself and thrilled that she’d chosen to stand and fight beside him.

His fingernails elongated into huge claws and he felt his face changing, jaw elongating and teeth sharpening into fangs as the tiger surged forward. Bones cracked and started to reform. The primal part of his soul wanted dominance.

Aimee was his mate.

It no longer mattered that he was immortal and she was not. It no longer mattered that they both might die in the next few minutes. He accepted what was and embraced it. Drawing in a deep breath, he inhaled her unique scent, letting it fill his nostrils and lungs. He let out a roar of warning. He would tear the demon limb from limb if she dared touch Aimee.

Aimee’s eyes widened as his body began to change, but she didn’t run, didn’t cringe from him. Instead, she hurried closer. “What’s wrong?”

Roric shoved the tiger back, but it took a Herculean effort. His features morphed back into those of a man. The tiger snarled inside him, pacing and roaring for release. But Roric couldn’t allow the beast to have dominion. Not now.

He needed to remain in his human form, to be able to think and reason clearly. When he was in his tiger form, he was more instinctual. And it would take a combination of brains, brawn and instinct to beat Hades and his minions at their own game.

The tiger quieted when Roric silently promised to let him out if the need arose. The beast crouched, willing and ready to fight.

“Roric? Are you okay?” Aimee’s concern was a balm to his battered soul, strengthening him.

He brushed his thumb over her cheek, marveling in her softness. “You should have left when you had the chance.”

“Yes, well, I should have done a lot of things in my life.” She gave him a wry smile. “Remember what I told you earlier. Heroine. Home alone. Always ends up dead.”

“I remember.” No matter what happened, he would always remember the selflessness of Aimee, her sacrifice and her courage.

“Enough!” The frustrated screech filled the space around them. “This touching scene is nauseating. If you won’t listen to me, perhaps you’ll listen to them.”

A black hole swirled in the air in front of them, growing larger and larger the faster it spun. Roric tensed, waiting to see what new horrors it would spit out. He frowned as a tall, dark-haired man and a shorter brunette woman stepped forth. They looked very familiar.

“Dad,” Aimee gasped. “Mom.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Her mother rushed forward to embrace her. Aimee jumped back at the last second. The woman dropped her arms by her sides, looking crushed. She appealed to the man beside her.

“Aimee, honey, it’s okay.” The man reached out his hand to her. A low, menacing growl broke from Roric’s throat. The tiger didn’t want anyone touching his mate. The man hastily yanked back his hand.

“I don’t understand.” Aimee looked at her parents, at him and then at Sandra. “You’re not real. You can’t be real.”

“They are,” Sandra insisted. “Hades can do anything, including capture souls.” Her smile was cruel. “It’s up to you what happens to them.”

Roric felt his heart shrivel. There was no way Aimee would choose him over her parents. She couldn’t. Not with them standing in front of her. Not even he, with his powers, could tell if they were real or a demon trick.

Aimee shook her head and backed away until she hit the canvas wall of the tent. “This is impossible.”

“We don’t want to go back there.” Several tears trickled down the older woman’s cheeks. She looked so much like Aimee that it hurt Roric to see her in such pain. His guts twisted as he imagined just how tortured Aimee must feel at this moment.

“It’s dark and cold and it hurts.” The older woman rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Her husband stepped up behind her and wrapped her in his embrace.

“Aimee, you have to help us,” the man pleaded.

Tears flowed freely down Aimee’s face. “There is no way you ended up in Hell. You’re good people. So you must be a trick. You’re not real.”