He tilted his head, as if mystified by her. “I hold your life in my hands. My grip on it lessens with each insult.”
Then I’ll float away. She shook herself.
In the adjoining sitting area, a fire crackled in a large brick hearth. More symbols embellished the stone there. At various places on the walls, similar markings were spaced the way light switches might be.
An enormous bedstand dominated the room. Thick posters supported heavy drapes. The fabric was tied back, revealing tangled sheets. “That’s your bed?” She could only imagine what activities had taken place there. Moments ago, he’d cupped her between her thighs in that basement, trying to kiss her, yet he’d most likely enjoyed an orgy here today.
“What of it?”
“I would’ve thought it’d be bigger,” she said. “I doubt you can fit more than five or six nymphs in there.”
“Depends on how cozy with them I want to get.”
“You don’t expect me to sleep there, do you?”
“And if I did?”
She tapped the heel of her palm to her forehead. “I forgot my black light and hazmat suit. But you’ve gotta have body condoms around here somewhere.”
He inched even closer to her. “Condoms? I’m half demon.” He leaned down to say, “Even if I needed to wear one, sizing would be an issue. As you well remember.”
With a roll of her eyes, she backed away from him. When he got close, she got weak. How could she still desire a manwhore like him? Especially after he’d threatened to kill her?
Because of his blood. Only his blood.
He crossed to the wall beside the bedstand, pushing a symbol. One second the bed was unmade, the next it was remade, then freshly turned down.
Don’t wig out, Jo. “Handy.”
He raised his brows. “Any more commentary?”
“Not at present.” She sauntered to the fire to warm herself. Her dress was still wet, and most of her damp skin was uncovered. Plus, thirst always made her chilled.
She turned her attention to a comfortable lounge chair situated in front of the fire. Beside it was a container of feathers and arrow shafts.
He made his arrows there. Alone. “Your sitting area only has one chair?” Was he a loner like her? Not that she cared.
Whatever he saw in her expression made his tighten. “A nymph friend decorated this place for me. The styling choices indicate nothing about myself.” He unbuckled the quiver around his leg, setting it against the wall.
“Uh-huh.” The styling choices must indicate a lot about him.
He unhooked his bow and hung it on a spike above the hearth. “There’s a ward over my bow here. Reach for it, and you’ll be blown back on your ass. If you’d still like to try, inform me so I can watch.”
Dickwad!
“In any case, this is a secondary residence.”
“Ruin’s whorehouse weekender.”
With an irritated look, he pressed another symbol, and a wide doorway opened to reveal a huge library. The shelves had to be three stories high. All those books were like safes full of never-ending treasure, and everyone but her seemed to have the keys.
Another of Rune’s symbols opened a second adjoining room with a gigantic swimming pool. Marble columns surrounded it. Torches blazed to life all at the same time, their flames reflecting in the still surface of the water. Steam wafted from a back room.
Cool!
“Copied from an old Roman design.” He surveyed it as if seeing the area anew. “Just when I deem mortals completely without flair, a choice century will come along. . . .”
“How many rooms do you have?”
“As many as I wish. It’s infinite.”
Again, handy. “So this is where you think to keep me.”
“Not exactly a hardship, then.” He cast her that smug look, the one he wore when manipulating nymphs with his dick, the one that made her want to claw his face to ribbons.
“You’ve got no idea what my home is like.” Big Sleazy Weeps. She lifted her nose. “In comparison, I find this . . . quaint.”
“Lucky for me I don’t give a damn about your lofty standards.” He parted his lips, then seemed to change his mind about what he’d been about to say. “Follow me.” He turned in a different direction, opening up another area.
When they crossed through the doorway, she stutter-stepped. Holy shit. Relics filled the room. Suits of armor, statues, jewels, vases, weapons of all kinds. “Where’d this stuff come from?”
“I’ve collected these priceless items over my lifetime.”
Jo collected things as well. One difference. Everything in here was “priceless.” She’d never been to a museum; she wanted to explore this place for days. “Collected? Or stole?”