LITMIR.BIZ

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whatever you’re doing,” she admonished. “You’re hurting yourself.”

      Just that small action caused him to moan and groan inside his head. Need … a moment. Must …

      “Must? What do you need, baby? Tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”

      Baby, again. She’d “take care” of it, of him, as if she cared. Truly cared. He couldn’t soften, no matter how much he liked the way she treated him. Touch your … temples, he said, guilt suddenly flooding him. He’d just requested her aid for her possible downfall.

      Did she have any idea what he could do?

      “You getting kinky on me?” she asked with a chuckle. She probably meant to distract him from his pain. She did, just not the way she’d intended. Her jest had his gaze fastening on her lips, imagining the thrust of her tongue inside his mouth.

      His body reacted, blood heating, pooling between his legs. Damn it! Just … need … temples.

      “Okay, okay. I’ll help you.”

      No, she didn’t know. Her fingers wrapped around his wrists, so cool, so welcome—so steady—and lifted without any hesitation. No questions about his motives, his intentions. She trusted him absolutely. When his hands reached her temples, she flattened her palms, pushing his closer, providing skin-to-skin contact.

      “Like this?”

      Yes. Such faith. Too much. He told himself he was disgusted by that, not delighted. It was a trick to distract him, surely.

      Her lashes fluttered closed, and she nibbled on her lush bottom lip. Such straight, white teeth. Once again his body reacted. He wanted those teeth on him … lower … moving up and down on his shaft. He wanted her hands reaching out, tugging at his balls. He wanted her tongue flicking over the slit of his erection, tasting.

      I need to get laid, he told himself darkly.

      The corner of Haidee’s lips quirked. “Do you now? I’m invited, I hope,” she said with husky entreaty.

      Shit. She’d heard. And she wanted to join him. Wanted him deep inside her, rocking them both to satisfaction. Don’t think about that now. He’d forget he needed to learn about her and simply drag her on top of him. Besides, she could be lying, purposely distracting him as he’d suspected.

      “I won’t if you won’t,” she said with a warm chuckle.

       What?

      “Think about having sex.”

      Damn it. He had to stop talking to himself. She heard every unshielded thought.

      How did his friends stand him? He constantly read their minds, knew their every private—and mostly pornographic—contemplation. They rarely chastised him, however, and never made him feel like a nuisance. He’d always figured they didn’t care. They must have found a way to hide their true feelings from his demon, though. No way they liked his ability.

      He owed everyone in this house an apology.

      Amun forced his mind to quiet and his own lashes to close. He’d done this a thousand times before, the process as ingrained as breathing. He’d done it for Sabin, his leader. For their cause. He blanked his mind and darkness enveloped him, then he concentrated on his senses. Her skin, cool and soft. Her scent, so earthy. He could hear the rasp of her next exhalation … focused on the chilly breath wafting over him … allowed his demon to reach out.

      Colors exploded, chasing away the black. Suddenly images began to take shape. He saw a sky of the brightest azure, a lush green meadow, untouched by time. A scattering of silver stones. Trees missing their leaves, but with sleek, twisted branches. Two little girls running and laughing, playing chase, both wearing lovely pink linen robes, flaxen curls streaming behind them. Sisters. Both possessed hearts practically bursting with love.

      Secrets purred in delight.

      The reaction struck Amun as odd. Such an innocent memory, and not what the demon usually favored. Why did the fiend even care about this?

      The image suddenly shifted, day replaced by night in an instant, leaving only one of the girls. Older now, her gray eyes sparking with tentative joy, as if she was afraid to hope but couldn’t help herself.

      Her skin was sun-kissed and glowing with health, her cheeks rosy with vitality. She wore a linen robe of lavender this time, flowers of the same color pinned through her hair. Those curls … like ribbons of the very moonlight surrounding her.

      This was a past version of Haidee, Amun realized as a gentle, spice-laden breeze caressed her. She stood at the edge of a veranda, looking down into a dappled, crystalline pond. She bore no tattoos, no streaks of pink in her hair, no piercings; she was innocence and optimism wrapped in an utterly stunning package.

      “Are you nervous, my sweet?” a female voice asked from behind her.

      Haidee turned, startled from her reverie. “I love when you call me that,” she replied sincerely. “Especially since you did not like me at first.”

      “No. But that soon changed, did it not?”

      “It did. And yes, yes. I’m nervous, but excited, too.”

      They spoke in Greek.

      Ancient Greek.

      He’d heard the language before, Amun thought, and recently. When? Where?

      The scene continued to play on, and Secrets continued to rifle through Haidee’s memories, dabbling here and there, the girl completely unaware. Then there was a purr, and Amun knew. Answers. His demon had found the answers.

      No new images sprang up, not yet, but what the demon learned, Amun learned, too. Always. So, between one heartbeat and the next, he knew that Little Haidee and Sleeping Beauty Haidee were one and the same. They were this woman. And this woman was—

      Responsible for Baden’s murder, he realized.

      In a flash that lasted no more than a second, Amun saw Baden, hair soaked with blood and plastered to his scalp. Bodiless. He saw Haidee—Hadiee—as she’d once been, golden hair streaming down her back, naked, tanned skin luminous in the moonlight despite the hate radiating from her and the crimson-splatter all over her. He saw her friends, Hunters, swarming, battling his friends.

      Horror blanketed him. The woman he’d lusted after had helped kill his best friend. The woman he’d thought to defend had helped snuff out the kindest soul he’d ever known. The woman he’d cradled at his side had destroyed the one man who’d stood between easily broken mortals and feral, foaming-at-the-mouth immortals still consumed by the evil of their new demons. The man who’d said, “Save the humans, do not hurt them.”

      Baden had been the first to find himself in the darkness.

      Baden had been the one to help the others do the same. Baden. Baden. Amun’s chest constricted so painfully, the barest hint of a gasp left him. He hadn’t made a single noise as the new demons had ravaged him, over and over again, but now he was helpless to hold the sound inside. Baden. Gone forever, because of this woman.

      Each warrior had loved Baden like a brother, and each had felt as if they were his greatest confidant. That’s where the true beauty of the man had lain. His ability to captivate everyone around him. Which had been a miracle, considering the nature of his demon, Distrust.

      Now, Amun held one of Baden’s killers in his hands. Cupped her temples as he’d once cupped Baden’s.

      “Are you okay?” Haidee asked him, all concern and sweetness. Her grip on him tightened.

      His horror was followed by a quick burst of confusion. How was this possible? She’d died. Hadn’t she? Yes. Yes. She. Had. Died. Hunters had used her as Bait—dressed her up like a pretty, helpless doll, sent her knocking on Baden’s door, begging for help. She had lured him straight into slaughter. The

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