Daimon: Guardians of Hades Series Book 6 Page 8

  She shivered at the delicious sound of her name on his tongue. She couldn’t remember him saying it, and if he had, he had never said it like that—softly, almost tenderly.

  She nodded. “Why is it a secret though?”

  “Esher.”

  That one-word answer was enough. His brother wouldn’t understand why Daimon was taking care of humans.

  “Why did you do this for the children?” She couldn’t stop that question from leaving her lips as she gazed up at the building and thought about what he was doing, and realised that the reason the building appeared as it might have back when it was built was because Daimon had been the one to pay for it then.

  He had been running this home for children for two centuries.

  His expression turned guarded.

  “Why, Daimon?” She risked a step towards him, her tone softening as she stared deep into his ice-blue eyes, seeking the answer there.

  “Go back to the mansion.” He stared down at her, a cold edge entering his eyes.

  “No.” She took another step, closing the distance between them down to only a few inches.

  Daimon made a lunge for her and she was quick to evade him, aware that if he got his hand on her he would teleport her back to the mansion and she wouldn’t have the strength to teleport herself after him again when he came back to Hong Kong.

  “Why are you so difficult all the time? Why do you never do as you’re told?” he barked as he made another attempt to seize hold of her.

  Cass froze a short distance from him, beyond arm’s reach, and stared at him as shock rolled through her, a chilling sort of cold that irritated the hell out of her.

  “As I’m told?” she bit out, her eyebrows lowering as her lips flattened, the thought that he believed she should do as he bid raising her hackles. “I’m a powerful sorceress, Daimon. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a man to take care of me. I’m not some weak, delicate little female you can order around.”

  She hurled the last few words at him, fury getting the better of her, tinged with disappointment. When had she ever given him the impression that she couldn’t handle things, that she needed some white-knight figure to protect her?

  His face darkened, his jaw ticking as he glared at her. The pain that surfaced in his eyes was phenomenal.

  Pain that went deep.

  She had struck a nerve, but she wasn’t sure how.

  Or why.

  “Make your own way home then.” He backed off a step, still glowering at her. “It’s not my fucking business, and this here…” He pointed to the building to his right. “This isn’t your business so stay the hell out of it.”

  He disappeared, leaving a trail of black smoke in his wake that was thicker than normal, swirled eerily in the disturbed air.

  Cass’s shoulders sagged as all her tension rushed out of her.

  She bit out a curse.

  How did things between them always end in an argument? She didn’t mean for it to happen, and part of her felt it wasn’t entirely her fault. Daimon was a minefield, and even the slightest misstep on her part had him exploding at her.

  She tipped her head back, closed her eyes and loosed a long sigh.

  Time for another apology.

  This time, she would make it good enough to heal whatever wound she had inflicted on him, even though she wasn’t sure what she had done to hurt him.

  She tried to summon the spell to transport herself. Weakness rolled through her before she managed to finish the first part of the incantation.

  Great.

  She walked to the main road and hailed a cab.

  It was going to take longer than she wanted to reach Daimon. A cab. A ferry. Another cab. She only hoped he had gone back to his home in the hills, because if he had gone back to Tokyo, she was even more screwed.

  She chuckled mirthlessly at that.

  It turned out she needed him after all.

  She sighed as she sagged into the back of a taxi.

  In more ways than she wanted to admit.

  She stared out at the city as the vehicle moved, her mind filled with one thought.

  If she’d had a different life, another life…

  Would Daimon have been hers?

  Chapter 8

  Daimon cut through the water, focused on his breathing, on each stroke of his arms and pump of his legs.

  Trying to shut everything out and relax.

  Something which seemed impossible these days.

  He pivoted at the wall, pressed his feet to the white tiles and kicked off, propelling himself back down the length of his pool. The heated water cooled around him, but not enough that he caused any icebergs to run into as he reached the end of the pool, twisted under the water and kicked off again. He wasn’t sure how many lengths he had done.

  Or how many more he would need before he was too tired to think.

  He wanted to forget the things Cass had thrown at him, but they echoed in his mind, filling it with thoughts of her. Her words troubled him, and so had the thought that had hit him in that moment.

  No. She wasn’t a weak female he could order around, one who would do as she was told.

  She wasn’t meek. Obedient.

  She wasn’t Penelope.

  He gritted his teeth and slammed his hands against the wall of the pool as he reached it, stopping dead.

  He shouldn’t have thought those things about her. He shouldn’t have compared Cass to her.

  It had been wrong of him.

  He growled at himself and pushed off, floated backwards and stretched out on the surface, staring at the faint stars.

  He couldn’t take that thought back though. No matter how much he wanted to. It had been wrong of him, but it was the truth.

  Penelope had been the sort of woman to do as a man bid, but times had been different. Obedience in a female had been expected back then.

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  That wasn’t true either.

  His mother had never been obedient to his father, not really.

  Calindria, his sister, had never been obedient to their parents or any of her brothers, not even her twin, Cal.

  He hated himself for thinking badly of Penelope, finding fault in her when he should have loved everything about her, but all these centuries on, the fact that she had been that way, had been meek and accepting, rather than confident and challenging, still didn’t sit well with him.

  He bumped against the edge of the pool. He lowered his legs and stretched his arms along the curved lip of the wall, stared towards the road beyond the gates of his garden. Was it wrong of him to find faults in Penelope? Was it wrong of him to find the things that she had lacked appealing in Cassandra?

  Was it wrong of him to find Cassandra appealing at all?

  Was it wrong of him to want her with a ferocity that shook him at times?

  He flinched as a sharp pain stabbed his right arm just above his elbow and looked there, the city beyond the glass barrier a blur as his eyes focused on the mosquito. It was fat, sucking greedily on his blood. He raised his arm before him and frowned at the bug, cursing the fact he had been given such a warm place to protect. The damned things would eat him alive if they had the opportunity.

  He didn’t swat it away.

  He waited.

  Watched.

  Smiled as it slowly froze and dropped off him.

  Sometimes, being ice-cold was a blessing not a curse.

  Daimon tipped his head back and rested it on the smooth edge of the pool as he stretched his right arm out again. Small chunks of ice knocked against him, but they didn’t bother him. It was par for the course when he stopped moving, and tonight he wanted the cold.

  Insect song filled the silence as he stared at the stars glittering above him.

  Peaceful.

  What he needed.

  What he had been trying to find since Cass had come crashing into his life.

  So why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

  Why di
d he feel bad that he had left her in the city, in a part of it that could be rough at times—dangerous?

  Why did he want to step back to the orphanage and try to find her?

  She didn’t need his protection. She had made that clear several times now, grew angry with him whenever he tried to look out for her.

  A shiver ran through him.

  Not cold.

  Heat. Incredible heat.

  He slowly opened his eyes and lowered his head.

  Cass stood at the other end of the long pool, her back to the black iron gate and her eyes on his body.

  He frowned at her. “How did you get through the wards without me feeling it?”

  He subtly braced himself for a fight when she lifted her pale blue eyes from his body, a frown marring her pretty face. He hadn’t sensed her breaching the wards, and he should have. He stretched his senses out around him, checking them. They were all still intact.

  Cass drew down a long breath, raised her right hand so her palm was facing him, and her expression went slack. “I beseech you to listen to me, Son of Hades, Guardian of the Sixth Gate, Ruler of Ice, King of Hong Kong, Tamer of—”

  Daimon raised his hand too. “I know the long and boring version of my name. What I don’t know is why you’re using it. I’m trying to relax. I told you to go back to Tokyo.”

  Her right eyebrow arched. “And I told you, you have zero authority over me.”

  “Leave.” He didn’t want her to do that, was relieved to see she was safe, but he couldn’t stop himself from pushing her to see what she would do.

  She scowled at him, a mulish twist to her soft lips. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “You need to get out,” he countered.

  She responded by stepping forwards, her black dress slinking around her long legs with each step, flashing a lot of creamy skin as the slit up the left side opened.

  Gods, she was beautiful.

  Her fall of onyx hair shimmered in the light from the pool and the house to his left. Her pale blue eyes were bright as she locked them on him, ringed by black make-up that only made the colour of them even more striking.

  And she smelled of sin and magic, that scent teasing his senses as wickedly as her smile did as she slowly bent and grazed her fingers across the water of the pool, as if testing the temperature.

  Blocks of ice formed, clunking together and breaking apart, spreading towards him.

  The water temperature dropped to a dangerous level, where it was liable to freeze completely.

  “You need to cool down.” She held his gaze, her smile drawing his to her lips, his thoughts to things he shouldn’t be contemplating. “And listen.”

  She drew her hand away from the water and it began to warm again.

  Daimon stared at her. She was singing a song to his heart. The icy water was a delight, exactly what he needed tonight. Sheer pleasure rippled through him and her smile turned more wicked.

  She gave him a coy look, one that said she knew what she had done, how she had pleased him, and that she took pleasure from it too.

  “Will you hear me out? Perhaps you will be more inclined to listen if I joined you in there?” She stroked her fingers across her cleavage and his gaze tracked her black nails.

  He wanted to touch her like that.

  She reached beneath her arm and he shivered as she lowered a zipper, the sound of it sending a hot wave of need bolting through him.

  His breaths came faster as she eased the front of her dress forwards, flashing the side of her breast. Her bare breast.

  If she got naked, if she came into the pool, he would want to touch her and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

  He shook his head. “You shouldn’t get too close to me, Cass.”

  She smiled knowingly and held her dress up with one hand as she stroked the fingertips of the other one across her chest. “You can’t freeze this heart. It’s been frozen for a century… but I could thaw yours.”

  She dipped and touched the water again. The ice melted in an instant and steam rose from the water.

  Daimon stepped, appearing on the broad white tiles of the terrace. He stared at the steaming water and then sneered at her, need tangling with anger, pain with fury. It all collided inside him, tearing at him, filling his head with ridiculous impossible things.

  She was tormenting him.

  “What do you want from me, koldun’ya?” He stalked towards her, determined to get an answer, because he was tired of her toying with him when she knew all about him.

  When she knew he couldn’t touch anyone without hurting them.

  She disappeared when he reached her and reappeared behind him. He turned on a growl and lunged for her, but she was too quick, nothing more than a blur as she sped around behind him again, evading him. She laughed, high and infuriating, pushing him right to the edge.

  Darkness poured through his veins, roused by the thought she was taunting him, toying with him.

  Out to hurt him for some reason.

  He let it get the better of him as he tried to grab her again, as she evaded him and moved to the other end of the pool. Her smile ripped a growl from him and he stepped, appeared and stepped again when she went to move. He snagged her arm but she disappeared in blue-black smoke, and he realised it had been a decoy, a false impression of her.

  His senses sparked.

  He turned on a pinhead to face her, raising his hand at the same time.

  Her fingers locked around his wrist, stopping him from grabbing her.

  Her gaze ran over him, heat rolling in the wake of it as she stared at his bare chest and stomach, and then ventured lower, to his black swimming trunks.

  “Such a chilly reception.” She smiled dazedly, her eyes glittering with sparks of silver and blue. “Here I thought you would have warmed to me by now.”

  He glared at her and then realised something.

  His eyes leaped to her hand where it gripped his wrist. It was warm. Soft.

  And his touch wasn’t harming her.

  He couldn’t believe it.

  Cass released his wrist and trailed her fingers along it, sending a thousand lightning strikes chasing up his arm. She stroked her nails over his hand and all he could do was watch her, lost in sensation, swept up in the feel of being intimately touched by a female for the first time in centuries.

  “I only wanted to apologise,” she murmured, that pout back in her voice.

  He kept staring at her hand, shivering and on the verge of groaning as she teased his palm.

  “What for?” he muttered, struggling to convince himself to stop her.

  This was wrong of him.

  Wasn’t it?

  Was it so wrong that he wanted this?

  Penelope flashed across his mind.

  It was.

  He pulled his hand away from Cass.

  Her eyes lifted to collide with his. “For everything.”

  Those words were sincere, as if she actually meant them. He tried to convince himself that she didn’t, that this was all some cruel game to her, a way of amusing herself.

  But he got stuck on the fact she had touched him without being hurt.

  That he could touch her.

  Was this rush of sensation, this overload of need, how Ares had felt when he had met Megan? If it was, then he couldn’t blame his brother for succumbing to it.

  But it wasn’t real.

  Or at least what was happening between him and Cass wasn’t real.

  Wasn’t what he needed deep in his heart.

  She proved that by sidling closer to him, a seductive sway to her hips, and letting her dress droop a little lower, flashing the curves of her breasts at him as she smiled and gazed up into his eyes.

  “I told you I could worship you if you let me,” she husked, her voice a throaty whisper. “Now all you have to do is let me, Daimon. Just drop that guard and take what you want. Whatever you need… it’s yours.”

  Tempting, but a lie.

  What he wanted,
what he needed, would never be his.

  She lifted her hand and brought it towards his chest.

  Daimon seized her wrist and stopped her.

  “Spare yourself the trouble and disappointment, Cassandra, and give up now. Nothing can melt my heart.” He tightened his grip on her wrist, driving his point home, and pain flared in her eyes as his power finally managed to make contact with her, breaking past whatever spell she was using to protect herself from him. “Nothing.”

  He cast her hand away from him and didn’t look at her as he moved past her, heading for his house. His feet dragged, his steps slowing as the distance between them grew, filling him with a need to stop and look back at her, to forget everything and take her up on her offer.

  No strings attached.

  That’s what she wanted.

  It had been right there in her eyes.

  For some reason, that irritated the hell out of him. Why had she targeted him? Because he was single? Because she believed he would be easy to sway because of his problem?

  It definitely wasn’t because she viewed him as anything more than a brief fling, a nice conquest to add to what was probably a long line of them. Was this how she operated? Seeking men out to satisfy her needs? How many had she been with? How many more would she be with once she was done with him?

  He curled his fingers into fists and clenched them, his arms shaking as the darkness rose within him again, fuelled by the thought she wanted to use him.

  That she was determined to break him.

  He looked back at her, and not a single ounce of regret or guilt shone in her eyes. Maybe her heart was as cold as his was and she didn’t know how to be warm, only knew how to take what she wanted, regardless of the consequences or devastation she might leave in her wake.

  Well, he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted.

  He wasn’t going to break.

  He needed to remain faithful to Penelope.

  But gods, Cass made it hard. He stared at her, drawn to her even as he wanted to push her away, aching with a need to feel her skin against his and know her taste.

  He silently cursed her, hated how easily she stole his focus and how readily his body responded to her, even before he had known he could touch her. Now, her presence was a torment.