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Chapter 2
Markos
Sitting at my desk sipping my favorite vintage, I watched as my guests enjoyed the party. Sometimes I attended, most of the time I didn’t, but I knew the importance of keeping the people who served me happy. I made more money that way. Every once in a while, I needed to impress my business partners with the fruits of my wealth and reward them for looking the other way when we smuggled artifacts, drugs, or even humans using their connections, boats, jets, or whatever. I held gatherings like this pretty much yearly, and the invites were always highly coveted from the rich and famous around the world. I had amassed a collection of very powerful friends over the years, including many members of government, mafia, and national federations across Europe.
I liked it that way. I was untouchable. I felt like I owned the world.
Fuck. After everything I’d been through, I’d earned that right.
The night had begun as usual, until I’d spotted an overzealous partier who’d ventured where she shouldn’t. There was always one, every single fucking time. I had cameras everywhere for this sort of thing. This was my home, built on top of what remained of my castle and I had many expensive and important things to protect behind locked doors. Things a drunk partygoer didn’t need to see.
I’d have to teach her a lesson not to go where she shouldn’t. I licked my lips. I looked forward to the moment when I could taste her.
At least she was making tonight interesting.
I’d sent my men off to investigate. I knew what she looked like, dressed in a scandalous floor-length gown. They’d bring her to me and then she would try to explain. It was always the same story. She got too drunk and got lost on the way to the restroom. At least, that’s probably what she’d say anyway.
I hadn’t recognized her from the camera footage, which meant she hadn’t been here before. Upon searching the faces in earlier recordings from that evening, I found out that she’d come on Antonio Vitale’s arm. I made it my business to know my business partners and I knew for a fact that she’d never come with him before. I wasn’t particularly surprised by this though. The man was a known player and brought new girls around more times than I could count.
A firm knock on my door broke me out of my thoughts.
“Come in,” I commanded. I smiled when my men filtered through the door, dragging in a struggling, feisty little dark-haired Greek goddess.
“Get your fucking hands off of me,” she demanded, and it took a tremendous amount of effort not to laugh at her audacity.
They forced her forward, forming an impenetrable wall behind her. She turned to try to run, but quickly realized that she wasn’t going anywhere. Her hair covered her face and for a moment, I was disappointed.
“She had this strapped to her ankle,” Nick said, the man in charge of all the people I employed to guard me and my estate. He waved a small 9-mm at me, before tucking it into the waistband of his dark gray slacks. It looked like government issue of some kind.
Defeated, she turned back toward me, pushing her hair out of the way, and that’s when my heart stopped.
It was her. The Warrior of Light in the flesh.
Blue eyes, glittering with flashes of emerald, the same color of the depths of the Mediterranean, stared back at me. High cheekbones flushed with pink spoke of her anger and frustration at being caught and brought before me. Pouty, rosy lips fell open just a little in wonder as she stared back at me. My eyes raked down her body, appreciating the way her taut, firm muscles did little to hide her curves, instead serving only to enhance them.
The dress she was wearing was downright sinful. Blue satin wrapped around her body, like it was molded just for her. The neckline was a modest plunge that showed just enough of her cleavage and it had a deep back, falling above the cusp of her round, curvy ass. Her stomach was flat, her hips flaring out in a delightful manner that made me want to throw her on the floor and fuck her senseless. Her breasts were full, large enough to fit in the palm of my hands. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I could see her nipples pebbling straight through it. There was a hint of a panty line though. Interesting choice.
Bold, but not too bold.
She furrowed her brow and then a hint of recognition passed over her features. She’d figured out who I was.
“Markos Valera,” she said, her voice like music to my ears.
It had been a long time since I’d seen one of her particular ancestry. I expected an attack, but she did nothing. Instead, she just stood there, staring at me with a thinly disguised look of disdain.
“What’s your name?” I asked, leaning back in my leather chair.
“Kassandra,” she answered quietly, probably realizing that she was, quite literally, fucked.
I studied her face. Her kind had always been pulled to me. A result of fate.
The two of us were enemies, her mortal, me immortal. It was her role as the Warrior of Light to vanquish me. In the past, many of her bloodline had come close, but I was exceedingly difficult to kill. I was true evil, a darkness that threatened to consume the world. I was the devil and her kind lived to conquer me.
A vein in her throat pulsed and I could hear the sound of her blood rushing through her body, like a quiet river flowing amongst the rocks. Perfection. A delightful symphony that promised the most delicious of tastes. I licked my lips, watching as she pulled her shoulders back and tried to keep her nerve in the face of the most dangerous man she had ever met.
“Why were you in my archive, Kassandra?” I continued, trying to gauge how much she knew based on the positioning of her body, by the way she licked her lips nervously, or the way her panicked eyes looked around the room for an escape. She was strong, I knew that, and I had to be cautious. I’d made mistakes in the past and I wasn’t willing to repeat them. I’ve had thousands of lifetimes to learn and she only had one.
“I got lost,” she answered quietly.
