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“Behind a locked door?” I pressed, my disbelief obvious.
“My mistake. I thought it was the bathroom. I heard someone behind it and when they hadn’t come out, I assumed they locked the door and passed out. I was just trying to help,” she lied blatantly to my face. I sighed, almost disappointed at the fact that she hadn’t been more creative.
I’d seen the footage. I’d seen her searching through my vast collection of documents mentioning her ancestry. Looking for answers. Of what, I wasn’t yet sure.
Her body language was distrustful, but not downright hostile. Nothing about her suggested she was going to go on the offensive. I narrowed my eyes, studying her more closely. She’d been caught and looked guilty, but so far, she’d done nothing more than that.
Could it be that she didn’t recognize the pull? Hadn’t realized how fate had brought us together like it always did? Did she not recognize who I truly was? It wasn’t possible, was it?
She was the Warrior of Light; of that, I had zero doubt.
Her bloodline was ancient. It had been around as long as I had been, the balance of good to my evil. I’d studied her ancestors over the years. In every generation, the firstborn of her bloodline would feel the pull of fate and become the Warrior of Light. She’d be stronger, faster, and cleverer than a normal human and driven by destiny to kill me. Over the last several thousands of years, I and her bloodline had run into each other numerous times. Sometimes I escaped unscathed, sometimes I didn’t. Sometimes I killed them, but they had never killed me. My greatest triumph had been slaying a number of them in a row. I had won, and the result had been written down in history as the Dark Ages.
That was me.
But it hadn’t lasted. Eventually, one of them had succeeded in hurting me once again and then the world had begun to change, to grow and expand both economically and intellectually. At that point, I was no longer in power and the world had prospered.
I’d hated that.
The last encounter I’d had with a woman from her bloodline had been devastating. Even though it was hundreds of years ago, I still remembered it with vivid detail, as if it happened only yesterday.
Her name had been Althea.
It was the height of the Renaissance and I’d been on the run for a while, hiding in the undergrounds of Europe in order to avoid her. I’d finally come back home to my castle in Mykonos, under the assumption that I’d outrun her and she’d lost my trail.
Kassandra stared at me and I saw Althea’s features in hers. Strong, steady, and unafraid.
The night Althea had found me, I’d been deep in the cellar, working on filling the last barrels of what I was sure was going to be one of my best batches of wine. Althea had trained hard, embraced her destiny, and was more tenacious than any of the others. I had been unprepared. I didn’t even have a weapon. We’d fought for a long time. She was strong and eventually, her spear had flown forward, sinking deep into my flesh and piercing deep into my heart. I’d fallen before her and Althea had risen in victory.
She left me to die, but I was hard to kill. After the battle, I’d crawled deep into the depths of my castle and hid. For several hundred years, I’d gone into a deep state of slumber, an inactive state that allowed me to rest and recover until I was ready to venture into the world once again.
In that time, the Warrior of Light bloodline had gone dormant. It always did when I was inactive. When I finally woke again, it appeared that the story of the Warrior of Light had faded into legend and myth and from what I could gather, the family had crossed the sea to start a new life in America and had all been forgotten. I had prepared for this day though, hopeful it would never come, but maybe… maybe this wasn’t a bad thing.
Perhaps Kassandra knew nothing at all.
I slammed my palms down on my desk, a heavy dark mahogany that spoke to my power, and she visibly flinched at the sound.
“I don’t think you’re telling the truth,” I said. A breathy sigh of fear escaped her throat and my cock hardened at the delectable sound. Moving around my desk, I stood directly in front of her and leaned back against it, further testing her. I needed to know if now that she’d found me, if she’d become aware of her purpose.
Would she suddenly feel the need to confront me?
She remained silent. Stoic even.
I moved closer to her and she didn’t move. Reaching for her, I dragged my fingers across her cheek. Maybe if I touched her, she’d realize what she was.
“Do you know me, warrior?” I asked her cautiously, ready to move in case she reacted suddenly, without warning.
“Sure. You’re Markos Varela. This is your villa and I’m a guest at your party.” She paused and licked her lips. “Antonio will be missing me though. I should return to him. He’ll want to know why I was delayed,” she replied, her tone dripping with warning.
Cute. Mentioning the name of a feared mafia kingpin in order to try to intimidate me. Little did she know, Antonio was afraid of me. As powerful as he was, he’d never cross me because as much power as he had, I had more. He’d be dead in the blink of an eye if he angered me and he knew it.
Silly, naïve woman.
Her heart was pounding, and the sound of her blood was louder than before. I took a deep breath. I wanted to taste her, to savor the sweet flavor that was the Warrior of Light at her peak. Over my lifetime, I’d enjoyed the blood of her ancestry several times. I wondered if I’d get the chance to again, with her.
She really had no idea who I was. Here I stood, the original evil, and even though it was her destiny to vanquish me, it was quickly becoming obvious that she had no clue.
That fact gave me options.
