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“Andas I said,” he growls, “you’re not going fucking anywhere. In fact, you’re going to walk back the fuck out there, sit your ass in a chair at the table, and stay until you’re the last fucking one here.”
My brows knit. “I—”
“It wouldseem,” he snaps, “that you’ve ignored every threat you knew damn well I could make good on and wormed your way into Callie’s good graces.”
My face pales. “I… I never meant to. It was an accident—”
“I don’t fucking care.”
The pure venom in his tone feels like a blade across my skin.
“You’re not leaving, becauseaccidentor not—though I haven’t the slightest fucking clue how you ‘accidentally’ befriend someone—you seem for some inexplicable reason to be one of her nearest and dearest these days. And if you ghost her party on her fucking birthday and make my baby sister sad, believe me, there is no length to which I will not go to make youseverelyregret it.”
I gasp as he surges into me, until our bodies are literally touching. I shudder, feeling the rippling muscles and sheer power of him throbbing against me as his powerful arms shoot to either side of me, caging me against the counter behind me.
“And I know you’re clearexactlyhow far that is.”
It’s at that precise moment that movement catches my eye. I flinch, my eyes somehow ripping away from his to look past his looming, broad shoulders…
…To where Callie is standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a puzzled expression on her face.
“Callie…”
I croak out her name. Instantly Deimos stiffens, his lips curling in a dangerous snarl. But then, his hands drop from the counter. And I watch, transfixed, as the psycho look on his face melts back into its usual unemotional state, just like it did with Ares.
He smiles thinly at his sister, who frowns curiously before glancing back to me again. I swallow, feeling my face heat.
“I…was just looking for the bathroom,” I blurt. I cringe the second I utter it, realizing how fucking stupid it sounds, given that I’ve been to Callie’s house fifty or so times.
Callie looks like she can’t tell if she’s amused, confused, or concerned. “Uh, it’s still where it was the last dozen times you’ve been over here?”
“Oh, right. Yeah, thanks.”
I slip away from Deimos, though I swear I can still feel his malevolent energy clawing at me, trying to drag me back. But I power through those feelings as I turn to go, shooting Callie a quick and slightly awkward look.
“Happy birthday,” I blurt. “Greatparty.”
In the guest bathroom, I shut the door, lock it, then sink against it, my heart hammering a mile a minute in my chest. I exhale heavily and feel the tension twisting my muscles slowly uncoil.
I shudder as I move to the sink, running cold water as I grip the sides of the marble vanity. My hands slip under the chilly stream, and I lean down and gasp sharply as I splash a little cold water on my cheeks, gently so as not to wreck my makeup, then reach for a towel.
I blot my face with slow, careful, pats before I pull the towel away. My eyes meet my own reflection in the mirror, and I shiver.
How the fuck will I survive this?
I only barely survived Deimos Drakos the first time. And the only way I did was to swear he’d never see me again.
Now I’ve broken that promise.
Will he break his?
I swallow the lump in my throat as I look into my own eyes again. I’m hoping to see strength, or bravery, or resolution, but all I see is fear.
Not the good kind, either. Not the kind that discovers fire, or makes sure you look both ways before crossing the street.
I just see cold, naked, dangerous fear. I see a little girl still scared of the dark and the things that go bump in it.
Things likehim.
