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“Come,” Rathbone repeated. Scowling, he flashed to his special throne room.
His uncle appeared in the center of the room, dark gaze zooming to the remains. His lips curled in a cold smile. “Two other bones are in play, after all. And one is the skull, no less.” He raised an invisible champagne glass. “Kudos to you.” The dryness of his timbre belied his words.
“Resign yourself. She’s coming to life. Soon.”
The King of the Dead strode to the throne and attempted to lift Lore’s hand. He proved unsuccessful; exactly as he’d proven unsuccessful in the past, each piece adhered with an unbreakable enchantment. He released a noise of disgust. “Remind me why I like you again.”
“Because I’m extralikable. And family. And because I spy for you whenever you ask nicely.”
“Yes, but I miss the days when you obeyed without hesitation or question.” The royal performed his version of a pout before adjusting a spiked ring on his finger. “I’m supposed to deliver a message from Taliyah Skyhawk, the harpy General, who just happens to be Neeka’s best friend.”
A fact Rathbone had learned during his search for the oracle. Had she tried to hide the information, he definitely probably would’ve locked her in his dungeon rather than hire her. “Let me guess. If I hurt the girl, I’ll suffer.”
A negligent shrug as Hades descended the dais, returning to his side. “Something like that,” the other male said.
“For now, I guard her with my life. She is—” Ravenous sexual hunger clawed at Rathbone, stealing his thoughts. It was a sensation one female caused.
Confused, he returned his gaze to the throne. His jaw dropped. There, standing between the golden seats, stood Lore, wringing her fingers.
Did he truly see her? Or was she nothing more than a mirage?
Inside him, hope flared. “Lore?”
She gazed upon Rathbone as if he were the sole male in existence. A soft smile bloomed even as a lone tear slid down her cheek. “Hello, my love,” she rasped. “There’s much we need to discuss.”
Her lilting voice filled his ears for the first time in centuries, and he jolted. Mirage or not, she was here. Lore was here. With him. A swell of anticipation proved stronger than any pain he’d suffered since her loss, destroying centuries of apathy in seconds.
He croaked, “Leave us, Hades. Now.”
“Trust me, I’d rather be anywhere else. I’ll go and smooth things over with Taliyah. But you and Iwillspeak again.” With that, Hades vanished.
Rathbone barely registered the male’s statements. Eight long strides brought him to his beloved mate. “Are you truly before me?” He reached up, intending to cup her exquisite face. His fingers misted through her, and a roar of fury sped along his tongue. Heneededto feel her. Recalling how much the slightest display of anger frightened her, however, he clamped his teeth, so only choking sounds escaped. “Are you real?”
“I’m here. I’m real.” She offered him another smile, even as a second tear descended.
The sight shredded him. “Do not cry, beauty. Whatever’s wrong, I’ll make it better.”
Watery baby blues pleaded with him. “Then you must act quickly, my darling. Time is running out.”
5
Happy to be alone, Neeka stripped down to her diamond necklace and rushed through a cold shower. Using Big Red’s assortment of products didn’t help douse the fire raging through her. Worse, the scent of spiced juniper berries added fuel to the flames.
She might need a total memory wipe to cool off. How else could she forget a naked Rathbone and the colossal red rocket he’d pointed in her direction. He was pierced from tip to base, exactly as rumors claimed.Ribbed for a woman’s pleasure.
The air grew thick yet steamy, making breathing more difficult. How she’d stopped herself from gawking at the prehistoric beast and his mighty club, she wasn’t sure. She only knew her heartbeat had yet to slow.
As she rinsed soap from her skin, her gaze caught on her forearm, where she’d scriptedhe-licks-her. What did it mean? To let Rathbone lickher? Because okay, if Past Neeka insisted. Present Neeka owed the girl big time for scoring this job assignment.
But. That couldn’t be right. Neeka did not, would not, could not, should not ever mess around with a so-called married guy. Even though he wasn’t technically married.
Was he?
Upon emerging from the massive stall, she doctored the clothing he’d provided, cutting wing slits in her new shirt, and turning the sweatpants into shorts more miniscule than the last pair.
As she dressed, she directed her thoughts to things that mattered. Why had she been so dirty? She thought she remembered digging somewhere for something, but where and for what? Why? And dang it, how had her scheme to distract him with another lover and avert disaster failed so miserably?
She’d intended to convince Rathbone to date around. To form an attachment to a non-evil immortal. Someone exceptional, so he’d cease longing for Lore. At least long enough for Neeka to cobble together a better plan. But nooo. He maintained a stable filled with well-satisfied mistresses, proving a new love interest wasn’t the answer to her dilemma. And theywerewell-satisfied, weren’t they? She bet they spent hours in comas of bliss.
