“Does it matter?”
Than’s eyes narrowed, and he sobered. “This isn’t a simple case of being horny, is it? You’re juiced.”
“Yeah.” Between the arousal, the vibes of world violence that were slamming into him, and the anger at the way his body and equipment were failing him in Cara’s presence… he was ready to blow. And not in the fun way.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Than braced one shoulder against the wall, his rangy body slipping into a deceptively relaxed pose. “You need to find a Monger to spend yourself on.”
Ares ran both his hands through his hair. “I know.” His body craved release… from fighting, f**king, or both. The longer he went without getting it, the more danger he put people in. Even now, people in nearby towns on the mainland would be engaging in violence, their tempers out of control. The longer Ares went like this, the farther the violence would spread.
“I can stay here while you go to the Four Horsemen.”
That would be the smart thing. He could find a demon female who was into the rough stuff, because right now, that was the only thing that was going to bring him down.
“Damn,” he breathed. “I haven’t been this bad off since we were first cursed.” For about fifty years after they’d become Horsemen, Ares had been unable to control his demon half, and he’d gone on fierce rampages of killing and sex. It had been a dark time for them all, so dark that they rarely discussed it. Than never did.
“You need to go. Hook up with Saw or Flail. Or both.”
Ares growled. Saw and Flail were Neethul demons, sisters named after implements of torture. The Neethul were a violent, cruel race of slavers, and though they didn’t look human, they didn’t look entirely demon, either. They were beautiful, with fine elven features, and Ares could handle that.
But he didn’t want to. He wanted to handle Cara.
“Okay, yeah. I’d planned to go anyway. See if I can get any intel on Pestilence.” He stared at the bedroom door. “I’m going to check on her first.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
He had to. Had to convince himself that he didn’t want her. Make her hate him or something. Anything to ease this insane lust. It wasn’t only about his physical hungers—it was about making sure he could function. A distracted soldier was a dead soldier… but a distracted commander soon found himself in charge of nothing but an army of dead bodies. He couldn’t afford to be distracted now, not when all humanity depended on him.
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted.
“Ares…”
“Stand down.” Ares shouldered past his brother, and when Than laid a restraining hand on his biceps, Ares’s temper flared even hotter. “Get your f**king hand off me.”
Than decked him. Knocked him right into the wall. With a roar, Ares struck back, nailing his brother in the jaw. Blood exploded from Thanatos’s mouth, and his eyes glowed furious amber, but he didn’t attack.
“For f**k’s sake, Ares, I’m trying to help. You’re too far gone to see your own recklessness.” He put his hand to the back of his mouth, stared at the wetness that came away. “You might not remember the trail of death you left behind the last time you had your head up your ass like this, but I do. I followed your roadmap of destruction like a junkie after a dealer, and f**k if I’m going to do that again.”
Thanatos’s words broke through Ares’s haze of need, but only barely. Than’s draw to death bothered him, but he couldn’t help it. Large-scale death energized Than like nothing else, gave him the cl**ax he couldn’t have in any other way.
Closing his eyes, Ares took a deep, calming breath, which was about as effective as spitting on a forest fire. “Fine. I’m out of here. Tell Limos to—”
The smoky stench of evil hit him so hard his eyes watered, and he and Than spun toward the bedroom’s twin doors. Ares blew through them, tearing one off the hinges. And stopped dead, his heart hammering like a fist against his rib cage.
The hellhound that had murdered his family was inches from Cara.
And its teeth were centimeters from her throat.
Twelve
Hellhound breath was foul.
Cara had no idea why, as she was staring at razor-sharp teeth that belonged to a beast that looked ready to eat her, she could only think about its breath.
“Back toward me, Cara.” Ares’s command came from behind her. “Slowly.”
The hound’s sinister snarl told Cara exactly what he thought of that idea, and she planted her feet so firmly on the floor that she might as well have grown roots.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Ares and Thanatos prowl along opposite walls to flank the hound. With another snarl, he snapped his paw out and hooked her around the waist, his serrated claws ripping into the jersey. She cried out, more from surprise than pain, though the beast’s claw tips were now digging into her skin.
“Release her.” Ares’s deep voice was warped with rage.
A sudden vision of herself, decapitated and disemboweled, the hound feeding on her corpse, flashed in her head. She’d always possessed an empathic ability to sense an animal’s emotions, but this went beyond feelings. She was reading the animal’s thoughts, what he wanted to do to her. Another flash went through her brain, of Ares, screaming silently, his body mutilated, his bones shattered as a pack of hounds fed on him. Around his neck, his Seal was broken, and across the dark space was Pestilence, smiling.
The hellhound’s plans for her and for Ares kept coming. Swallowing bile, Cara fought to keep from vomiting.
The mark on her chest flared hot, and her gift, usually buried deep, rushed to the surface. It wanted to kill, was somehow connected to the agimortus, and she had a sickening feeling that as powerful as her ability used to be, it had now gone atomic.
“Release her,” Ares growled, “or I swear to you, I’ll skin you alive and spend weeks making you die.”
It wasn’t a threat. He’d do it, and a wave of dizziness came over her at the savagery winging through the air. She had to do something. Anything. Her hand tingled as her power condensed in her palm.
Violence is for those who don’t have the intelligence to find another way.
Right. Okay… think. She sifted through what she knew about hellhounds… which was nothing. But she’d saved one’s life. Could she tell this beast that? She’d never communicated with an animal before, at least, not with words, until Hal. But that had been in her dreams. Would it work with a hellhound she wasn’t bonded to?
Tentatively, she smoothed her hand over the wiry fur on his shoulder. “Hey, big fella. Let’s calm down, okay?”
She heard the buzz of Ares’s voice and the deadly rumbles in the hound’s throat, but she ignored all of it to focus, praying he’d tune in to her wavelength. Almost instantly, the beast stilled, and his memories ran through her head like a movie on fast-forward. So much data downloaded into her brain that she couldn’t process it, could only take in the scenes involving Pestilence, Ares, and even Hal. So much death and destruction…
A howl pierced her eardrums in a painful boom. He flung her across the room, and the floor came at her in a rush. Thanatos moved like a cat, scooping her up before she hit the tile. The sound of furniture breaking and bodies thumping against walls broke through the ringing in her ears.
Thanatos had barely set her on her feet when she twisted around to see Ares on the floor, his armor crumpled, his broken sword beneath the hellhound’s hubcap-sized paw. Thanatos shoved Cara behind him and lunged for the hound, his blade coming down in an arc.
The blow would have severed the beast’s head if the hound hadn’t suddenly disappeared.
Thanatos tore out of the room, shouting for Vulgrim and calling for a search of the property. When Ares didn’t immediately stand, Cara offered her hand to him. “Are you okay?”
He ignored her offer and exploded to his feet. He let loose a tirade in a language she didn’t know as he gripped her shoulders and yanked her close. “Did he hurt you?” His voice was harsh, clipped, and Cara moderated her own in hopes of calming him.
“He wanted to at first, but no.”
“How did he find me?” He released her, jamming both hands through his hair over and over. “How the f**k did he—”
“Your brother,” she murmured. “Pestilence told him how to find you. And me.”
“How do you know?” His question was more of a demand, his cold gaze that of an interrogator.
“He told me. I’m not sure how, but he told me. He—his name is Chaos—wants you dead.”
“I’m aware of that,” he barked. “The feeling is mutual. So why didn’t he kill you?”
“Because Hal is his son.”
His expression turned thunderous. “He’s what?”
“They were chasing Sestiel when The Aegis shot Hal. That’s how he ended up at my house. I didn’t get much more than that from him, but I think he’d planned to kill me… until he learned that his pup is bonded to me.”
“Son of a bitch.” Ares swept up his broken sword and hurled it against the wall. When he swung back around to her, every part of his body reflected his anger, from the way his brows punched down over flashing eyes to his clenched hands to the way his feet were spread wide in an aggressive fighting stance.
And yet, there was a sensual electricity in the air, and the longer they faced off, the more intense it became, until the air grew thick and hot, and her body flushed with sudden fever.
His gaze darkened dangerously… and then it dropped, traveling down her body as if mapping every curve. “You’re wearing my shirt. Take it off.” His voice was low, husky, little more than a rumble of thunder.
She stiffened. “Maybe I should have asked, but you were gone, and I didn’t have anything else to wear.”
“Take. It. Off.” Ares’s nostrils flared, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “I need you na**d.”