He shook his head. “No, not that.”
“Then what?”
“About you . . .”
“Caine?” she prompted.
Oh hell. He had to know. It had been eating at him for the past two hours. “About you not being as experienced as other women.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you asking if I’ve ever had sex?”
With a muffled exclamation, Caine tugged Cassie into a shallow alcove. “Shh.”
“Why?” She waved a hand toward the passing crowd. “They all talk about sex here. A lot.”
He swallowed a moan, his body reacting with predictable enthusiasm to her words. “You haven’t answered my question.”
Without warning, she lifted her hand to stroke her fingertips lightly down the line of his jaw.
“You don’t need to be a prophet to know that a female who has been held in one prison after another doesn’t have a great deal of experience with men,” she said softly. “There were a few, of course, but not like a normal female would enjoy.”
He held her gaze, reaching up to press her fingers against his cheek. “Briggs?” he asked, referring to the demented Were that had helped to hold her hostage.
“What about him?”
“Briggs . . .”—he found it difficult to even utter the question—“never abused you?”
“Of course not.” She allowed a small, mysterious smile to curve her lips. “He was terrified of me.”
Caine released a shaky breath, savagely relieved that she hadn’t been harmed, even though he’d already suspected the truth.
The innocence shimmering in her eyes was more than just a lack of worldly experience.
“So you’re a . . .”
“Virgin.”
Chapter 3
Caine shuddered.
There . . . She’d said it.
The V word.
“Virgin,” he muttered.
She blinked, tugging her hand from his loose grip. “Why do you make it sound like a bad thing?”
“Not bad. Just . . .” He shoved his fingers through his hair. Dammit, how did he explain he wanted her so badly he could barely breathe, but she was depending on him to keep her safe? And to top it off, she was a damned virgin. Only an animal would take advantage of her. “Christ.”
“In the books that I used to read the males always seemed to appreciate the privilege of taking their mate’s innocence,” she mused.
He moaned, wondering if she were deliberately trying to torture him. “Let me guess,” he said in a thick voice. “You read romance books?”
“When Briggs would bring them to me. I liked them.” She tilted her chin. “In fact, I still do.”
Holy hell. Could this get any worse?
“Of course you do,” he muttered, regarding her warily. “But you understand that men aren’t really like the heroes in a story?”
“You are,” she said with a confidence that had him shaking his head in instant denial.
“No.”
“You rescued me from the demon lord.”
“Are you kidding me?” He stepped close enough to make sure that not even a vampire could overhear his words. “The only thing I did was stand in front of the bastard long enough to get myself killed and then mysteriously resurrected.”
“You led me out of the caves.”
“I was saving my own skin.”
“And now you have taken the role of my protector,” she said, clearly determined to see him as some sort of savior. A pathetic joke. “What is that if not heroic?”
He grasped her shoulders, gazing down at her wide eyes with a rising sense of frustration. “Shit, Cassie, if I was really heroic I would take you to your sisters where you would truly be protected and get the hell out of your life.”
She stiffened, clearly not eager to be reunited with her three identical sisters.
Understandable, considering that one was wed to Styx, the King of Vampires, and another wed to Styx’s most trusted guard, Jagr. While the third had mated with the King of Weres, Salvatore.
As soon as they managed to get their hands on Cassie she would be locked away for her own good. Even if being caged again would drive her mad.
“But you won’t?” she breathed.
“No, I won’t,” he admitted without hesitation. “But not because I’m a good guy.”“Then why?”
His hands slid up to lightly graze the sides of her neck, relishing the trust she offered him. A Were would never allow anyone but family or their most intimate friends to be near their throat.
“Because I’m a selfish SOB.”
Her lips parted, as if to deny his words; then he felt her tense beneath his fingers, her eyes widening.
“Caine.”
“What?” He shifted to make certain his body was between her and the lobby. “What is it?”
“Something’s happened.”
His instincts were on full alert, but with no visible enemy, he was stuck growling at thin air. “I’ve warned you, I don’t speak vague.”
“A . . .” Her words died on her lips as the astonishing green of her eyes was clouded by a strange white glow. “Fluctuation,” she at last said.
Caine frowned, waiting for the familiar glyph to shimmer in the air, revealing yet another prophecy that only Cassie could decipher.
On this occasion, however, nothing appeared.
“A fluctuation in what?”
“The game. A new player has arrived.”
Freaking perfect.
“I don’t suppose he or she is batting for our team?” he asked dryly.
“No. His heart is dark.” The white faded from her eyes to reveal a sudden flare of horror as she grabbed his arm to keep her knees from buckling. “Pain. So much pain.”
Wrapping a steadying arm around her waist, he covertly made sure he could easily palm the dagger he’d hidden at the small of his back as well as the handgun holstered beneath his left arm.
“Is he in Vegas?”
She heaved a sigh of frustration. “I don’t know.”
“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.” He stepped back, his gaze sweeping over the lobby for any hint of danger. “In the meantime we need to get away from these crowds.”
Two days later
Gaius’s lair in Louisiana
Gaius brushed a hand down the elegant black suit that was perfectly tailored to his slender body before making sure the pale silver tie was lying smooth against the white silk shirt.
Despite his dislike for the witch, he had to admit that Sally had done a fine job in preparing for his arrival. Not only had she refitted the house with heavy shutters that kept out most of the daylight, and surrounded it with a revulsion spell that would keep out all but the most powerful demons, but she’d ordered an entire closet full of clothing that suited his understated but elegant tastes.
Odd that such a flamboyant little freak could possess such fine taste in men’s attire.
He could only hope she was equally talented in fulfilling his most current need.
On cue, he caught the scent of peaches that always seemed to cling to the witch and moments later there was a light knock on the door.
“Commander?” she called softly.
Gaius’s lips twitched. After two days in his constant companionship the female had lost most of her smug arrogance. There was nothing quite like being trapped with a lethal predator who hated witches to give a person an attitude adjustment.
“Enter.”
He heard her draw in a deep breath before pushing open the door to study him with a brittle bravado that didn’t mask her wariness.
Smart little witch.
Hovering in the doorway, Sally looked like a goth rag doll with her pigtails and heavy black eyeliner and matching lipstick. She was wearing some sort of red camisole with a puffy net skirt.
“It’s time for the ceremony.”
Gaius adjusted the French cuff links, his expression frigidly controlled. There was no way in hell he was going to reveal to the sneaky little bitch just how unnerved he was by the thought of allowing her to perform her magic on him. It was bad enough that he’d gone to his knees to plead for mercy when the Dark Lord had announced that Gaius would be “altered” to better suit the master’s needs.
“You have brought what I requested?” he instead demanded.
Her lips thinned, but she offered a ready nod. Good. The witch was learning. Like any good general, he expected complete obedience from his soldiers.
“I did.”
“Well?”
“She’s in the guest room.”
“Show me.”
The dark eyes flared with annoyance at his imperious tone but, wise enough to keep her mouth shut, Sally turned to lead him down the hallway.
Gaius followed at a measured pace, on full alert despite the supposed security of the lair. He’d learned a cruel lesson in ever lowering his guard the night his clan was attacked.
A lesson he would never forget.
“Have you heard from our companions?” he demanded as they climbed the steps leading to the upper floor.