Seize the Night

Chapter 2

Valerius came awake slowly to the sound of someone humming nearby.
Humming?
He blinked open his eyes expecting to find himself in his own bed in his own house. Instead, he was on a queen-size antique tester bed with an ornate wooden canopy that was padded in burgundy velvet.
The voice he heard was coming from a rocking chair on his left. He turned his head and was floored by what he found.
It was...
Well, at first glance it looked like a very large woman. She had long blond hair and was wearing a short-sleeved, pink furry sweater and a pair of khaki pants. Only the "woman" had shoulders every bit as broad as Valerius did and a pronounced Adam's apple.
She sat in the chair, flipping through the fall issue of Vogue with glossy, blood-red fingernails that could double for claws. She looked up and paused in her humming.
"Oh! You're awake!" she said excitedly, getting up immediately and fluttering around his bed. She awkwardly grabbed what appeared to be a walkie-talkie from the nightstand and pressed the button while making sure she didn't break a nail. "Tabby, Mr. Sexy is awake."
"Okay, Marla, thanks."
Valerius had a faint memory of that voice, but it wasn't clear as he tried to remember what had happened to him. "Where am I?" he asked.
"Hell" seemed the most apropos answer. But the pain in his body and the dimmed room that was a peculiar mixture of modern and antique said that not even hell would be this bad or tacky.
"Don't move, sweetie," the unknown woman said as she continued to gesture and hover around the bed. "Tabby will be right here. She said that I wasn't to let you go anywhere at all. So don't."
Before he could ask who Tabby was, another woman burst into the room.
She too was tall. But unlike the first one, she was slender, almost waif-like, except that her body was well defined, as if she lifted weights. Her long auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had a vicious scar over her left cheekbone.
Valerius froze at the sight of the warrior he'd seen the night before. Memories flooded him. Including the one where she had stabbed him straight in the chest-which was helped by the fact that she still held a large butcher knife in her right hand.
"You!" he accused, pushing himself to the furthest edge of the bed.
The woman visibly cringed before she turned to the first one and urged her toward the door. "Thanks, Marla, I appreciate your watching over him."
"Oh, anytime, hon. You just ring-a-ding if you need anything."
"I will." She pushed the larger woman out the door and slammed it shut. "Hi," she said to Valerius.
He stared at the knife in her hand, then looked down at the healing wound on his chest. "What? Are you back to finish me off?"
She frowned at him. "Wha...?" Then her gaze went to the knife in her hand. "Oh, this. No, last night was a complete accident."
Tabitha placed the knife on the dresser, then turned to face him. She had to admit that Valerius looked extremely handsome in her bed. His long black hair was down, and draped around his face. His features were perfectly chiseled as if by some master artist. And that body of his...
Really, no man should look that yummy.
It was why she'd spent the night in her downstairs office and why she'd sent Marla up to watch after him first thing this morning.
Asleep he'd been more of a temptation than she wanted. He'd looked relaxed and gentle.
Inviting.
Awake he looked dangerous.
And still inviting.
She would give the goddess credit, Artemis had exquisite taste in men; and to Tabitha's knowledge, and according to Amanda's words, there was no such thing as an ugly Dark-Hunter.
She couldn't really fault the goddess for that. If you had to pick men for your own personal army, what woman wouldn't pick the tallest and best-looking of the bunch?
It also explained why Acheron was their leader.
Yes, it was good to be a goddess. Tabitha couldn't imagine how great it would be to command all that delectable testosterone.
And Valerius was prime DH material as he sat with one divinely carved arm braced on her mattress while the rest of him was all but bare to her sight. He looked like some coiled, wild beast ready to strike.
But he was confused. She felt his emotions reaching out to her. He was also angry but she wasn't sure why.
"You're safe here," she said, stepping near the bed. "I know what you are and I made sure all the windows are covered."
"Who are you?" he asked in a suspicious tone.
"Tabitha Devereaux," she said.
"Are you a Squire?"
"No."
"Then how do you know-"
"I'm a friend of Acheron's."
His anger snapped at that. "You're lying." He stood up suddenly, then hissed as he realized he was completely naked.
Tabitha bit her lip to keep from moaning at the sight of all that luscious skin bared. She had to give the Dark-Hunters credit, they were all incredibly well built.
Valerius grabbed the sheet from her bed and covered himself. "Where are my clothes?" he asked in the most disdainful voice she'd ever heard.
No wonder Nick and the others had a hard time with him. Arrogance and supreme superiority bled from every molecule of that masculine body. It was obvious Valerius was a man used to giving orders, which made sense since she knew he had once been a Roman general.
Unfortunately, Tabitha wasn't used to following anyone's orders, especially not a man's.
"Keep your shirt on," she said with a laugh at her bad joke. "Your clothes are at the laundry. They'll deliver them as soon as they're ready."
"And in the meantime?"
"Looks like you're naked."
His jaw worked as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I beg your pardon?"
"Beg all you want, you're still going to be naked." Tabitha paused at the wicked image in her mind. "Come to think of it, a gorgeous, begging, naked man... that's the stuff of fantasies. Begging won't get you your clothes, but it could get you something else." She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
His fist tightened on the sheet he held around his waist. She could sense that he was both offended and yet oddly amused by her.
She cocked her head at him. "You know, you are Roman. You could just make a toga out of the bedsheet."
Valerius stood there feeling a strange urge to sputter. Had he been lowborn, he might actually have done that.
This had to be the strangest woman ever born.
"How do you know I'm Roman?"
"I told you, I know Ash and all the rest of you night dwellers." She gave him a playful look. "C'mon, make a toga for me. I tried to make one in college and ended up with it falling off in the middle of the party. Thank God my roommate was still sober enough to scoop it up and wrap it around me before the frat boys pounced."
Behind him, he heard a cuckoo clock chime. Valerius turned to see the time, then scowled as he realized the "bird" had a red mohawk.
It also had an eyepatch.
"Ain't it a hoot?" Tabitha asked. "I picked it up in Switzerland when I spent a year there studying."
"Fascinating," he said coldly. "Now if you'll leave me, I shall-"
"Whoa, wait a sec, bud. I ain't your servant and you don't take that tone with me. Capisce?"
"Saeva scaeva," Valerius muttered under his breath.
"Saeve puer," she shot back.
Valerius actually gaped at her. "Did you just insult me in Latin?"
"You insulted me first. Not that I'm particularly insulted by being called a rampant she-devil. It's kind of flattering, but still, I'm not the kind of person to take an insult in silence."
In spite of himself, he was impressed. It had been a long time indeed since he'd met a female who knew his native tongue. Of course, he didn't like being called an oafish boy, but there was something to be said for a woman who possessed such intelligence.
And it had been an eternity since he was around someone who didn't openly disdain him. She wasn't biting in her retorts. Rather she was sparring with him like a champion debater who took none of this to heart.
How unusual...
How frighteningly refreshing.
Suddenly, the theme song to The Twilight Zone chimed through the house.
"What is that?" he asked trepidatiously. Maybe he had actually walked into Rod Serling's domain.
"Doorbell. It's probably your clothes being delivered."
"Tabby!" Marla shouted from somewhere outside the bedroom. "It's Ben with your stuff."
Valerius stiffened at the crass behavior. "Does he always scream like that?"
"Hey, now," Tabitha said sternly. "Marla is one of my dearest friends on this earth and if you insult her or keep calling her a he, I'll stake your butt somewhere where it'll hurt a lot more than your chest." She dropped her gaze meaningfully to his groin.
Valerius widened his eyes at her threat. What kind of woman said such a thing to a man?
Before he could speak, she left the room.
Stunned, he wasn't sure what to do. What to think. He went to the dresser where she'd left her knife. Next to it was his wallet, keys, and phone.
He grabbed the phone and called Acheron, who immediately answered.
"I need help," Valerius said to him for the first time in two thousand years.
Acheron groaned slightly. "Help with what?" he asked. His heavily accented voice was groggy, as if Valerius had awakened him from a deep sleep.
"I'm in the home of a madwoman who claims she knows you. You have to get me out of here right now, Acheron. I don't care what it takes."
"It's noon, Valerius. We both should be asleep." Acheron paused. "Where are you anyway?"
Valerius was looking around the room. There were Mardi Gras beads draped all over the three-sided antique dresser mirror. Instead of a Persian rug, it was... a giant toy-car road map. There were parts of the room that showed impeccable taste and breeding and parts that were just plain scary.
He hesitated in front of what appeared to be a voodoo altar.
"I don't know," Valerius said. "I hear some godawful kind of music from outside, horns blaring, and I'm in a house with a mohawk cuckoo bird, a transvestite, and a knife-wielding lunatic."
"Why are you at Tabitha's?" Acheron asked.
Valerius was floored by the question. Acheron really did know her?
Granted, Acheron was a bit eccentric, but up until now, Valerius had assumed the Atlantean had more sense than to associate with such low-class humans. "Excuse me?"
"Relax," Acheron said with a yawn. "You're in good hands. Tabby won't hurt you."
"She stabbed me!"
"Damn," Ash said. "I told her not to stab any more Hunters. I hate it when she does that."
"You hate it? I'm the one with the festering wound."
"Really?" Acheron asked. "I've never known a Dark-Hunter to have a festering wound before. At least not externally."
Valerius clenched his teeth at the Atlantean's misplaced humor. "I do not find you amusing, Acheron."
"Yeah, I know. But look on the bright side: You're the third Dark-Hunter she's nailed so far. She kind of gets a little carried away sometimes."
"A little carried away? The woman is a menace."
"Nah, she's a good egg. Unless you're a Daimon-then she can give Xanthippe a run for her money."
Valerius doubted that. Even the infamous ancient Greek shrew had to be more composed than Tabitha.
The door opened to show Tabitha entering the room with his clothes wrapped in plastic.
"Who are you talking to?" she asked.
"Tell her I said hi," Acheron said a second later.
This time, Valerius did sputter. He just couldn't believe what was happening here. That these two knew each other so well.
He stared at Tabitha as she hung his clothes on the closet doorknob. "Acheron says hi."
She moved to stand in front of him, leaned forward, and raised her voice so that Acheron could hear her over the phone. "Hey, gorgeous babe. Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Yes, I should," Acheron said to Valerius.
"You don't call Acheron 'babe,'" Valerius said sternly to Tabitha.
She actually snorted at him. Like a horse. "You don't call Acheron 'babe' because... well, that's just sick. But I call him 'babe' all the time."
Valerius was shocked.
Was she...
"No, she's not my girlfriend," Acheron said from the other end as if he could hear Valerius's thoughts. "I'm leaving that for some other poor sap."
"You have to help me, Acheron," Valerius said, tightening his grip on the sheet as he moved away from Tabitha, who continued to pursue him across the room.
"Okay, listen. Here's some help. You know your prized cashmere coat?"
Valerius couldn't imagine how that might help him, but at this point he was willing to try anything. "Yes?"
"Guard it well. Marla is about your size and she'll definitely try to steal it if she sees it. She has this strange coat and jacket fetish, especially if they've been worn by men. Last time I was in town, she ended up with my favorite motorcycle jacket."
Valerius gaped. "And how is it that you associate with drag queens, Acheron?"
"I have many interesting friends, Valerius, and some of them are even complete and utter assholes."
He stiffened. "Was that directed at me?"
"No. I just think you're way too uptight for your own good. Now if you're through wigging out on me, I'd like to go back to sleep."
Ash actually hung up the phone.
Valerius stood there, holding the cell phone. He felt like someone had just cut the line on his life preserver, and was leaving him to drift out into shark-infested waters.
Jaws herself was there, waiting to devour him.
Jupiter help him.
Tabitha picked the pillow up off the floor and returned it to the bed. She paused as she caught sight of Valerius's backside. Damn, he had the nicest posterior she'd ever seen on any man. Someone should stamp Grade A Prime on it. It was all she could do not to walk over to him and cop a feel, but his rigid, frigid stance kept her well at bay.
That and the multitude of scars that marred his back. It looked as if someone had beaten him repeatedly.
But who would have dared do such a thing?
"You okay?" she asked as he walked to the dresser and set his phone down.
He raked his hand through his long hair and sighed. "How many hours to sundown?"
"A little over five." She sensed he was still angry and confused. "You want to go back to bed and sleep?"
He gave her a harsh, menacing glare. "I want to go home."
"Yeah, well, I would have taken you home had Otto answered his phone last night."
"I gave Guido time off for bad behavior," Valerius said under his breath. Then his face went suddenly pale.
Tabitha sensed dread, followed sharply by a pain so deep that it actually made her wince.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I need to go home immediately."
"Well, unless you have some special relationship to Apollo that I need to know about, that's about as likely as me winning the lottery, which would be highly likely if Ash would ever share those damn numbers with me. Vicious cur that he is. He won't share squat."
She felt a wave of hopeless despair consume Valerius. Instinctively, she walked over to him and gently touched his arm. "It's okay, really. I'll take you back as soon as the sun goes down."
Valerius looked down at her hand on his biceps. No woman had laid a bare hand to him like that in centuries. It wasn't sexual. It was soothing. The hand of someone who offered him comfort.
He lifted his gaze to hers. She had searingly blue eyes.
They were sharp and intelligent. Most of all, they were kind, and kindness wasn't something Valerius was used to.
Most people took one look at him and instantly had a strong disliking for him. As a human, he'd attributed it to his regal status and his family's well-earned reputation for brutality.
As a Dark-Hunter, it had stemmed from the fact that he was a Roman and since Rome and Greece had spent centuries warring against each other until Rome had finally brought Greece to her knees, it was only to be expected that the Greeks would hate him. Unfortunately, the Greeks and Amazons were a vocal group who had quickly turned all the other Dark-Hunters and Squires against their Roman-born brethren.
Over the centuries, Valerius had convinced himself that he didn't need any brothers-in-arms and had even started getting a morbid kind of enjoyment from reminding them of his regal Roman status.
From the first year of his rebirth, he'd learned to strike out at them before they struck him.
He'd finally embraced the rigid formality and sense of propriety that his father had beaten into him as a child.
But that formality fled before the kindness of this woman's soothing touch.
Tabitha swallowed as something passed between them. His dark, intense stare went through her and for the first time it wasn't condemning or judgmental. It was almost tender, and tenderness was not something she expected from a man of Valerius's reputation.
He laid his fingers against the scar on her cheek. She didn't see the sneer on his face that most men got when they saw it. Instead, he gently traced its line. "What happened?" he asked.
"Car wreck" almost came out. She'd told that lie for so long that it was practically automatic now. Honestly, it was a lot easier to say the lie than it was to live the truth.
She knew just how hideous her face was. Her family had no idea how many times she had overheard them make comments about her scar. How many times Kyrian had told Amanda that he would gladly pay for her to have plastic surgery.
But Tabitha had been terrified of hospitals ever since her aunt had died of a simple tonsillectomy gone bad. She would never elect to have something done just because she wasn't pretty anymore. If the rest of the world couldn't deal with her, it was their problem, not hers.
"A Daimon," she said quietly. "He said he wanted to give me a special memento so that I would always remember him."
A tic started in his jaw at her words and she sensed his anger on her behalf.
"I'll give him credit," she said past the lump in her throat. "He was right. I think of him every time I look in the mirror."
Valerius dropped his hand down to the scar on her neck where one of the Daimons had actually gotten a bite on her. If not for Kyrian coming to her rescue, she would most likely have died that night.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Those were words she was certain never crossed this man's lips. "It's okay. We all have scars. I'm just lucky that most of mine are on the outside."
Valerius was stunned by her wisdom. He'd never expected such depth of thought from a woman like her. She gave a light squeeze to his hand before she removed it from her neck and stepped back.
"Are you hungry?"
"Famished," he answered honestly. Like most Dark-Hunters he usually ate three meals a night. One not long after he awoke at sunset, another around ten or eleven at night, and the third one around three or four in the morning. Since he'd been wounded fairly early, he'd only eaten one meal last night.
"Okay, I have a well-stocked kitchen. What would you like?"
"Something Italian."
She nodded. "Sounds good. Go ahead and get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs. The kitchen is the door on the left. Don't open the one on the right that has a Bio-hazard sticker on it. That one leads to my shop and it's nothing but daylight in there."
She started to pull the door closed behind her, then stopped. "By the way, you might want to put your coat in my closet until you leave. Marla-"
"Acheron already warned me."
"Ah, good. See you in a few."
Valerius waited until she was gone before he went to dress. As he hung his coat in her closet, he was struck by the fact that she owned as much black as he did. The only color in her closet was a bright pink satin dress that stood out harshly amidst the sea of darkness. That and a red plaid miniskirt.
It was the miniskirt that held his attention as an unwanted image of Tabitha in it went through him and he wondered if she had nice legs.
He'd always appreciated a pair of shapely, soft feminine legs. Especially when they were wrapped around him.
His body hardened instantly with that thought. Valerius grimaced as he felt suddenly like a pervert standing in her closet, daydreaming about her.
He shut the closet door instantly and left the room. The hallway was painted a bright yellow shade that was a bit harsh on his sensitive Dark-Hunter eyes. There was a room across the hall that had the door opened to display a well-kept, tastefully decorated bedroom. He saw a silver sequined dress lying across the antique bed and an ornate brunette wig resting on a foam head beside it.
"Oh, hi, cutie," Marla said as she left what must have been a bathroom. She was wearing a turban on her apparently bald head and a pink bathrobe. "Tabby's downstairs."
"Thank you," he said, inclining his head to her.
"Ooo, manners. What a nice change for Tabby. Most of the men she drags home are all crude ruffians. Except for that Ash Parthenopaeus who is remarkably well-mannered. But he's odd, too. Have you ever met him?"
"I am acquainted with him, yes."
She visibly shivered. "Ooo, I like the way you say 'acquainted,' shug. That's some accent you have there. Now you better go on before I take up any more of your time. God knows, I'll talk your ears off if you let me."
Smiling at her flamboyant gestures as she shooed him away, Valerius bid her adieu, then closed her door. There was something oddly charming about Marla.
He made his way down the beautiful cherry staircase that led to a small landing. He frowned at the Biohazard sticker that was right where Tabitha had said. He turned to the left where two French doors that could use a bit of repair led to a small dining room. Inside were an old brown-and-white farmer's table and ladder-back chairs that had seen better days.
The walls were painted a harsh white and held framed black-and-white posters of European landmarks such as the Eiffel Tower, Stonehenge, and the Coliseum. Black plantation shutters had been pulled closed over the windows to block out the daylight for him. And a black buffet was set against the far wall. The top of it was littered with pictures and collectible plates, including ones of Elvis and Elvira. Two large, antique silver candelabrums stood at each end of it.
But what amazed him was an 8 x 10 picture in the center of the buffet of what appeared to be Tabitha in a wedding dress standing beside a man whose face was covered by a small cut-out picture of Russell Crowe's head.
He reached out to remove the picture.
"There you are," Tabitha said from behind him.
Valerius straightened instantly. "You're married?" he asked.
She frowned until she saw the picture. "Oh, good grief, no. That's my sister Amanda at her wedding. The baby girl in the picture next to it is her daughter, Marissa."
Valerius studied the wedding picture. There was really no difference between the women except for the scar. "You have a twin sister?"
"Yes."
"And why is your sister married to Russell Crowe?"
Tabitha laughed. "Ah, it's a goof on my brother-in-law, the self-righteous, proselytizing schlemiel."
He gave her an arch look. "I take it you don't care for the man."
"Actually, I love him to death. He's really good to my sister and niece, and is a real sweetheart in his own way. But, much like you, he takes himself entirely too seriously. You guys need to lighten up and enjoy yourselves more. Life's too short... well, maybe not for you, but for the rest of us mortals it is."
Valerius was fascinated by this woman who should repulse him. She was tacky and uncouth and yet she was amusing and charming in a most unexpected way.
She plunked a small red can on the table that had a plastic spoon sticking out of what appeared to be some sort of elbow macaroni and marinara.
Valerius frowned. "What is that?"
"Ravioli."
He arched a brow at that. "That is not ravioli."
She looked down at it. "Well, okay. It's Beefaroni. My niece calls anything that comes in these small microwavable cans ravioli." She pulled a chair out for him. "Eat up."
Valerius was aghast at what she was offering him. "I beg your pardon? You don't actually expect me to eat that, do you?"
"Well, yeah. You said you wanted Italian. It's Italian." She picked the can up and indicated the label. "See. Chef Boyardee. He makes only the best stuff."
Valerius had never been more appalled in his life. Surely she was joking. "I don't eat out of paper cups with plastic cutlery."
"Well, la-di-da, Mr. Fancy Pants. Sorry if I offended you, but here on Planet Earth the rest of us plebeians tend to eat whatever's handy, and when something is given to us, we don't question it."
Tabitha crossed her arms over her chest as he went ramrod stiff. If looks could kill, her poor cup of Beefaroni would be splintered.
"I shall withdraw until nightfall." He gave her an imperious nod of his head before he headed back toward the stairs.
Tabitha gaped as he left her. He really was offended and deep inside, hurt. The latter made no sense whatsoever to her. She was the one who should be insulted. Picking up the Beefaroni, she sighed, took a bite, and headed back into the kitchen with it.
Valerius carefully closed the door to her room when what he really wanted to do was slam it. But then, nobility didn't slam through the house. That was for commoners. Nobility held their emotions under careful restraint.
Nor were they wounded by the opinion of crass women with no couth who insulted them.
He'd been foolish to think for even a moment that she...
"I don't need anyone to like me," he muttered under his breath. He'd lived all his life without anyone giving a damn about him. Why should it change now?
And yet he couldn't squelch that tiny part of him that yearned for someone to pass along a note of kindness to him. A simple, "Tell Valerius I said hi." Just once in his life... "You're being foolish," he growled at himself. Better to be feared than liked. His father's words rang in his ears. People will always betray someone they like, but never someone they truly fear.
It was true. Fear kept people in line. He more than anyone knew that.
Had his brothers feared him...
Valerius winced at the memory and moved to sit in the director's chair in the corner of the room.
It was set next to a bookcase that held a wide assortment of novels. He frowned as he scanned the titles, which went from The Last Days of Pompeii and The Life and Times of Alexander the Great to Jim Butcher's Dresden novels.
What a peculiar woman Tabitha was. As Valerius reached for a book about ancient Rome, his gaze fell to the trash can beside the chair. It was large like the kind that most people kept in the kitchen, but what caught his attention was the piece of black sleeve that peeped out from the closed top. Opening it, he found his shirt and coat.
His frown deepened as he pulled them out. They were still covered in blood and torn. He fingered the slash in the back of them from where the Daimon had cut him with a sword.
But he was wearing his...
Valerius stood up and pulled his silk turtleneck off. It was Ralph Lauren, identical to the one he'd worn last night. There was only one explanation.
Tabitha had bought him new clothes.
He went to the closet and examined the coat. It wasn't until then that he realized the buttons were a slightly different color of brass. Other than that, it was an exact copy.
He couldn't believe it. His coat alone had cost fifteen hundred dollars. Why would she do such a thing?
Wanting an answer, he headed back downstairs where he found her alone in the kitchen, cooking.
Valerius hesitated in the doorway. She stood sideways from him, a perfectly serene profile. She was truly a beautiful woman.
Her faded black jeans hugged long legs and an extremely attractive rear. She wore a short-sleeved, buttoned-up black sweater that rode high, leaving a large amount of tanned flesh exposed between the low-riding jeans and her navel, which, if he wasn't mistaken, was pierced.
Her long auburn hair was pulled back and she looked strangely tranquil standing over the stove in her bare feet; a silver toe ring twinkled on her right foot. The radio was turned on, low, playing Martin Briley's "Salt in My Tears." Tabitha's hips moved in time to the music in an erotic rhythm that was far more alluring than he wanted to admit.
Indeed, it was all he could do to not move toward her so that he could dip his head down and sample some of the succulent skin that beckoned him.
She was a spitfire who would surely ride him well. He took a step forward and she jumped, then kicked her foot out. Valerius cursed as said foot made contact with his groin and he doubled over with the pain of it.
"Oh my God!" Tabitha gasped as she realized she'd just racked her houseguest. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
He gave her a menacing glare. "No," he growled, limping away from her.
Tabitha helped him toward the step stool chair that she kept in the small kitchen. "I'm really, really sorry," she repeated as he sat down and held the heel of his hand against himself. "I should have warned you not to sneak up behind me."
"I wasn't sneaking," he said from between clenched teeth. "I was walking."
"Here, let me get you some ice."
"I don't need ice. I just need a minute to breathe and not talk."
She held her hands up in surrender. "Take your time."
After he turned several interesting shades, he finally recovered himself. "Thank Jupiter you didn't have another knife in your hands," he muttered, then said louder, "Do you kick every man who comes into the house like this?"
"Oh, Lord, not another one!" Marla said as she entered the room. "Tabby, I swear it's a wonder you have a personal life at all the way you treat men."
"Oh, hush, Marla. I didn't do it on purpose... this time."
Marla rolled her eyes as she grabbed two Diet Cokes from the fridge. She handed one to Valerius. "Hold that to your wound, sweetie. It'll help. Just be grateful you're not Phil. I heard they had to perform a testicle retrieval operation after Tabby caught him two-timing on her." Then she popped the top on her drink and went back upstairs.
"He deserved it," Tabitha called after Marla. "He's lucky I didn't cut it off."
Valerius really didn't want to pursue that conversation. He stood up and set the Coke on the countertop. "Why are you cooking?"
Tabitha shrugged. "You said you didn't want something out of a can so I'm making you pasta."
"But you said-"
"I say a lot of things I don't mean."
He watched her as she turned the stove off, then took the pot of boiling pasta toward the sink. A bell sounded.
"Wanna get that for me?"
"Get what?" he asked.
"The microwave."
Valerius looked around the kitchen. In all his life, he'd seldom seen a kitchen and knew very little about the appliances that one cooked with. He had servants for such things.
The bell chimed again.
Assuming that was the microwave, he went to it and pulled the handle. Inside was a bowl of marinara. He took the fish-shaped potholder that was lying in front of the microwave and pulled the bowl out. "Where should I put this?"
"The stove, please."
He did as she said.
She brought a small bowl over to where he stood, then covered the pasta with sauce.
"Better?" she asked, handing it to him.
Valerius nodded, until his gaze dropped to the noodles. He blinked in disbelief as the shape of the pasta hit him.
No. Surely he was seeing things.
Was that a...?
His jaw went slack as he realized that it was what it appeared. Little tiny pasta penises were swimming in the red marinara.
"Oh, come on," Tabitha said in an irritable voice. "Don't tell me a Roman general is having trouble with penironi."
"You don't honestly expect me to eat this?" he asked, aghast.
She huffed at him. "Don't you dare cop that superior attitude with me, buddy. I happen to know exactly how you Romans lived. How you decorated your houses. You come from the land of the phallus, so don't act so shocked that I gave you a bowl of them to eat. It's not like I have the flying phallus wind chime hanging in my house to ward off evil or something, but I'll bet you did when you were human."
It was true, but it had been centuries since... come to think of it, he'd never seen anything like this.
She handed him a fork. "It's not silver, but it is stainless steel. I'm sure you can make do."
He was still mesmerized by the pasta. "Where did you get this?"
"I sell it and boobaroni in my shop."
"Boobaroni?"
"I think you can figure that one out."
Valerius didn't know what to say to that. He'd never eaten obscene food before-and just what kind of shop did she own that she sold such commodities inside it?
"House of Vetti," Tabitha said, arms akimbo. "Need I say more?"
Valerius was well-versed about the Roman house she spoke of, as well as its risque murals. True, his people had been rather overt with their sexuality, but he most certainly hadn't expected to come face to face with it in this modern age.
"Non sana est puella," Valerius said under his breath, which was Latin for This girl is insane.
"Quin tu istanc orationem hinc veterem antque antiquam amoves, vervex?" Tabitha shot back. Would you stop using that obsolete language, you sheep-head?
Never before had Valerius been both insulted and amused at the same time. "How is it you speak Latin so perfectly?"
She pulled a piece of toast from her oven. "I have a master's degree in Ancient Civ. My sister, Selena, has her Ph.D. in it. We thought it was a goof in college to insult each other in Latin."
"Selena Laurens? The lunatic with a tarot-card table in the Square?"
She gave him a fierce glare. "That loon happens to be my beloved big sister and if you insult her again, you'll be limping... more."
Valerius bit his tongue as he made his way to her table in the dining room. He'd met Selena several times over the last three years, and none of those encounters had gone well. When Acheron had first mentioned her, Valerius had been delighted at the prospect of having someone to talk to who knew his culture and language.
But as soon as Acheron had introduced them, Selena had tossed her drink into Valerius's face. She had called him every insult known to mankind and had even made up quite a few new ones.
He didn't know why Selena hated him so much. All she would say is that it was a shame he hadn't died under a barbarian stampede, ripped to pieces.
And that was one of her kinder wishes for his death.
It would most likely please her a great deal to know his real death had been far more humiliating and painful than any of her rants.
Every time he ventured into the Square to patrol for Daimons, she hurled curses at him, as well as anything else she had handy to throw in his direction.
No doubt she would be thrilled to find out her sister had stabbed him. Her only regret would be that he was still living and not lying dead in some gutter.
Tabitha paused in the doorway and watched as Valerius actually ate his pasta in silence. He held himself rigidly upright and his manners were impeccable. He appeared calm and composed.
But then he also looked so incredibly uncomfortable in her house. Not to mention out of place.
"Here," she said, moving forward to hand him the bread.
"Thank you," he said as he took it. He frowned as if looking for a bread plate. Finally, he set the bread down on the table and returned to his offbeat pasta.
There was an awkward silence between them. She didn't know what to say to him. It was weird to have this man in her presence when she'd heard so much about him.
None of which was good.
Her brother-in-law and his best friend Julian spent hours at family parties, ranting about Valerius and his family and the fact that Artemis had transferred Valerius to New Orleans for pure spite because she hadn't wanted to let Kyrian go. Maybe that was true. Or maybe the goddess had only wanted Kyrian to face his past and put it firmly to rest.
Either way, the person who seemed to be punished most by Artemis's decision was Valerius, who was constantly reminded of Kyrian and Julian's hatred.
Funny how he didn't seem so bad to her.
True, he was arrogant and formal, but...
There was something more to him. She could feel it.
She went to the kitchen to get him something to drink. Her first thought was to give him water, but then, she'd already been vicious in giving him the penironi. It had been a childish impulse that she now felt extremely guilty over. So she decided to break open her wine cabinet and get him something he would no doubt appreciate.
Valerius looked up as Tabitha handed him a glass of red wine. He half-expected it to be a harsh, cheap Ripple and was pleasantly surprised at the rich, full-bodied taste of it.
"Thank you," he said.
"You're welcome."
As she started away, he captured her hand and pulled her to a stop. "Why did you buy me new clothes?"
"How did you-"
"I found mine in the garbage."
She cringed as if it bothered her that he had learned what she'd done. "I should have emptied the can. Damn."
"Why didn't you want me to know?"
"I thought you might not take them. It was the least I could do since I was part of the reason they were ruined."
He offered her a smile that warmed her heart. "Thank you, Tabitha."
It was the first time he'd said her name. His rich, deep accent sent a shiver over her.
Before she could stop herself, she placed her hand against his cheek. She half-expected him to pull away.
He didn't. He merely stared up at her with those curious black eyes.
She was struck by his handsomeness. By his inner pain, which made her own heart ache for him. And before she could think better of it, she dipped her head down so that she could capture his lips with her own.
Valerius was completely unprepared for her action. Never had a woman initiated a kiss with him. Never. Tabitha was bold with her exploration, demanding, and it sizzled through his body like lava.
Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her back.
Tabitha moaned at the decadent taste of her general. Her tongue brushed against his fangs, giving her a chill. He was lethal and deadly.
Forbidden.
And for a woman who prided herself on following no one's rules but her own, it made him even more appealing.
She straddled him in the chair and sat down in his lap.
He didn't protest. Instead, he dropped his hands from her face and trailed them over her back while she pulled the tie from his hair and loosened the thick, black strands that slid like silk against her fingers.
She could feel his erection as it pressed against the center of her body, igniting her desire even more.
It'd been so long since she'd been with a man. So long since she had felt a desire this potent to wrap herself around one. But she wanted Valerius badly, even though he should be completely off her menu.
Valerius's head swam as Tabitha trailed her lips along the length of his jaw, then under his chin, to his neck. Her hot breath blistered him. It had been centuries since he'd taken a woman who knew what he was.
A woman he didn't have to kiss carefully for fear of her discovering his fangs.
Not once had he ever been with a woman this exciting. One who met him so openly. So wildly. There was no fear whatsoever in this woman. No holding back.
She was fierce and passionate and completely feminine.
Tabitha knew she shouldn't be doing this. Dark-Hunters weren't allowed to get involved with women. They weren't allowed any emotional attachments at all except for maybe a Squire.
She could sleep with Valerius just once and then she would have to let him go.
But more than that, her entire family hated this man and she should, too. She should be repulsed by him. Only she wasn't. There was something about him that was irresistible.
Against all sanity and reason, she wanted him.
You're just horny, Tabby, let him go.
Maybe it was just that simple. It'd been almost three years since she'd broken up with Eric and in that time she hadn't been with anyone else. No one had even appealed to her as anything more than a passing curiosity.
Well, except for Ash, but she knew better than to make a move on him.
And even he didn't make her sizzle like this. But then, he didn't have the pain inside him that Valerius carried-or if he did, he was better at hiding it around her.
She felt as if Valerius needed her somehow.
Just as she reached for the zipper of his pants, the phone rang.
Tabitha ignored it until Marla used her walkie-talkie to say, "It's Amanda, Tabby. She says for you to pick up the phone. Now."
She groaned in frustration. She gave Valerius a hot, quick kiss before she got up. "Please don't say a word while I'm on the phone," she warned him.
Since Amanda had married Kyrian, she had become incredibly psychic, and if she heard Valerius's voice, she would know instantly who he was. Tabitha was sure of it. It was the last thing she wanted to deal with.
She picked up the wall phone in the kitchen. "Hey, Mandy, whatcha need?"
Tabitha turned to watch Valerius as he put himself back together. He pulled his hair back and replaced the small black tie she had removed.
He returned to being regal and rigid as he picked up his fork and began eating again.
Her sister was babbling on about a bad dream, but it wasn't until the term "Spathi Daimon" came up that Tabitha pulled her attention away from Valerius.
"I'm sorry, what?" she asked Amanda.
"I said that I had a bad dream about you, Tabby, that you were seriously hurt in a fight. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Are you sure? You sound kind of strange to me."
"You interrupted me from work."
"Oh," Amanda said, accepting the lie, which made Tabitha feel a little guilty. Tabitha wasn't used to keeping anything from her twin. "Okay. In that case, I won't keep you. But you be careful for me. I have a really bad feeling that won't go away."
Tabitha felt it, too. It was something undefinable and at the same time persistent. "Don't worry. Ash is in town and there's an extra Dark-Hunter he moved in. Everything's fine."
"Okay. I'm trusting you to watch your back... But, Tabby?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop lying to me. I don't like it."