A slight hesitation from Roux. Then, “Would you agree to a truce until we return to Harpina?”
“Not even to spare my life.” Truth. He asked for too much. Looked like her pride won this round, after all, escaping a brutal battering.
He heaved a sigh. “How about a temporary cease-fire that ends as soon as the wraith is dead?”
Oh. Well. A more palatable outcome.Sorry, pride. You gotta take one for the team.
Before she could respond, a series of raps sounded at the door. A feminine voice with a tone so perfect it could only belong to a siren called through the block, “Yoo-hoo. Mr. Sausage Man. It’s go time!”
Blythe spun. She recognized that timbre. The one she’d heard inside her head when she’d first awoken in Roux’s arms.
Speaking of the Astra, he closed his eyes as his shoulders rolled in. A pose of dejection.
“Tonight’s date is here,” he muttered. “I had to pick the first contender while you slept. I went with the siren who sang to you.”
Why did he look and sound so disgruntled about this? Did he have no desire to use the women of Ation as his own personal harem?
An admirable trait. Not that it mattered. “That’s my cue to beat feet, I guess,” Blythe said, stepping in the direction of what she hoped was a private bathroom with a tub and running water. She’d change into something less comfortable and head out.
Her gaze caught on the crown anchored to his backpack, and she missed her next step. The urge to race to that gorgeous array of crystals, to hold it, to try it on and see how it fit drifted through her.
Focus.She reached the door, turned the knob, and peeked inside—yep, a bathroom with a wooden tub and copper pipes.
“You will stay here.” Roux’s lids popped open and narrowed. “In fact, you will remain within my sight at all times.”
I will, will I?“Aw, does little Rue and his Winky Boo Boo seek a chaperone?”
His lips compressed into a thin line. “Word of the tournament hasn’t yet spread far or wide enough. One rule should hold particular interest to you—you aren’t to be harmed. You are the sister of my Commander’sgravita, and I will protect you unless you attempt to compromise my task. Force me to choose between you and my mission, however, and I will. I’ll kill you myself, and I’ll do it without hesitation.”
That, she believed. Which meant she hadn’t detected reluctance a bit ago. On the contrary. She’d sensed resignation. He planned to bed his babes in front of Blythe. But so what? Someone make her a bowl of popcorn. She’d offer commentary from beginning to end. From the size of his penis to his inability to find a G-spot with a miner’s hat and a map.
Except, why should he be allowed to experience a single moment of pleasure? And why should she let him call the shots? It was bad enough that the females of this world already believed Blythe required a male to fight her battles for her. A humiliating truth she would rectify as soon as possible all by her lonesome.
Yeah, she’d made a mistake earlier, thinking to use him to slay Penelope on her behalf. Eight years out of practice had screwed with Blythe’s brain, that was all. If she couldn’t defend the honor of her family and harpies in general, no matter the odds stacked against her, all in the name of vengeance, she didn’t deserve the nine stars decorating her wrist.
Another series of raps came, followed by another and another. No way was Blythe sticking around, bowing to his dictates, and making things easy for him. Let him spend his date searching for “the sister of his Commander’sgravita.”
“Ready or not, I’m entering,” the siren called, her patience gone. She kicked at the door. Hinges pulled, and wood split. “I’m Monna, by the way.”
“Enjoy your night. Or not.” Knowing she wouldn’t survive her next actions if she reactivated the link to Penelope, Blythe buried every ounce of her hatred. A bandage to a hemorrhaging wound that wouldn’t hold for long.
“Harpy,” he rasped. “What are you planning?”
She grinned, earning a double blink. And okay, yes, without the hatred coloring her perception, she couldn’t deny the reaction appealed to her. Or that his powerful body stole her breath. Of course, she liked looking at lightning, too. That didn’t mean she should reach out and grab it.
Splinters rained from the door frame. Any second the siren would breach the perimeter.
“Catch me if you can, Rue.” Blythe blew him a kiss, spun on her heel, and sprinted toward the windows. With the dress clutched close, she dived through an opening, soaring into the night.
9
THE CHASE
“No!” Roux teleported to the window and leaned out, reaching—“No,” he repeated as he swiped air.
His gaze cut through the darkness, Blythe’s descent as clear as if halogens spotlighted her. In a split second, he calculated her trajectory. Then he materialized in the exact spot she was to land, intending to catch her—a curse exploded from him. He hadn’t moved an inch. Thanks to his oath to stick near his dates, the ability to teleport deserted him.
All he could do was watch as the harphantom hurled toward the ground.