Foolish woman! Why would she do this? Did shewantto hurt? She had wings, yes, but they were tiny and not meant for flight.
A patter of footsteps let him know his date had entered the room. He cared not, keeping his attention fixed on the harpy. Despite the ruby and its weakening effects, Blythe managed to land with great ease and grace, rolling to her feet. Relief engulfed him.
She paused and craned her neck. Meeting his gaze, she bestowed another diabolical smile upon him and extended her middle finger in the air.
Like a bullet, she shot off, disappearing in the masses. Many more immortals than he’d counted upon his arrival to the royal lands. They celebrated around a bonfire, playing music, laughing, and fighting viciously.
“Don’t mind me,” his date cooed. “I’m just admiring the view.”
He pivoted on his booted heel. She stood merely two feet away, wearing something akin to a mortal bikini. The lovely black siren with curves for days had helped save Blythe; he’d thought to honor her by choosing her first, not encourage her advances.
Although, if he responded to her touch the same way he’d responded to Blythe’s, the date might go differently than he’d anticipated. After he caught the harpy. Which he would do.
He swiped out his arm and grabbed the siren’s bicep. “Come.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” She wiggled her brows at him. “I assure you, that’s why I’m here.”
He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he transported her to Blythe’s landing spot. He could flash only within the realm itself, and only to places he’d seen. “For this date, we’ll be traveling at lightning-fast speeds and hunting a harphantom.”
“Ohhh. An adventure. I’m impressed. I’m also all in.” She melted against him and traced her hands up his chest. “By the way, you can be all in, too, if you know what I mean.”
The contact aggravated his sensitized skin, and he stiffened. Why respond as usual with this stunning female when, only minutes before, he’d luxuriated in blissful contact with Blythe? A woman who despised him. Except when she lost her memory and ate him up with her eyes.
With the memory, his muscles bulged, burned, and hardened. His leathers pulled tight.
Roux scowled. Why did he crave her touch, and hers alone, as if he would die without it?
Had the torture master turned his talents on himself?
Chuckling, the siren rubbed against him. “You are loaded for bear, and I’m living for it. Rowr!”
He set her away and snapped, “If you’d like to keep your hands, do not touch me without permission.” And, all right, okay. Perhaps he understood Blythe’s violent reaction to his manhandling. Next time, he wanted her willing.
A bitter laugh lodged in his throat. As if she wouldeverbe willing again.
“Sure, sure. Permission. Got it.” The siren winked, all innocence, not the least bit abashed or discouraged. “Hey, for no reason in particular, do you happen to have a safe word?”
A muscle jumped beneath his eye. How was he supposed to deal with the females of this land? “Just...try to keep up with me.”
He stalked off, not waiting for her response, tracking Blythe’s scent. He approached a crowd congregated around a bonfire.
To the siren’s credit, she followed without complaint.
“He’s here!” someone shouted.
The music stopped. Every female in the vicinity scrambled over, forming a circle around him. That circle tightened as the immortals drew closer. A chorus of “Dibs” accompanied dreamy sighs.
“I hear he’s a villain, not a hero,” someone said, and many of the sighs turned to purrs.
Then the women got serious, preparing to rush at him. Roux readied his claws.
“Don’t you dare touch! He’s mine tonight,” Monna screeched, the tenor of her voice different than before. “If you screw this up for me, I swear I’ll sing all of you into the flames.”
Sirens had an aptitude for compelling other species with their melodies, and hers struck him as far stronger than most.
Everyone scattered. A path opened up, and Roux increased his pace. There. A banshee was changing into the leather dress Blythe had carted from the room. Without thought, Roux flashed over, gripped the banshee by the throat and lifted her off her feet, constricting her airway before she was able to issue an ear-destroying death scream.
“What did you do to the harphantom?” he demanded. “Tell me!”