Giving It Up for the Gods (10 page)

He’d behaved like an idiot—just growled at her and ordered her to strip. She was supposed to turn sulky and order him to keep his hands off her, but he’d overplayed his hand. That ten minutes he’d spent brushing her hair was the highlight of his long, painful life. Her tresses had flowed through his fingers, soft, silky, and seductive. His dick swelled at the thought. He’d do anything to possess and protect her, but instead, he’d used his prejudices like a weapon and driven her away. She was beauty and desire, and he was a mindless beast.

When he’d brushed her hair, her pleasured moans had been sweet music to him, yet she still hadn’t sung a note. One day, if he got lucky, she’d sing for him alone. If she let him back into her life, he’d gentle his lusty demon and fuck her slowly. Fast and hard sounded good too. Anything to hear her soft, hungry sigh again.

He pictured her naked, lounging—sloe-eyed and lazy—in their bedroom while he lifted her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. Or maybe she’d be naked on all fours, ass in the air as he mounted her from behind.

He was drowning in all the emotions he thought Pluto’s demons had tortured out of him. With her, he craved companionship, love, and a future. All the happiness he’d lost when the gods stripped his powers glowed on his horizon. His for the taking, if only he dared. Loving a Siren would leave him…vulnerable. Crush him, maybe.

Even the brush of her hand on his arm sent sensual messages to his dick; then he’d remember she was a Siren. A loudmouthed, argumentative Siren.
And thank the Fates, she’s mine.

He froze, one leg over the windowsill, his weight on the one still in the room as he watched her swerve through narrow gaps between cars and dodge around guardrails. He was a natural-born fighter, a demon-possessed fallen god, which meant he hadn’t a clue how to tempt an angry Siren into his bed. The one time he’d seduced a woman, it had turned out…badly.

The sway of Lindy’s hips as she moved through the car park set his cock chafing against the rough denim of his jeans. He’d never wanted a woman more, but he’d let his prejudice control him. He hadn’t a clue how to put that to rights.

A group of jocks—unshaven, wearing football shirts, jeans, and bandannas—laughed and joked as they headed across the full car park toward their SUV. Part of him wondered what they were up to, and why they were there, but maybe they’d stopped over to catch a game this afternoon or something. Mostly, he concentrated on Lindy’s long legs and pert derriere.

Jase knew the instant she spotted them. With a confident swagger, she tossed her hair like a Hollywood starlet and headed toward them. She trilled a few notes, but the breeze scrambled them as he strained to hear.

The jocks turned toward her as one.
Stupid humans, thinking they can take what’s mine
. Then one of them opened a car door for her, and Lindy slid inside like a queen accepting her dues. Her new companions piled in the back.
What’s she doing? She knows nothing about them. What if they hurt her? Doesn’t she know she’s mine?

He wanted her naked, her head tossing about the pillow as he sucked her pussy. Or maybe he would lie back and let her ride the solid length of his cock. Whatever way she wanted him was fine by him.
And she’s just gotten in a car with some other men. What if she gave it up to one of them?

They’re dead if they touch her
. Finally he moved, and for once his demon didn’t fight him. With a low, rumbling growl, he leaped on the nearest car. No dodging or twisting through parked cars for him. Five huge steps took him from car roof to car roof, but he was too late. The SUV had already left the car park for who knew where, and he had a real bad feeling about her new companions. He roared like King Kong and upped his pace. By the time he reached the main road, her ride had vanished in the heavy traffic.

* * * *

Lindy sat in the front seat—spine stiff, her gaze fixed on the road. Jase had stayed faithful to his lost love for centuries. His heart must still belong to some wretched woman who Lindy hated already. That meant she had…no chance. No wonder he’d resented Saul shoving them together. She’d left him alone with his past, but she’d longed for them to share a future.

Instead, she smiled at the driver as he weaved away through the traffic. She’d hit her limit with Jase’s endless scorn, verbal abuse, and rough handling. Not that Sirens were soft, but if she didn’t walk away, Jase might really hurt her one day. So far, all he’d bruised was her heart. Shattered it, really.

She couldn’t break the feeling that she’d done something stupid, but the way her new companions vied for her attention soothed her ruffled feathers. All she had to do was bed one of them, although she still had to make up her mind which one. They lacked the intensity she found so appealing in Jase. He was dangerous and deadly; they were mundane and bland. None of them had gold-flecked eyes that darkened into black disks lit by red flames. Theirs were nondescript blue, dull even, and their complexions were pallid from being indoors too long. At least they wanted to please her, whereas Jase didn’t give a damn. Best of all, they didn’t suffer from Sirenophobia.

“Let me buy you lunch,” one of her new companions begged.

“I’ll take you to dinner and a show if you’d like,” another chimed in.

The third thought a moment and suggested, “Come back to my place. I’ll cook us an intimate dinner for two.”

The driver eyed her as though she were the dinner the others suggested. His lust-filled leer made her feel self-conscious and uncomfortable. Mentally, she crossed him off her list of possible bedmates. She shuddered when he put his hand on her knee. “I say we drive out into the country, and the five of us have some fun. Are you up for that, Lindy?”

Suddenly, she wasn’t. Bedding anyone would be hard after meeting Jase. Besides, screwing a whole clutch of humans didn’t seem much different than letting Neptune and his mermen tie her down on his altar and screw her. Deep down she realized strength didn’t lie in numbers—no matter how many lovers her sister Sirens took. It lay in one-on-one loving with a man who made her heart beat in a fast, tribal rhythm.

A man like Jase. She’d fallen for the one man who didn’t want her. How stupid was that? With a brittle smile, she told her new companions, “No, I don’t want to go for a drive, but dinner and a show sounds great.”

There, she’d made her choice. Except she’d made it too late. The backseat passengers lit hand-rolled cigarettes and inhaled deeply. A sweet, sickly smell rolled over the headrest and flowed over her. Neptune’s balls, she was stuck in a car with three weed-smoking guys and their creepy, hand-on-her-leg driver.

The passengers exchanged knowing glances, and one of them giggled. The driver made a sharp right and headed out of town. These idiots didn’t know who they were messing with, but she wished she hadn’t sung of love, desires, and sorrow. All the mixed feelings Jase sparked inside her had tinged her tune with her sexual longing. Leaving him almost broke her, but if she stayed, she’d lose herself in his darkness. It would eat away at her until she was empty inside.

She watched green fields and low stone walls flash past the windows. The testosterone levels in the car rocketed. These men whisked her away from her demon, but their intentions weren’t good. She’d wait until they stopped; then she had two choices. Either she sang so loud she shattered their eardrums, which might cause permanent damage, or she turned her Siren’s savage streak loose on their collective asses.

Either way, she’d be the one leaving with the car. “Look, guys, I just wanted a ride away from my abusive ex. I’ve had enough of him dominating and demeaning me, and I’m not taking any shit from you. Just take me back to town, and I’ll be on my way.”

There they went, exchanging those knowing looks again. This time their smiles weren’t so charming—more menacing and lustful. For the first time, she wondered why they’d been in that particular car park. As if one of them read her mind, he gloated. “Today’s shaping up real good. A cheaper supplier of weed and a woman to play with.”

His companion giggled again. “Yeah, as much sex as we want, whatever our new lady friend says.”

A human female would be terrified, but Lindy was flat-out furious. Hands-on justice appealed to her warrior instincts. If she had her way, she’d castrate them and leave them screaming. That way, they’d never hurt a woman again.

The driver’s hand crept up her leg, and when she brushed it off, he simply slapped it down again. Higher this time, and he enjoyed a grope of her thigh. “Now, lady, you just got in a car with four randy strangers. This isn’t the time to turn coy.”

She shrugged and pulled his little finger at 90 degrees to his hand. She felt it leave the socket, but she twisted until she heard a bone break. The car swerved. The driver screamed and shook his hand madly. The car ricocheted from curb to curb like a bullet. He swore like a trooper and battled the steering wheel one-handed.

She shrugged again. “Not coy, just unwilling. Take me back to town, and I won’t hurt you again.”

“How about”—Mr. I’ll Cook You an Intimate Dinner sniped—“you play along, and we won’t hurt you.”

Fate sealed. Broken human bones ahead.

The driver slammed the accelerator to the floor, roared on for a couple of miles; then they turned into an empty field. He grinned as he parked up and told her, “Get out.”

Chapter Ten

Lindy hummed a military tune as she slid her long legs out of the car. Two steps away from the vehicle, and she balanced on the balls of her bare feet. “All right, gentlemen, school’s in session.”

The other three joined the driver. Each one had a giant hard-on. What the hell had their dealer given them? Viagra-soaked weed? At least that gave her some easy targets. The driver—the obnoxious guy with the touchy-feely hands and the broken finger—apparently thought because she stood about as high as his shoulder she’d be easy pickings.

Big mistake.

Lindy sidestepped his halfhearted attempt to push her over, and grabbed his balls. She wrenched upward; then she twisted as though she were wringing out a dishcloth. He gave a pained shriek as he fell at her bare feet. She stomped her heel into his groin. He curled his knees into his chest, his screams echoing across the empty field.

Two tried to blindside her. Her fingers extended into sharp talons, and she scratched bloody stripes across their cheeks. She ducked low, then spun to the right as she ducked their wild punches. The fourth crept up behind her, as quiet as an elephant. Subtle definitely wasn’t his forte. She spun sideways. Her evasive tactics sent him tumbling to the ground. She back-kicked her bare foot into his belly. Air exploded from his lungs. His hands clamped protectively across his stomach, and he rolled out of her reach.

His friends tried to drag him back to the car, but he was a dead weight they couldn’t shift. Instead, they fell in a tangle of arms, legs, and curses. Lindy stood back and waited. They came to their feet, throwing punches. The drugs made them think they were Wladimir Klitschko or his brother. Really, she thought as she buffed her nails on her borrowed T-shirt, they’re not.

Finally she attacked. Three Siren-strength punches. One broken nose. One eye swollen shut. One throat so bruised its owner could barely breathe.

When all four drug-smoking, would-be rapists lay battered and beaten at her feet, the driver asked, “What the hell are you?”

Neptune’s balls, she’d give anything to say
your worst nightmare
, but she refused to do clichés. Instead, she took a stage bow, one hand in front of her waist, the other behind her back. “Country-and-western singer and car thief extraordinaire. Toss your keys over away from you and your deadbeat mates, or I’ll beat the shit out of you in earnest.”

He groaned as he moved, but he did as she ordered.

Behind them, one of the druggies roused enough to groan. “That was some seriously bad shit that guy sold us.”

Lindy had just picked up the keys when a small group of bikers pulled up on the main road alongside the field.
Shit and corruption! Neptune’s goon squad has found me.

Four humans versus one Siren were pretty good odds. Four mermen—Neptune’s warrior elite—and she had no chance. She stood taller, all bravado and aggression—anything to show them she wasn’t the sort of girl to go down without a fight.

* * * *

Jase loathed his demon. Strong and stupid, it thrived on the adrenaline rush of a kill. Always, he teetered on a knife-edge between mindless action and rational thoughts. For centuries, he’d hated Sirens as much as he hated the monster inside him. He could live with skin that glowed red and horns that stood at attention whenever his emotions ran high. He hated how his demon lusted after blood and pain. Just another item on the long list of things he despised the Sirens for. Then Lindy changed everything, but he’d blown it. Hell, whatever chance he’d had with her had gone down the pan when he bullied her earlier. And was this damn town holding a black SUV convention? Every second car matched the one those creeps had carried Lindy off in. Thanks to his demon, Jase had lost the woman he was supposed to protect—driven her off, more like—and if anything happened to her, his demon would run amok. Blood would stain the streets, and if he summoned his legions, things might turn apocalyptic.

If he could just get past her origins, she’d be perfect. He hated Sirens. Always had. Always would. Lindy was different. Knowing she was out there, alone and unprotected, was driving him insane.

Finally the other part of him—the fearless warrior who had once walked Mount Olympus—regained a semblance of control. He’d struggled with his demon for centuries, but either they made an uneasy truce, or he’d lose Lindy.

The walk back to the hotel room sucked, and it seemed empty without Lindy’s presence. Jase’s feet dragged, but since she’d fled his protection, it was time to call in the cavalry. He sent out a mental summons.
“Saul, Merc, I ballsed up, and I could really do with a hand. Now.”

The electric light flickered on and off a few times; then Mercury appeared—winged helmet on his head, winged sandals on his feet. Saul arrived moments later, but he walked down the corridor to knock on the hotel room door. It opened before he touched it.