Eternal Rider - Larissa Ione [42]
“You mentioned Greece when you gave me your phone number,” she mused.
To her credit, she didn’t freak out again. Like any competent warrior, she surveyed her surroundings, taking note of the environment, and he had no doubt she’d logged every exit. Good girl. When she was done, she attempted to get to her feet, but he’d caged her between his body and the wall. He stood, offered her a hand, which she ignored.
So she was skittish and stubborn. Talk about a frustrating combination.
She scrambled to her feet on her own and slid along the wall to put a yard of distance between them. “This is all so crazy. Demons? Hellhounds? Fallen angels? Why am I involved in this? What did I do?”
Good questions. Too bad he didn’t have any good answers. “Wrong place, wrong time. When the hellhound gave you Hell’s Kiss—”
“He didn’t kiss me,” she ground out. “He’s a dog.”
“He’s more than a dog, and at some point, he licked you on the mouth. Do you remember that?”
Frowning, she nodded slowly. “I’d just helped him. He’d been shot and hit by a car. He healed remarkably fast once I removed the bullet, though.”
“Because he’s a hellhound. They’re hard to kill, but The Aegis shot him with an enchanted slug. He would have died if not for you. They don’t give their bond over to just anyone. You made a major impression, and he gave you his life.”
“Gave me his life?”
“Hell’s Kiss bonds your life forces. Any time you’re injured, you’ll draw from him and vice versa. You’ll both heal with supernatural speed. The catch is that if he’s injured, you’ll feel the drain on your energy. The more severely he’s hurt, the worse it’ll be for you. It’s possible that he could completely drain you to death.”
She tugged down one of her sleeves that had ridden up to expose her forearm. “Aren’t you the bearer of fun news.”
He shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, being bonded to a hellhound lengthens your lifespan.” At least, it would if she wasn’t hosting an agimortus, which would likely drain her faster than the hellhound’s life force could recharge her. “He must have been seriously grateful, because hellhounds are immortal, but by bonding to a mortal, he lost his longevity. He’ll still be hard to kill as long as you’re healthy, but when you die, so will he.”
She pondered that. “Are you immortal?”
“Yes. But with most immortals, there are ways to kill them—vampires will live forever unless they’re exposed to sunlight, beheaded, or staked in the heart. But I’m indestructible. I can’t be killed.” Except by Deliverance, the dagger forged specifically to take out the Horsemen.
“Vampires are real?” Cara wrapped her arms around her midsection as though trying to hold herself together. He hadn’t had the same luxury when he learned the supernatural world was real—his arms had been shackled behind his back as he watched his wife tortured and killed. “Okay, so how did my helping the… hellhound… get me involved in all of this?”
“I told you Sestiel took the hound to keep his own whereabouts hidden. He’d been targeted for assassination and needed protection.”
She looked down at her feet again, which were pale even against the white marble. “Why did someone want him dead?”
Now things were going to get tricky. He gestured to the black leather three-piece sectional sofa that Limos had made him buy. Because every guy needed to seat twelve full-grown men on a freaking couch.
“Sit. I’ll send for some food if you’re hungry.”
“I’m not hungry. I don’t want to sit down.” She crossed her arms over her chest in stubborn defiance. “I want to know what the hell is going on.”
Ares was not accustomed to taking orders, and he made that clear with a firm, “You know what you need to for now.”
“Really?” An angry flush reddened her face to her hairline. “I know everything? You said before we left the hotel that I was in danger. What about the people at the B&B? Did it blow up? Is that what happened? Did people die because I’m the