Grace hesitated as she and Selena rejoined Julian and Bill. The tension around Julian was tangible. His grip on the beer bottle so tight, she wasn't sure how he kept from shattering the glass.
'Hey, Bill,' Selena said as she draped her arms over her husband's neck. 'You wouldn't mind if I had a dance with Julian, would you?'
'Hell, yes, I'd mind.'
Immediately, Julian excused himself and went to the bar.
Grace quickly followed.
He ordered another beer as she came up behind him.
'You okay?' she asked.
'Fine.'
He didn't sound fine. He definitely didn't look fine. 'You know, I can tell you're not being honest with me. Now, 'fess up, Julian. What's wrong?'
'We should leave.'
'Why?'
He cast a glance over to Selena and Bill. 'I just think it would be wise.'
'Why?'
He growled low in his throat.
Before Julian could respond, three men came up beside him, and by the looks on their faces, Grace could tell they weren't happy.
Worse, Julian appeared to be the source of their ire.
The biggest was a body-builder monstrosity who was about three inches shorter than Julian, but quite a bit thicker and wider. He curled his lip as he ran his gaze over Julian's back. And it wasn't until that instant that Grace recognized him.
Her heart hammered. Physically, he'd changed a lot over the years. His face was broader, with premature wrinkles around his eyes, and he'd lost a great deal of hair. But he still had the same sneer.
'He was the one messing with Amber,' one of his flunkies said.
A deadly calm fell over Julian, and it sent a shiver down her spine. There was no telling what Julian might do, and judging by what she saw, Paul hadn't changed nearly as much inside as he had outside. A frat-boy poster-child, Paul had always traveled with an entourage. He believed in making a show of power in everything he did. That macho ego of his wouldn't let him leave until he pushed Julian into a fight.
She only hoped her general had more sense than to fall for such a stunt.
'Do you need something?' Julian asked without looking at Paul or his friends.
Paul laughed and slapped one of his friends across the chest. 'What kind of faggot accent is that? I thought you told me Pretty-boy here was after my girl. From the look and sound of him, I'd say he was after one of you.'
Julian turned and cut a glare to Paul that would have made anyone with sense back away.
Paul, of course, had no sense. He'd never had.
'What's the matter, Pretty-boy?' Paul mocked. 'Did I offend you?' He looked at his friends and shook his head. 'Just what I thought, he ain't nothing but a pretty, faggoty coward.'
Julian laughed, but the tone of it was more evil than happy.
'C'mon, Julian,' Grace said, taking his arm before things got any worse. 'Let's leave.'
Paul turned that sneer on her, until he recognized her. 'Well, well, Grace Alexander. It's been a while.' He clapped the short, dark-haired man next to him on the back. 'Hey, Tom, you remember Grace from college, don't you? Her little white panties put me over the top of our bet.'
Julian froze at the words.
Grace could feel the old pain swell, but she refused to show it. She would never again give Paul that power over her.
'No wonder he was after Amber,' Paul continued. 'He probably wanted to try a woman who doesn't cry all over him when he screws her.'
Julian whirled on Paul so fast that she could barely follow the motion. Paul swung. Julian ducked and sent a fist into Paul's ribs that knocked him five feet into the crowd.
Cursing, he ran back at Julian.
Julian moved to the side, tripped Paul and flipped him into the air.
Paul landed on his back.
Before he could move, Julian placed his foot on Paul's throat, and smiled a cold, small smile that chilled her all the way to her toes.
Paul grabbed Julian's shoe in both hands and tried to remove it. He shook from the effort of it, but still Julian kept his foot where it was.
'Did you know,' Julian asked in a casual tone that was truly terrifying, 'that it only takes five pounds to completely collapse your esophagus?'
Paul's eyes and arms bulged as Julian increased the weight on his neck.
'Please, man,' Paul begged as he tried to push Julian's shoe off his throat. 'Please don't hurt me, okay?'
Grace held her breath in terror as Julian applied even more pressure.
Tom took a step forward.
'Do it,' Julian said in warning, 'and I'll rip your heart out and feed it to your friend.'
Grace froze at the deadly look on Julian's face. This wasn't the tender man who made love to her at night. This was the face of the general who had once laid waste to Rome 's finest.
There was no doubt in her mind that Julian could, and would, carry out that threat. Judging by the pallor of Tom's face as he stepped back, she could tell he knew it, too.
'Please,' Paul begged again as tears fell down his face. 'Please don't hurt me.'
Grace swallowed as those haunting words tore through her. They were the same ones she had once cried in Paul's bed.
It was then Julian met her gaze. She saw the fury in Julian's eyes, as well as his desire to kill Paul for her.
'Let him go, Julian,' she said softly. 'His entire body isn't worth one molecule of yours.'
Julian looked down at Paul and narrowed his eyes. 'Where I come from, we butchered worthless cowards like you just for practice.'
Just as she was sure Julian was going to kill Paul, he stepped back. 'Get up.'
Rubbing his throat, Paul rose slowly to his feet.
Julian's cold, dead look actually made Paul flinch. 'You owe my lady an apology.'
Paul wiped his nose on the back of his hand. 'I'm sorry.'
'Say it like you mean it,' Julian said quietly.
'I'm sorry, Grace. Really. I'm very, very sorry.'
Before Grace could respond, Julian draped a possessive arm over her shoulders and walked her out of the club.
They didn't speak until they reached her car, but Grace could sense something was profoundly wrong with Julian. His entire body was tense, like a spring coiled way too tight.
'I wish you had let me kill him,' Julian said as she fumbled in her jeans pocket for her keys.
'Julian-'
'You have no idea how much it hurt for me to walk away from him. I am not the kind of man who just walks away.' He slammed his hand onto the top of her car, then spun around and growled like a cornered lion. 'Dammit, Grace. I once fed on the entrails of men like him. And I went from that to…'
Julian hesitated as two thousand years of repressed memories flooded through him. He saw himself as the respected leader he'd been. The hero of Macedonia. The man who had once made entire legions of Romans surrender as soon as they recognized his standard.
And then he saw himself as what he had become. An empty shell. A coveted pet, performing at the beck and call of bis summoner.
For two thousand years he had lived without emotions, lived without speaking more than a handful of words.
He had gone into survival mode. And he had lost himself to it.
