“I am Hecate’s most loyal follower.”
I stared at her for a second before shaking my head. “I’m sorry. It’s not ringing a bell.” I set my empty scotch glass on a table. “Can we move on, though? Who you are doesn’t really concern me. It’s more what you know. What did you do with the bald wonder, Xan the Man, and where is my daughter?”
Lizzie—or Medea—finished her scotch and set her empty glass beside mine.
She grinned, showing her teeth. I hadn’t noticed before, but they were dangerous and many, like those of a shark. Actually, with each passing second, Medea turned less and less human. Her skin leathered and sagged. Her eyes glowed a brilliant pink, as if she had smoked more pot than mortally recommended. Her fingers shifted into talons. Shadow-dark hair grew from her shaved head and moved like living snakes around her shoulders. And in a blink, she shifted back into the gorgeous, mysterious woman in a sexy, red kimono—petite, shaved head, and rock star beautiful.
I didn’t recognize her real name, nor did I recognize her Bathory name, but I’m sure she held some weight in some arenas. It was best for me to bite my tongue and stuff my fists in my pockets for now. “Well,” I said, glancing at the empty glasses of scotch, “can I at least have another?”
Like an eager host, Medea set her palm over my tumbler. Amber liquid filled the glass. “Ice?”
“Only if it’s warm,” I said, reaching for my freshly concocted drink and sniffing it. “Smoky,” I said. “With a hint of—” I swirled some more of it around my mouth, “brown sugar? It’s sweet.” I swallowed it and finished the rest in a shot. “Is it poisoned?”
Medea leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Her kimono fell off one shoulder, sending my survival instincts into a frenzy. That’s reproduction for those readers unable to catch my poorly-delivered jokes. I hate that my two heads are always at odds with each other.
“You suspect me of such hideousness? I despise poison.” She looked me up and down. My body shivered and flushed with heat beneath her hungry gaze. She had spent the past few minutes warming me up to an enthrallment, and now she meant to deliver the final blow—pun very much intended. “You are… quite handsome.”
“Most women use the word ‘rugged.’”
She reached to her waist and gripped the belt holding her kimono together.
I tensed. My stomach knotted. My lips needed excessive licking. My hands felt way too cold.
She pulled the rope and the kimono fell open. She shimmied out of it, and the fabric dropped to the hardwood floor like a puddle of blood. Medea stood pale and naked before me. My grip tightened on the tumbler as my eyes surveyed the hills and valleys of her exquisite body.
My breath hitched, and I had to set the glass back on the table, planting a hand on the surface for support. I couldn’t look away from her. Believe you me, I wanted to. But her enthrallment had wrapped around my mind and senses like a vice.
“It’s a cold night,” she said, her voice soft.
“I noticed that.” I nodded at her breasts and glanced at my crotch, hoping she hadn’t made a joke at my expense.
Medea stepped toward me, placing her left hand on the back of my neck and her right on the inside of my upper thigh. When she spoke, her lips brushed against mine, and I stiffened like a board.
“Your daughter doesn’t belong to this world anymore.” As she finished the declaration, her right hand found my zipper and undid my pants. Xander hadn’t offered me any of his boxers, so… well, there was that. The motion froze me solid, not just physically, but mentally. Her enthrallment ensnared me like a fly in a web.
I lost my breath as her hand worked. She slid down my body and dropped to her knees.
“She…” I stuttered, using all the effort in the world to push sound through my lips. “She… left…” Tears filled my eyes as I panted with pleasure. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t make what Medea had said real. Mel didn’t belong to this world. What did that mean?
What did she mean by that? Why had she said it? The question rested in my mind like an anchor, sat on my tongue, but her enthrallment had weakened me to silence. It was a boast on her part. She told me what I came to find out, knowing I could do nothing about it.
I hadn’t been with a woman in seven years, and Medea played on that intense hunger and need. She had shown me her true form for a second, probably to start the enthrallment, and she had jabbed at my vulnerability from the moment I stepped onto her driveway. If she succeeded in pleasing me, I would know nothing more for the rest of my life but pleasing her.
I had to fight against her power. I pictured Callie and me standing in the desert and smiling. I pictured Mel pointing at a box of Cheerios. I focused on those images, shoving any lust and desire from my mind.
“She doesn’t… belong …to this world?” I asked. A string of control fluttered through my will. I grasped for it, hoping to latch onto it for some kind of support. “Where is she?” That time, the question came with solidity and force. The string turned into a rope, and I managed to climb back to solid ground.
I shoved Medea over.
My groin ached for her to return, but, as
