Darkness whirled around him and then he was standing in the front garden of the Tokyo mansion. He strode to the house and unlaced his boots.
Froze when Cass’s voice rang in the late afternoon air.
“I need to take care of Milos. I’ve left him alone too long already.” Cass sighed, a light sound that teased his ears but did nothing to calm his mood as it took a sharp nosedive.
Who the hell was Milos?
Acid burned through his veins, settled in his stomach and scoured it.
Cass had been giving him the cold shoulder since Hong Kong and the moment in the bath, had avoided him for two days straight. It had been what he wanted, so why had he hated every moment of it?
Why had he hated the fact she had been keeping her distance?
Was this why she had avoided him? She felt bad that she had wanted him in that moment, when she had another man. Whoever the bastard was, he was Greek. For some reason, that only made him angrier.
“Are you strong enough to do this?” Marinda sounded concerned.
“All charged up again. I have enough strength to transport myself to Karavostasis, take care of Milos’s needs for a day or two, and then I’ll be able to transport myself back here.”
Take care of Milos’s needs?
Daimon wanted to growl at that.
“Give him my love and a hug from me.” Marinda’s warm words only increased Daimon’s urge to growl.
Cass’s signature disappeared and Daimon kicked off his boots, dumped them on the rack and opened the front door, trying to ignore the black urge to follow her. He made a beeline for his room in the north wing, striding past Marinda, needing a moment to rein in his needs before they got out of control and got him into trouble.
The darkness seething in his veins refused to abate, had him shoving the white panel door of his room open and pacing in a circle on the golden straw mats. Who was Milos? Her lover? Husband?
He tunnelled his fingers through his hair and clutched it, clawed it back until his scalp stung.
What did it matter to him?
A growl pealed from his lips.
A lot.
It mattered a lot.
He pivoted and stepped before he could consider what he was doing, and the cold dark of the teleport gave way to warmth as sunshine bathed him. The dry air smelled of earth, and to his right waves gently rolled over a stony shore, tugging at the pebbles and shifting them around.
Daimon blew out his breath and opened his eyes, stared at the white blocky two-storey buildings that hugged the curving bay of Karavostasis and the brown hills spotted with pale boulders that rose above them.
The small ramshackle village was quiet in the morning sunshine, only a few older mortals coming and going along the seafront beneath the trees that followed the sweeping line of the beach, clutching bread and exchanging greetings as they passed each other.
This was where Cass lived?
Did she live here with Milos, playing the doting wife?
He tried to shut out the image of her with another man as he picked his way down the bluff, the ochre soil already warm beneath his bare feet.
He should have at least put some shoes on. What did it matter though? He didn’t intend for anyone to see him. When he reached the bottom of the small rocky promontory, he eased down onto his backside and waited. He had no idea where Cass lived, but if she had been gone a while, there was a chance she might need to visit the small store.
Unless her lover had already stocked the cupboards for her.
He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to picture her in one of the small villas, doing mundane things like cooking lunch or baking bread. Homely things.
It wasn’t a problem.
He found it impossible to imagine Cass in that role. She didn’t dress like a woman who did such things, and she hadn’t once shown any inclination to cook. She struck him as the sort of woman who preferred to have someone wait on them.
He opened his eyes and scanned the area.
None of the houses were big or grand enough to warrant hiring staff.
He growled when his mind supplied that Milos probably took care of the domestic things.
Worshipping Cass in every way possible.
That growl cut short as the blue door of the store opened and Cass walked out.
Wearing the same slinky and sexy black dress she always did.
No one batted an eye as she greeted them. In fact, they all bowed their heads and one of the older women even stopped her for a brief conversation. When the woman walked away, it was with a smile.
And a look of relief on her face.
It struck him that no one viewed Cass as out of place because they knew she was a witch, and that she helped them.
Which seemed impossible.
Cass didn’t have a kind bone in her body.
He instantly took that back. She did. He had seen it more than once, especially when she was around Marinda, and she had done all she could to heal his brothers whenever they had been injured.
He just didn’t want to soften towards her, and admitting she had good traits as well as bad ones, was a path that would lead to him doing just that.
He wanted to be angry with her.
His eyes slowly widened.
Because he was jealous.
He tried to discount that, to laugh at the impossible notion that he was envious of the bastard Cass had come to see, who lived on this beautiful island with her.
But he couldn’t.
He eased onto his feet and tailed Cass, keeping his distance from her, nodding as he passed the old woman who Cass had comforted. He was tempted to ask what Cass had said to her and about the things she did for the community, but the thought of losing sight of Cass kept him
