Aidan raised a hand higher and began to gather the sparks into a fireball. He lifted his face to the wild winds. He could not fathom ever doing this to Gregori. Even if he could defeat Gregori, he could not do this. Yet how many times had Gregori been forced to hunt a friend? A relative? A childhood playmate? How many such stains could one’s soul bear before there was no redemption?
I am with you, Aidan.Alexandria’s voice was a breath of fresh, clean air, untouched by the evil in front of him. Your soul is not black. I can see it, feel it, touch it with my own. What you do, you do out of necessity, not out of desire. Your friend fights to save himself. If his soul was black, he would not have stayed to protect me. He would have gone after the second vampire for the joy of the hunt, the kill. He stayed, Aidan. And he has gone to be alone where violence cannot touch him, where he has a chance to wait out his vow. That vow alone should tell both of you something. He is no selfish vampire, not even close to becoming one. He thinks of her. Finish your task, ugly as it is, and come back to me. Think of me.
I will often have to come to you with blood on my hands.
There was a small silence. Then he felt the brush of her hand and was astonished that she had reached out to him when she had never been trained. Her fingertips lingered on his jaw and trailed down his neck, conveying tenderness. I have been in the hands of a vampire, Aidan. You forget, I know the ugliness of evil. It is not in you, as you seem to think You hunt because you must, not from a need to kill. Perhaps at one time those who became vampires were good men, but the men you once knew are long gone from this earth. Perhaps Gregori and you give them peace.
Aidan allowed her words to rinse the sorrow from his mind, the terrible fear and dread that her very presence in his life had allowed him to feel. He shook his head over the irony of that. He had felt no emotion for so many centuries, and now, because Alexandria had come into his life, he knew the terrible burden, the sorrow of the hunter.
He sent the ball of fire racing toward the dead vampire, his attention now focused on his task. The ball entered the mined chest, and before his eyes the betrayer blackened, withered, became the ash of the earth once again. His gaze on the ashes, he built the wind with one hand. The gust came not from the sea but from the land, scattering the ashes into the waves that would carry them out to a fitting resting place. Aidan whispered an ancient chant to cleanse himself as well as his fallen friend. Squaring his shoulders, he stood tall and straight, then turned to face the direction of his home.
He could hear the sound of water, Alexandria’s murmur of pleasure as she stepped into the sunken tub. He could smell her scent, beckoning him. Smiling, he took to the air, feeling it move over his body, cleansing him.
Chapter Sixteen
Alexandria sat in the huge marble tub, her hair swept up into a topknot, bubbles brushing her skin like a thousand tiny fingers. Aidan paused in the doorway, his face drawn, his eyes holding shadows and a sad, haunted expression she wanted to erase for all time.
When she had felt his deep, disturbing sorrow, she had deliberately sent him erotic images, wanting to help him, wanting to comfort him. From a distance, knowing she didn’t have to face him, it had been easy to allow her imagination free rein. She had been shy at the thought of his return, when she would have to face whatever repercussions her vivid, wanton images had created.
Now though, seeing his beautiful eyes shadowed, haunted, holding such sorrow in their depths, washed every vestige of shyness away. She would do anything to remove that grief.
There was such a weariness in Aidan, he felt he might never move again. He could only stand in the doorway and stare at Alexandria, unable to believe his good fortune, unable to believe she was really with him, really forever in his life. Why him? Why was he the one staring into enormous sapphire eyes overflowing with joy at seeing him? Why not Gregori, who had given so much to their people, who had suffered so much and lost so much of himself in the process? Why not Julian, his soulmate, his twin, so dark and twisted with loneliness? Why was it that the gods had chosen to favor him?
“Because we were meant for one another,” she said softly, reading his thoughts. “Gregori has his lifemate, Aidan, and he has chosen to give her time to grow up. He’ll hold out; he has hope to keep him strong. As for your brother, I know him from your thoughts and memories. He has your strength, and he will endure forever if necessary.”
Aidan raked an unsteady hand through his windblown hair. He leaned his weight against the doorjamb and simply watched her with his unblinking golden gaze. She was so beautiful, so brave. Had he really done anything in his lifetime to deserve her, the happiness she brought him, the joy?
Alexandria shook her head, a slow smile curving her mouth, deepening the dimple that so intrigued him. “Of course you don’t deserve me. I’m so good and brave and perfect.” Her smile was teasing, frankly sexy, and as she shifted slightly beneath the fizzing bubbles her full breasts broke the surface, inviting his suddenly heated gaze.
“And so beautiful. Do not forget beautiful,” he said softly and straightened abruptly, his muscles rippling.
She felt her heart jump in anticipation. “Maybe. You certainly make me feel beautiful.” She tilted her chin, her sapphire eyes sexy, speculative. The look made his blood race.
His hand went to the buttons of his shirt, and he slowly slipped each one free, his eyes holding hers. She didn’t look away or look scared. Instead, she smiled that slow, sexy smile of blatant invitation.
“You have something in your mind, piccola,” he murmured softly, his body tightening in anticipation.
She shrugged, a lazy movement that sent ripples along the bubbling surface of the water. “I decided now would be a good time to try out something from one of those fantasies of yours.”
The shirt floated to the floor unnoticed. She had eyes only for him, an urgent singing in her blood, a fire sweeping through her.
“Do I have fantasies?” he asked softly. His body tightened, hardened, wanted, and needed. He could barely speak, barely move.
Her laughter slid over his skin caressingly. “I’d say some pretty interesting ones. But don’t get tooexcited. We’re going to start with something easy.”
His eyebrows rose as he reached down to remove his shoes and socks. His every movement was unhurried and lazy, but his eyes were molten with heat as his gaze devoured her. Alexandria’s breath caught in her throat. He was bending over, that was all, a casual, everyday movement, but his face was so sensual, his body so fluid yet controlled. She bit her lip, her lashes falling to hide her sudden surge of desire.
“I want you to want me, Alexandria,” he chided softly. “I need to know you want me. Do not hide from me.”
In spite of herself, her mouth was already curving in response, her dimples deepening. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful, Aidan.”
“Women are beautiful, not men.”
“You are beautiful,” she corrected him. “Look at yourself through my eyes.” It was a teasing challenge.
He found it hard to resist. And there wassomething sexy about seeing himself the way she saw him. The wanting, the needing. The hunger. His hands went to his slacks, pushing them from his hips with a deliberate slowness that sent anticipation curling through her.
“See?” She shifted to her knees in the tub, the bubbles fizzing around her narrow rib cage, her breasts bare and gleaming with beaded water. Her eyes were on his lean hips and hard, jutting masculinity as he stepped into the sunken tub, the bubbles swirling around his legs like tiny tongues lapping at his skin.