Phoebe saw a man.
A hero.
God, how he wanted to be that. To see the good in others, even though he knew them for the evil they were. To be anything other than the shattered, unfeeling shell who’d been walking this earth for so long, hurting and aching and lost. Wanting to feel something more than abandoned and forgotten.
Wanting to be part of someone.
To be loved and claimed.
It’d been so long since anyone had really cared.
Unable to resist her or the part of him that was still human, he reached for his last lifeline and pulled her against his chest for the one true psuché.
Phoebe closed her eyes as she tasted a passion the likes of which she’d never imagined. This was what she’d read about in those books Nia kept hidden from their mother. What the poets went mad trying to capture on paper. The passion that Hollywood never quite got right.
Savoring the taste and smell of her beautiful Daimon, she reached up and freed his white-blond hair so that it fell loose about his shoulders. Then she buried her hands in it.
Holy heaven! He was gorgeous beyond compare! Every part of her was on fire as she felt that hard, honed body flexing around hers.
He buried his lips against her throat as he picked her up and pressed her back against the wall.
Phoebe lifted her legs from the floor and wrapped them about his waist as chills ran up and down her entire body.
She was on fire. Until he sank his fangs into her neck. The moment he did that, her body exploded with pleasure the likes of which was indescribable. She shook from the force of her very first orgasm.
Urian growled as he tasted her pleasure. Wanting more of that sweetness, he slid his hand down under her shirt and beneath the elastic band of her panties to the sweet moisture so the he could stroke her and let her ride his fingers while he fed.
Phoebe groaned as he worked magic on her. Wanting more, she moved to bite him.
Urian immediately withdrew. “No!”
Panting and shaking, he stepped to the other side of the room. Every bit as disoriented, she scowled at him. “Why did you stop?”
“If you bite me, you’ll become a Daimon.” He wiped at the sweat on his brow. “You can feed me, but I can’t feed you.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Welcome to Kalosis,” he said bitterly. “That’s where I live.” He headed for the window.
“Urian, wait!”
“No, Phoebe.” He glanced to her door. “This is a mistake. Everything I touch, I destroy. And I don’t want to destroy you.”
Not anymore. Not even if his father killed him for it.
And he would.
March 4, 1989
Stryker paced his office furiously. His commanders were gathered there as he reamed them all.
Including Urian.
“They’re mortal. Mere Apollites. How in the name of Hades can they continue to elude my best strike teams? You are Illuminati, are you not?”
Allegra and Trates turned away.
Urian met his gaze without flinching. Mostly because he was the reason. He’d personally killed two of the Daimons his father had sent after Phoebe. But he wasn’t about to tell him that.
