Ginny parked the Yukon in front of the casita. There was a light in the main room but the rest of the little house was dark. Her mind had been spinning all the way from town, and she really wished her thoughts didn’t keep bringing her back to the same crappy conclusion.

Alton reached for the door handle. She put her hand on his arm. “Wait.” She glanced toward the house and back at Alton. His face was hidden in shadow, but light from the front porch reflected in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Dax. I’m worried about Dax.” She shifted around and leaned her shoulder against the back of the car seat. “Today he said the way we described the demon king sounded like we were describing his demon body, the one he gave up. What if it is his body? What if the demon king has targeted Dax? Maybe there’s still some sort of link between the ex-demon part of Dax and the body he used to have, and maybe that’s why he’s the one the demon went after today. Not because he was left alone near the portal, but because he’s more susceptible to the demon’s powers. Does that make sense?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Alton shifted around and faced her. “I wasn’t thinking of that so much, but I have been worried that, in his weakened state, Dax might be easier for a demon to possess. If demons could take him over, they’d have his demon powers along with his considerable strength. He’s not himself right now. What happened today weakened him.”

Ginny sighed. “I hadn’t thought of that, but that’s another part of the same problem. We need to talk to him. He’s got to be aware of the danger he could be facing.”

“I agree.” Alton leaned his head back against the seat. “Dax is my closest friend, besides Taron. We have fought together and faced death together. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to any of us. C’mon.” She got out of the Yukon and followed Alton into the casita. Eddy was sitting by herself in the front room with the television on.

“Hi, guys.” She waved them to a couple of empty seats. “It’s not looking good. Demons have hit the nightly news.”

Alton sat beside her on the couch. Ginny took a seat on the footstool in front of him. “What’s going on?”

“Unexplained animal attacks. The local shelter is full, but after a couple of hours in the cages, vicious animals are suddenly just fine. Ravens swarmed a couple of outside restaurants, attacked customers, and broke windows. A few of them were killed running into cars or getting shot by armed citizens. Toxicology tests show nothing unusual, though there’re reports of some sort of toxic chemical being released.” She turned and shrugged. “Oddly, people say it smells just like sulfur.”

“Go figure.” Ginny shook her head. “I wish we knew how many were left out there.”

“Demons?” Eddy sat back and stretched her long legs out over Ginny’s lap. “More than we had in Evergreen, I think.”

“Alton! Look…that’s the bar we were in tonight.” Ginny scooted forward as the newscaster described the fight in one of Sedona’s more popular nightspots.

“The young African-American woman who was attacked left the bar before police arrived. Witnesses didn’t recall if she’d been injured or not, but everyone has mentioned the sulfuric odor.” He raised his head and sniffed the air. “I can still smell it. It’s very faint but it reminds me of the smell of striking matches. Everything appears calm now, but toxicology tests are being run to determine whether some sort of hallucinogenic chemical is responsible for the strange behavior of local animals and now, a visiting tourist. Back to you…”

“Ginny! You were attacked? Are you okay?” Eddy grabbed her hand and gave her a quick once-over.

“I’m fine.” Ginny shrugged and pulled her hand free of Eddy’s grasp. “Really. He caught me in the shoulder, but there wasn’t much power behind his swing. I don’t think the demons had very good control of him.”

Just then Dax wandered out of the bedroom. His hair was mussed and he looked half asleep. “What’s going on?”

Eddy waved at the screen. “Demon attacks made the nightly news and Ginny and Alton were in a barroom brawl. Just the usual.”

“We’re fine, Dax.” Ginny stuck her tongue out at Eddy. “Eddy’s exaggerating.”

Dax sat down on Eddy’s side opposite Alton and gestured at the television where the news had moved on to sports. “They know they’re demons?”

“No, but they’re going to figure out something’s not right before too long.” Eddy grabbed his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, but still not up to full strength.” Dax linked his fingers with hers and turned to Alton. “What did you guys come across in town? Other than a fight in a bar.”

“He really knows how to show a girl a good time.” Ginny elbowed Alton’s thigh.

Alton ignored Ginny. “We came across rats,” he said. “Demons had taken over a bunch of rats and had a woman cornered in an alley. She’d killed two of the rats but the others were moving toward her in formation and a crowd had begun to gather.”

“Alton and I took care of the rest of the rats and demons,” Ginny said, “but the demons that escaped before we got there took over a human.” She focused on Dax. “He was drunk, so his defenses were down, and the demons had probably grabbed the life force when the rats died, but still, there were two demons working together in him. They didn’t seem to have much control, but Alton says it’s a sign of their continuing evolution.”

Dax leaned back in his chair. “That’s not good. A human? If they can control a human, they’ve definitely evolved.”

“The question is,” Eddy asked, “what are they evolving to? Do they have a plan?”

Alton shook his head. “The only one who appears to have a plan so far has been the demon king. Are we still in agreement that he was drawing lesser demons to this dimension for their energy?”

Shrugging, Dax glanced toward Eddy. “He was definitely absorbing their life force during that fight in Evergreen,” he said. He turned back toward Ginny. “If we destroyed an avatar and the demon got free in the form of that black, wraithlike smoke, the demon king would pull the wraith toward him and inhale it.”

“And he’d get bigger and stronger almost immediately,” Eddy added. “That’s when we realized he wasn’t actually gathering a demon army. It was as if he needed the demons stored in this dimension for his personal use. To stay here, they needed an avatar. When he needed their energy, he’d set up a situation where the avatars were broken and the demon’s soul set free, at which point the demon king was able to siphon off their energy. He needed to catch demons in their mist form before they could be drawn back to Abyss.”

“At first, we were actually helping him.” Alton glanced toward Ginny. “We’d destroy an avatar, but sometimes missed the demon. Then we realized they were drawn to him, like metal to a magnet. It was scary to watch. Every time he swallowed down another demon, he got stronger, more lifelike. At first his avatar—the gargoyle—was stone. By the time we fought him on Mount Shasta, he was alive—supple, breathing, and bleeding.”

Dax was shaking his head. “If you can call that acidic muck leaking out of him blood. Pretty nasty stuff. The biggest difference now, though, is that those lesser demons were mindless creatures. Pure energy, definitely evil, but there didn’t appear to be any real cognitive thought involved in their actions. Now we’re seeing intelligence.”

Eddy wrapped her fingers around Dax’s hand and frowned. “Dax, you said that the longer the demon king remains in Earth’s dimension, the more of his intelligence he regains. Could the same thing be happening with the lesser demons? Obviously, if the demon king was originally an intelligent creature from Eden, he’s got more to start with, but what of the lesser demons? What do you know of them? What kind of demon were you?”

Dax stared down, as if he focused on their linked hands. “I probably started out as a lesser demon long ago, but by the time I was cast out, I had become a fairly formidable creature. I know I was intelligent enough to question my existence, but, for whatever reason, I retained my intelligence when I was given this body by the Edenites.”

“But, you had to learn to use it, just as the demons are learning to use their avatars.” Eddy touched the side of his face. “You learned very quickly.”

Dax smiled, turned, and kissed her palm. “If you’ll recall, I had Willow feeding me info the whole time. I had my powers and knowledge stored in the tattoo, and I still had the remnants of memories from the human who first owned this body.” He smiled. A smile that was all for Eddy. “Plus, I had you.”

“That you did.” Eddy curled her fingers against his lips.

Ginny watched the emotion flare in Dax’s eyes, noticed the dreamy look in Eddy’s, and felt a tight clench in her stomach. She wondered what they were remembering, what shared events had drawn them so close so quickly.

They’d known each other less than two weeks, yet they loved as powerfully as if they’d been together forever. Ginny wished she had Eddy’s certainty. Wished she understood her own feelings better.

Dax seemed to catch himself, as if he suddenly realized he and Eddy had an audience. He glanced at her. “Things have changed, though. The demons have changed, and they’re doing it without any help that we know of, unless the demon king is somehow able to affect their behavior.” He turned his attention to Ginny and Alton. “Alton, remember how you described the demon king, as if he looked the way I used to? Eddy and I are wondering if I was targeted, if he…”

Alton glanced at Ginny and they both nodded. “Great minds think alike,” she said. “Alton and I were wondering the same thing, if maybe the fact he’s got your old body makes you more susceptible to his demon strength.”

“Exactly, and it’s got me worried.” Eddy leaned against Dax’s shoulder. “I want to get this guy back to Evergreen for at least a couple of nights, away from that soul-sucking bastard. Dax needs to recuperate before we face him again. He’s tried his demon powers, but he’s definitely not at full strength.”

Dax’s expression was almost sheepish. “I know I’m not carrying my weight, but Eddy reminded me I haven’t had this human body very long—and I was dead just a few days ago.”

Eddy’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I don’t ever want to go through that again. You’re not a cat. I don’t think you get nine lives.”

“She’s right.” Alton nodded and reached for Ginny’s hand. His long fingers wrapped around hers and he squeezed. “It looks like we’ll be fighting demons for a while. We’ll need you at full strength.”

He dropped her hand and stood up, as if he had too much energy to sit in one spot any longer. “Look…Ginny and I were planning to check the vortex at Red Rock Crossing tomorrow, the one near Cathedral Rock. There might be a portal there that will get you to Mount Shasta, and if there’s one to Abyss, I want to close it. Tomorrow morning okay with you?”

Dax gazed at Eddy for a long moment. Ginny wondered if they communicated silently. When Eddy nodded and stood up, tugging Dax with her, Ginny was certain of it.

“Works for us. Get us up early.” Eddy wrapped both arms around Dax’s waist. “I hate to leave you guys here on your own, but he needs to stay away from that damned demon. Just long enough to get his strength back.”

“No problem.” Alton turned away and stared out the window toward the dark desert.

Ginny watched Dax and Eddy leave. When the door to their room closed, she turned to Alton and caught him watching her. Irritation rolled off of him in waves, and he was frowning. She raised her chin, folded her arms across her chest, and stared right back at him. “What’s wrong?”

He let out a frustrated gust of air and glared at her. “Everything’s fine. Just perfect. You’re going back to that important job of yours while I hang around and fight a bunch of fucking demons by myself. Other than that, I’d say it’s all good.”

A bolt of panic flashed along Ginny’s spine. “Taron’s coming Friday. He’s got a crystal sword, right? Just tell him you need his help. He’ll stay.”

“Not quite.” Alton shook his head. “Taron’s got crystal but it’s not sentient. Besides, we need his voice, not his sword. He’s the only link we’ve got between us and the council and we need him there. Communication, Ginny. You know that—it was your idea. It’s the only reason he’s coming, to fill us in on what’s happening in Lemuria. He can’t stay.”

It felt like the room was closing in on her and it was hard to breathe. Her heart pounded unsteadily in her chest and her damned hands wouldn’t stop shaking. “I have to go, Alton. I don’t want to lose my job. I don’t…” She stood up, clutched at the scabbard with DarkFire, and hugged it against her chest, against her pounding heart.

There was no glow at all from the dark crystal.

“So you’ve said.” Alton grabbed his scabbard and his voice had gone cold and flat. He stared down that long patrician nose of his like she was nothing but scum on the sole of his boots.

“Think about this, Ginny, when you worry about your damned job—I gave up my home, my family, my entire world to join this fight. And no, I’m not complaining, but I sure hope your dispatching job’s worth it.”

She cringed beneath the lash of his gaze, the condemnation in his voice. “You chose this fight, Alton…I didn’t. I…” She swallowed back the lump in her throat. How could she defend an indefensible position? “Where are you going? Aren’t you coming to bed?” Damn. She hated sounding so needy, but she was scared and pissed off and he didn’t seem to understand what was going on in her head at all. And she didn’t want to be alone. Not tonight. Not after all the changes in her life—changes she had no control over, changes that made her feel like a volcano ready to blow its top.

Alton shook his head. Obviously he didn’t want anything to do with the original bitch on wheels. “Later,” he said. He had his hand on the door like he was ready to bolt. “I need some air.” He stepped out through the sliding glass door and quickly shut it behind him.

Ginny stared at her reflection in the glass. Alton’s cold rejection left her feeling nauseous and light-headed. She’d been so sure he wanted her with him tonight. So positive while they were driving home that he was thinking of sex, of making love.

At least, that’s what she’d been thinking of, when she wasn’t worrying about Dax, or about keeping her mental shields up. She’d imagined what it would feel like to crawl into that big bed with Alton and just do the deed until they both quit worrying about demons and her job and what exactly was going on between the two of them. Quit worrying and fall asleep.

Only it looked like she’d been alone thinking along those lines. Obviously their minds weren’t nearly as synchronized as she’d thought. Ginny stared at her reflection against the dark glass a moment longer. Then she picked up her scabbard and her silent sword and went into the bedroom by herself.

 

Alton sat in the darkness on the back deck, cocooned by the quiet night sounds of the desert. An owl hooted nearby. In the distance, a coyote howled. Crickets chirped from their hideouts beneath the deck. Bats squeaked overhead as they hunted on the still night air. All normal nighttime noises.

Not a single banshee scream among them.

Slowly he slipped HellFire out of the scabbard, laid the sword across his lap, and stared at the glowing crystal blade. He was filled with questions, but Taron wasn’t here. Taron, who’d been his anchor in so many ways for so many, many years.

Taron. Alton chuckled. He could almost hear his buddy telling him to pay attention. To be aware of the world around him, or in Taron’s phrasing, to get his head out of his ass. So pragmatic and focused—so aware. Taron was the one who always had the answers. The one Alton counted on.

He’d thought he could count on Ginny the same way, but now he had his doubts. He didn’t understand her well enough. Was she too complex, or was he just stupid?

He ran his fingers over the shimmering crystal. HellFire had become his trusted companion. He wondered…could the sentience within the sword help?

Ginny hadn’t hesitated to ask DarkFire, and DarkFire had answered. Alton swallowed back his fears. A man shouldn’t be afraid of the weapon he carried, but Alton had feared this sword for most of his life. It had been the constant reminder of his failure as a man, as a warrior.

And then, when it finally chose to speak to him, it had generally been insulting. Probably served him right, that he carried a sword that still didn’t respect him. He was a man without honor. Now, a man without even a family name.

As if Taron whispered in his ear, prodding him to take a leap of faith, Alton made his decision. “HellFire? Are you awake?”

The soft chuckle surprised him. “I am always awake. What troubles you?”

Now that was the question. Alton wasn’t certain he wanted the answers for what truly troubled him. His feelings for Ginny felt like an open wound, too tender to probe. Instead, he asked, “Who were you?” He ran his fingertips along the blade. “DarkFire was a warrior named Daria. Who were you before you became spirit? What is your story?”

The blade pulsed dark blue, then light, then dark again. Alton wondered if he’d somehow insulted HellFire’s spirit. It wasn’t like he had a set of rules to follow. How to talk to one’s sword without screwing up? He wished.

He could have sworn HellFire sighed.

“I was called Justice. Like you, I was the spoiled son of one of Lemuria’s leaders. I was a sycophant, foolishly proud of my position as a parasite upon the world as a whole. I existed with the same sense of entitlement you had for so long. I believed Lemuria owed me a living. I was young and handsome, and I enjoyed every unearned moment. Until the demons came.”

Frowning, Alton stared at the blade. He hadn’t expected an answer like that, though in retrospect, he knew he deserved it. Knew HellFire described him perfectly. “Am I still that way? A parasite? The spoiled son with a sense of entitlement?” Alton thought of the person he’d been when he first left Lemuria. Hadn’t he changed even a little?

“I would not speak to you if you’d not moved past your childish ways.”

Childish? A man grown, one who’d lived thousands of years? He’d laugh, except it was too true to be funny. He sighed, accepting. “Why did it take me so long, HellFire? What was I lacking? I left everything I knew to fight demons, yet you refused to speak. What was I doing wrong?”

“The same things I once did. Your motives were not pure, though another sword might have recognized your growth sooner than I did. Since I saw myself in your actions, I knew you could be so much more if properly challenged.

“You left Lemuria because you were bored. The chance to fight demons was a diversion for you. The excitement of going into battle was all about you—your needs, your wants. You could have stopped the demon gargoyle on many occasions, but you were unwilling to risk your safety. Instead, you put Dax and Eddy at risk by your cowardice.”

HellFire certainly wasn’t mincing words. Alton felt the heat in his face and knew his humiliation must be showing. The sword was right. He’d been afraid each time they fought the demon, and he’d pulled back. He’d been terrified during that last big battle on Mount Shasta. As difficult as it was to say the words, he admitted his fears to HellFire.

“Ah, but in that battle, even though you were afraid, you didn’t falter. You attacked.”

Alton snorted. “A lot of good it did. The damned gargoyle just about crushed me. I’m surprised it didn’t kill me.”

“Yet knowing you might die, you attacked to save Eddy and her father. To help Dax. You failed, but you were willing to give your life for your friends. Do you recall your thoughts at that moment, Alton? It wasn’t all about you. It was about keeping others safe. You finally showed me that you have what it takes to carry crystal.”

Alton stared at the glowing blade for a long time. The sounds of the night ebbed and flowed about him and he thought of the battle he’d fought, how frightened he’d been.

How angry he’d been, to think they might somehow lose, that demonkind might actually overrun an innocent world. Nothing else had mattered then. Not his life, not how terrified he was or the chance he probably wouldn’t survive. He hadn’t felt particularly brave when he’d attacked the gargoyle. No, he’d been desperately afraid, not only for himself, but for his friends. He’d been willing to do anything to save his friends and his people.

Anything, including risking his life.

But he’d failed and the gargoyle had completely overwhelmed him. He’d been unconscious when Eddy had grabbed his silent crystal sword and decapitated the gargoyle. She’d faced death to save her father, to avenge Dax’s death, and she’d succeeded. No wonder her sword had spoken to her from the beginning.

And Dax! He’d actually died—horribly, painfully. He’d thrown himself on the gargoyle, knowing he couldn’t possibly prevail. He hadn’t, and the gargoyle had killed him.

Thank the gods Dax had been given another chance.

Alton wondered if Dax remembered those last moments when the demon had broken his body—snapped his spine as if it were nothing more than a twig. Ed had given Alton the gruesome details later, when they’d had time to talk about those last frantic, frightening moments. Alton had missed the worst and the best of it—Dax’s death, Eddy’s selfless bravery.

He’d been unconscious. Not a very brave participant in that one big battle, but it had changed him forever. He’d come away from it believing in himself for the first time in his very long life. Believing in his value as a Lemurian, as a man.

It had given him the courage to face his father, to stand up to the Council of Nine. He hadn’t even faltered when his father had publicly disowned him. He never would have been brave enough before that battle.

That was the first time he’d truly been tested—and he’d passed. There’d never been a reason to doubt Dax’s bravery. Knowing he had only one week to live, Dax had sacrificed everything for the cause. In that respect, Alton’s first opinion of his friend had been right—Dax had more honor and integrity than any man he’d ever known.

He ran his fingers along the sharp edge of the crystal blade. “HellFire? You said you were like me, a spoiled young man with a sense of entitlement. What changed you? What was it that turned you from that worthless parasite into a warrior brave enough to be reborn in a crystal sword?”

“My death changed me.” The light of the sword dimmed. “I fought a battle we had no hope of winning, but my stand allowed some of our citizens to escape to safety. I didn’t intend to die that day, but that was my path.”

“You sacrificed yourself so that others might live.” Alton felt the burn of tears in his eyes. “A truly brave act.”

Again he heard the soft chuckle. “It was both a brave and foolish act. I was terrified. My actions were those of a coward with no other choice than to act bravely. If I’d fought a smarter fight, I could have survived and gone on to fight another day. As it was, I died less than a week before the demons were finally vanquished. All these thousands of years I’ve waited for my rebirth. It’s about time you got it right.”

This time it was Alton who laughed. “I never claimed to be the sharpest sword in the scabbard.”

“No, Alton. That is my job. Your job is to help build a stronger force to take up the battle against demonkind once again. There are so few of you. Go to Ginny. You must convince her to stay. Without her courage and strength, without DarkFire, our chances of success against the demon invasion are slim. Their leader is a new malevolence, something we’ve not seen before. Something I still don’t truly understand. It will take a powerful force to defeat him. Without DarkFire’s unique talents, without Ginny…”

Alton sighed. “But how? Ginny is determined to follow a path of her own choosing. How can I hope to change her mind?”

HellFire shimmered brightly. “You must give her a reason to stay that is within her grasp. The concept of saving many worlds against demonkind is too much for any mind to comprehend, but there are other reasons for her to stay, for her to risk everything. Think of how you have focused yourself in this fight. Think of the adjustments you’ve made in your own goals. Then ask yourself—do you love Virginia Jones?”

The blade went dark and silence closed in around Alton.

Alton stared at the sword. What did loving Ginny have to do with anything? Nine hells. He had no idea if he loved her or not. How could he know if those feelings tearing him up inside were really love? Love shouldn’t hurt this much.

Except he knew, in the deepest, most private part of his soul, that HellFire had been right about everything else. Alton’s motives had been entirely selfish when he first left Lemuria. Thinking back to his feelings at the time, he’d seen helping Dax and Eddy escape from the Lemurian prison as a grand gesture on his part, a chance to find some excitement to liven up his dull life.

So why had HellFire asked him if he loved Ginny? What an odd question. Or was it? Hadn’t he realized from the first time he saw Ginny that she was the one he was fighting for? Not for Lemuria, not for Earth or the people of Atlantis and Eden. No. It was Ginny who mattered. Ginny’s safety, her future.

By focusing on Ginny, he’d been able to face a battle beyond anything he’d ever imagined possible. He’d discovered strengths he hadn’t realized he possessed.

What if he were to put the battle against demonkind into words that made more sense to Ginny? Show her something to focus on besides worlds she barely believed in, people she didn’t know. If she realized how Alton felt about her, how much she meant to him…He shook his head. First he needed to get his own thoughts in order before he tried organizing anyone else’s.

Still, he had to admit that maybe HellFire hadn’t been so far off the mark after all.

It came to him, then, what had been different about the conversation he’d just had with his crystal sword. No snark. None at all. HellFire had spoken sincerely, as if they were comrades of long standing. As if Alton were an equal.

Justice. His name had been Justice, and he’d been young once, and spoiled. And then he’d died, though he’d obviously redeemed himself with his death. Alton stroked the silent blade with his fingertips, imagining the young man HellFire had once been. Then he picked up his sword and carefully slipped it into the scabbard.

An errant thought filtered into his mind. Had Justice ever been in love?

The blade remained dark.

“Well, Justice. It appears it’s up to me to convince Ginny to stay and fight. Is loving her the key? Is it really something so simple?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “Like love is simple? Nine hells. If I screw up, lose track, and forget, please remind me it’s about the fight and it’s about Ginny. About winning against demonkind for the good of all. That it’s not about me.”

The blade flashed a quick spark of blue, almost as if HellFire winked at him.

Alton stared at the scabbard. “Though it would be nice if all this could happen without me having to die first, don’t you think? I’d like to hang around and reap the rewards of victory, if there actually is such a thing against demonkind.”

There was no response from the sword.

Alton stared at the tooled-leather scabbard and thought about their strange conversation. Then, with one last look across the dark and silent desert, he went inside.

 

Alton paused in the bathroom doorway after his shower. Ginny slept soundly, but she’d chosen the bed he’d slept alone in the night before. Her arms were tightly wrapped around his pillow, her face buried in its soft depths.

He wished he understood women better, but he hoped it was a positive sign.

Standing here, warm and relaxed from the shower, Alton opened his mind to Ginny’s and gently entered without leaving any hint of his presence. He found her sleeping thoughts unguarded, her dreams open and filled with questions.

He folded his arms across his chest, leaned against the doorjamb, and wandered through her most private images and ideas without any sense of trespass whatsoever. He’d gained a pretty strong feeling of entitlement while he’d stood there beneath the biting spray, his body aching with need for the darkly beautiful woman sleeping so soundly just beyond the bathroom door.

Entitled, because he’d finally admitted that she’d stolen his heart. He wasn’t about to let her get away with it—not without giving her own to him in return.

He wanted her smile—the one she shared with him and no one else. He wanted her touch, wanted the warmth of her long, lean body close to his. He wanted the joy of her laughter.

But even more, he wanted Ginny’s trust.

It was more than a feeling—instead, it was a powerful sense of the inevitable that Ginny was meant for him, just as he was meant for her.

It seemed counter to the lesson he felt HellFire’d been trying to give him, but at the same time, Alton knew these potent feelings went deeper than merely satisfying his own desires. He wanted to satisfy Ginny’s. He wanted her to stay, not only to fight demonkind, but because she’d discovered exactly what she needed to fill all those empty spaces in her heart, to make her life complete.

Somehow he had to convince her he was the one. That only he could fill her emptiness, just as she filled his.

It wasn’t easy to admit he’d never be whole without Ginny in his life. HellFire had forced the issue, but it was something Alton had sensed from the very beginning, from the moment he’d seen that beautiful woman with the tiger’s eyes fighting off a demon-possessed concrete bear with nothing more than a scrap of wood. He’d known even then she was special.

Of course, then his concerns were a little bit different. He was still hung up on his rank in Lemurian society and the fact he was immortal while Ginny wasn’t.

All that had changed pretty dramatically when he’d been disowned the same day they’d discovered Ginny was a descendant of Lemurian royalty. Which meant that all the issues keeping them apart weren’t issues anymore. So why wasn’t he any happier about it?

For one thing, that sleeping beauty in his bed obviously didn’t feel the same way about him as he felt about her, not if she was so willing to take her beautiful, shapely butt back to work this weekend. Unfortunately, he didn’t think there was much he could do to change the way he felt, and he had no idea how to convince Ginny.

What a mess. He’d never imagined love could be so confusing, if that’s what this was really all about. Was this love? This sense that nothing in his life would ever be right again if Ginny wasn’t a part of it? The powerful pressure that squeezed his heart and forced the air from his lungs when he thought of her returning to Evergreen without him, when he imagined going on in this battle without Ginny at his side?

He was incapable of imagining life without her beside him. Not behind him, as a proper Lemurian mate would be, but next to him, shoulder to shoulder, whether it be fighting demons or, if they were ever so blessed, raising a child. When he thought of his future, he thought of it with Ginny.

She was his future. She was also very much his present.

What else could he call it, if not love? What did Ginny call it? She was every bit as confused as he was. He confirmed that little tidbit of information even now, tiptoeing through her sleep-bemused thoughts.

Then he found something that stopped him cold.

It wasn’t the job calling her back to Evergreen—it was her fear of a future she didn’t understand. Her fear of committing herself to a man who’d not promised her anything beyond the next fight. No wonder she clung to the familiar security of her work. He’d offered her nothing.

Nothing at all.

Of course, what did he have to offer a woman like Ginny? His heart? She already had it, even though he’d not said the words. He’d hardly admitted them to himself. She was, after all, Lemurian royalty and he was nothing more than the exiled son of a pompous jackass.

Have you already forgotten our conversation, Alton? It’s not all about you….

He almost laughed out loud. Generally HellFire waited to be addressed before making comments, but in this case, the warning was welcome, and right on the mark.

It wasn’t about him. Right now it was all about Ginny. It was about her needs, her desires, and her fears.

He’d been brave enough to face a demon-possessed gargoyle. Was he brave enough to accept that this horrible, wonderful, terrifying feeling he had was love, and then face the woman he loved? Brave enough to lay his heart out for her to mangle and stomp on as she saw fit?

Nine hells, he hoped so.

He stepped back into the bathroom and hung the wet towel over the shower rod. Then, naked, aroused, and still damp from his shower, he quietly walked across the room and crawled into bed beside Ginny.

She turned to him and rooted against his chest as if she wanted to bury herself inside him. Alton wrapped her slim body in his arms and drew her close. He tucked her head beneath his chin and rubbed his cheek against her springy curls. Her scent was all warm woman and invitation, but she slept so soundly he didn’t want to disturb her.

Nine hells…he was disturbed enough, all by himself. How does a man with nothing tell a woman who has everything—who is everything—that he loves her? How does he convince her that she needs him every bit as much as he needs her?

They’d been together such a short time. How could he possibly trust desires he didn’t really understand? He’d never felt this way about any woman before. He’d never known the same sense of expectation—of desire or excitement—in his entire life. It wasn’t all about sex, though he had to admit that the thought of burying himself in her hot, wet sheath had him so hard he ached. No, it was something else altogether, a feeling that the disquiet he’d lived with for most of his life had finally found the calm he’d not even known to search for.

The feeling of having traveled for countless miles before finally stumbling upon the perfect oasis, a flowing spring that offered salvation to his weary soul and brilliant color to a life lived in nothing more than shades of gray. It was such a simple thing, really, now that he admitted it. Now that he allowed himself to accept it.

He loved Ginny. She gave him hope. She was hope, and he’d felt hopeless for so very long.

Never again.

With that promise uppermost in his mind, Alton closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.