Damian's Assassin - Page 113/116

She shivered and shrugged the sense away. He was alive, after all, and there was some good to him for wanting to make things right. She'd lost her father and her brother. She'd hoped not to lose the man she loved as well.

"Peanut butter," Darian hissed.

She turned in time to see Dusty glare hard at the Grey God, who took the hint and left. Dusty was bloodied and drenched, his clothing torn from his battle with Talon. He remained every bit the noble Greek prince with his commanding blue gaze and chiseled features.

"Shouldn't you be saving people in Ohio or something?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"I am where I belong," he said with his unflappable confidence.

Any resistance she might have mustered melted at his words. She flung herself into his arms, gratified when he squeezed her hard.

"I owe you one for bringing me back from the dead," he whispered into her hair.

"Yes, you do!" she replied in a small voice.

"I'm sorry I couldn't spare you or Jonny from all this shit, Bianca." His words made her heart somersault. "Rule number five: you are mine for all eternity."

"You're the most unromantic man I've ever known," she said, a laugh bubbling free. "I'll agree, if I won't be second rung to your duty or other women."

"Where did those come from?" he asked.

"I've had bad luck with men."

"Gods. No, woman, you won't be second rung."

"Okay, then, I have some rules for you," she continued. He eyed her. "Rule one: I get to decorate your apartment next time. Rule two: Sunny is coming with us. Rule three: you will eat three square meals a day and sleep every night with me, because you couldn't take care of yourself if you tried. Rule four: I want to try to help turn vamps into humans again."

He snorted.

"Rule five: Jonny is still my brother. Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of our father's death, and we made a pact a few months ago to go there every year at the same time. I want to go every year, peacefully, without any gunfights or whatever."

She stopped and waited.

"Yes to the first four," he said. "The last will require some discussion with Damian. He'll have to talk temporary truces with the Black God."

She looked up at him, surprised at his easy agreement.

"Now, you wanna get outta these wet clothes or not?" he asked.

She smiled in response, thrilled.

*****

Damian, the White God, hauled himself out of the ocean onto the beach. He'd managed to miss the hurricane, though the waters were still rough and the waves high. He flung water from himself, furious to have his Travel ended prematurely. At least he'd made it near shore after being stranded in Iceland for the night to regain his power. He glared at the ocean and strode up the beach littered with wood, boats, and cars, to the highway.