She jerked on the handcuff wrapped around her wrist, panic building in her chest. He’d not only almost gotten her killed in those caves, he was about to get her killed now. “Let me go!”
He popped the driver-side door, stepped out of the old truck with his weapon. “I’ll be right back.”
No. No! “Gryphon!”
He ignored her scream, slammed the door, and stepped in front of the truck, its headlights hitting his back to highlight the muscles in his shoulders and torso and down through his butt and thighs.
Through the window she heard the daemon in the middle—the one she could no longer see—sniff and growl, “Argonaut.”
“Yes, I am,” Gryphon said in a clear voice. “And I’m wondering which one of you wants to die first.”
As a unit, all three daemons moved forward.
Oh, gods. Oh, gods, this was not about to happen.
Maelea cranked on the handcuffs, gritted her teeth, and tried to pry her hand loose, but the cuffs were too tight, and all she was doing was bruising her hand and tearing up her skin. Damn Gryphon for handcuffing her to this stupid truck. Damn him for slipping the key in his pocket. If he got killed out there, she’d never get to the key before those monsters devoured her.
Panic consumed her as the first daemon arced out with his blade and Gryphon’s sword clanked against metal. The floor of the truck vibrated. She watched in horror as Gryphon shifted, turned, kicked a second daemon in the stomach, sending that one sailing backward. He sliced the third across the shoulder. Blood sprayed over Gryphon and the ground. Gryphon swiveled, ducked, barely missing a blade to the chest, then sliced out and around again and again, forcing the monsters back from the truck, pushing them deeper into the shadows and away from her.
He was mesmerizing. The panic slowly dissipated and the vibrating stopped until a strange calm came over her. Even though she wanted nothing more than to run, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Memories of what she’d heard in the colony flashed in her mind, the way he’d gone berserk and annihilated those daemons in that village. How he’d turned on his own kin. But this didn’t look like a warrior who was losing control. If anything, he was the perfect combination of danger and strength…and very clear, very focused, intent.
Minutes later it was over. Three dead daemons lay in the middle of the road, steam rising from their bloodied bodies. The truck’s headlights illuminated Gryphon’s heaving chest as he stood over them, his skin covered in streaks of red and other things Maelea didn’t want to acknowledge. She watched as he reached down and lifted the head of the closest daemon by the scalp, but when he used his blade to decapitate the beast, bile rose in Maelea’s stomach and she quickly looked away.
Adrenaline coursed through her system. She swallowed hard, tried to ignore the scraping sounds coming from the road. A mixture of relief and dread whipped through her as she waited…for what, she wasn’t sure. Would he turn on her now? Even though he seemed calm, that was no guarantee she wasn’t next.
Her anxiety peaked as footsteps echoed close. She finally looked up. The monsters’ bodies were gone. The headlights now glowed bright against nothing but empty, bloody pavement. The door to her left creaked open, and she looked in that direction, pulling on the cuff around her wrist, wishing she had some kind of weapon to defend herself.
Gryphon tossed his blade behind the seat, then climbed into the vehicle, barely sparing her a glance. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
The door slammed, and he shifted into drive. As they moved forward, leaving the sights and sounds and smells of the battle behind them, Maelea couldn’t help but stare at the man beside her who suddenly looked less like a maniac and more like the warrior he’d once been.
That last thought stayed fresh and foremost in Maelea’s mind as she settled back against the seat, careful not to say anything, thankful she wasn’t close enough to touch him, because this new Gryphon was even more enticing than the last. Attractive to her in ways that had nothing to do with the darkness inside him. To keep from focusing on that fact, she tried to understand what he could possibly want from her. Now that he was free of the colony, had weapons and cash and supplies he’d need for wherever he planned to go next, why would he possibly want to keep her around?
You’re female. Why do you think he wants to keep you around?
Her gaze strayed in his direction. With both hands gripping the wheel, he remained focused ahead, but the dashboard’s lights illuminated a muscle twitching in his strong jaw, his thick arms, his broad, warrior chest. Heat burst in her stomach as she remembered that body pressed against hers in the tunnels. And she heard his voice on that cliff when he’d held her tightly and announced he wasn’t letting her go after all.
I need you.