Chapter 39

Lauren froze as the bushes crashed, feeling the bite of the blade at her neck. Henry had moved more quickly than she thought he could. He’d palmed the knife easily after a whir of static had buzzed between them, apparently from some sort of headset she hadn’t noticed in his ear. A second later, his hand was around her throat, gripping her hard enough to bruise. That hand had been replaced with the flat of a thick blade, which now cut into her with cold threat. A thin stream of blood trickled down her neck.

She hated herself for trembling, for the rush of adrenaline and fear that jolted through her system, sending her up on her toes. She wasn’t going to make a run for it, and she wasn’t going to fight. Not here. Not like this. Not with Dimitri so close. She’d seen what Henry could do to people from afar. She had no idea what he was capable of up close.

Henry, in contrast, seemed relaxed, at ease. Uncaring or unmoved she bled. She didn’t say a word, and when the brush moved again and Dimitri stepped out with another man beside him, gun to his temple, she schooled her response to one of average, run of the mill terror. Never mind that when she saw him, she wanted to press against the knife and wound herself more, if only to distract Henry.

“Lose the knife,” Dimitri said gruffly.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands,” Henry said, and then Lauren saw something more, the blood blooming on Dimitri’s shoulder from what looked like a heavily bleeding gash. Had he been shot? Wouldn’t she have heard that? No—no. His clothes were rent with a thick slash. That wound had been made by a knife. He was a demigod, but he could be hurt. He could be killed. She stared in horror, and Henry leaned down to nuzzle her ear.

“There, there, darling. I know this must be alarming. But you must understand the power you have over men. This might make you understand why it is so important that we marry now, before someone like this begins to think he has a chance with you.”

“He never—” Lauren said hotly, but Henry only laughed.

“Oh, believe me, I know, my Echidna. You wouldn’t waste your time or your body on some bootlicking bodyguard stinking of fish and filth. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t entertain aspirations. And it’s that insult that I cannot abide. Among so many other things.”

“He didn’t insult me, Henry.” Lauren’s voice was clear and high, and she could only hope it sounded imperious, but reasonable. The name Henry had called her was his pet joke—emphasis on pet. She’d looked that up, too, years ago—and then only the barest minimum. The goddess wasn’t some ethereal beauty, but a half-woman, half-snake monster stuck in some horrible cave. She hadn’t cared enough to raise a fuss over it, but it seemed especially abhorrent for him to call her that there, now, when she could barely focus on anything but Dimitri’s shoulder. “He barely spoke to me. He was here to protect me and make sure I didn’t go anywhere else. That’s all.”

“Is that all, Dimitri?” Henry’s words were a taunt. “Then you wouldn’t mind this, I suppose.” Lauren felt Henry’s hands shift, felt him grip the thin cloth of her sundress. Before she could draw another breath, Henry ripped it ruthlessly down and away, exposing her bra and the curve of her breast.

“Henry!” she protested with a gasp.

But Henry wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Dimitri, who stared at them from across the clearing with murder in his eyes. Beside him, Henry’s bodyguard never wavered from his ready position, the gun point-blank at Dimitri’s head.

“That’s right, isn’t it,” Henry said, and she tensed as his hand moved to palm the weight of her breast in his hand, rubbing it coarsely. “You can see, can’t you darling? See the fury and possession in his gaze? He’s a disgusting, rutting bull. If I hadn’t come today, God only knows what he would have done to you.”

“Let go of her,” Dimitri growled. He sounded like he was going to rip Henry limb from limb. Henry clearly noticed it too.

“Insufferable, isn’t it?” he murmured. “He has to go.”

“What?” Lauren did pull away from Henry now. “Are you insane? You can’t kill him. You don’t need to kill anyone. I’m going with you, Henry, and the bodyguard is going home. Home,” she said more clearly when Henry didn’t move and Dimitri didn’t either. She tried again. “I’m not going to start our married life with the blood of an innocent man on my hands. Let him go now, and let’s get out of here.”

Henry looked at her a long minute. “You know I’d do anything for you, darling,” he said, sighing heavily. “Why don’t you go and say good-bye to him personally? I know he’ll appreciate that. Here.” He tucked her dress up beneath her strap, rendering her slightly more presentable. “That should help.”

“I don’t want to say good-bye to him.” The quick jerk of Henry’s gaze to her eyes sent a surge of satisfaction rushing through Lauren. Insufferable prick. He’d been testing her, wanting to watch her with Dimitri. It wasn’t a bad move. The bloodstain was only gathering in intensity at Dimitri’s shoulder. If he didn’t get out of there soon and back to the rover, would he have the strength to get to a hospital? Or whatever passed for a hospital on this island? She straightened under Henry’s shrewd gaze. “I want to leave.”

Henry’s smile was affectionate again, truly affectionate. Then he pulled her roughly into his body, his hand around her neck, smearing the blood from where he’d sliced her neck. She winced but didn’t stop him from pressing against her, because if that got them out of there more quickly, she was all for it.

Henry laughed against her, the sound low and unhinged.

“I want to make love to you,” he all but groaned into her ear. “Here, now. With that beast watching.”

“What? No!” Lauren went rigid as Henry stepped away from her. He took off his jacket and tossed it over one of the hanging pieces of plane sculpture, and shot out his cuffs. That was when she saw the gun stuck into his waistband.

“Henry, you can’t be serious,” she said, not needing to fake her desperation. “I’m not going to make love to you here in front of strangers. It will be our first time! Surely we can come up with something more romantic.”

“You’re my wife, or you will be. You need to start acting like it.”

Lauren couldn’t help it—she curled her lip. Henry laughed at her expression. “You’ll learn soon enough. I think your first lesson should be now.”

“No.” As Henry pulled the gun out of his waistband, Lauren rushed forward, pushing his arm to the side. He smacked her, hard, the force of the blow cracking against her cheek, and she faltered. Then an unearthly roar of rage erupted from the far edge of the garden.

“Lauren!”