Heart of Fire (Blood of Zeus #2) - Meredith Wild Page 0,76

in the sun instead of discussing demons by firelight. “I thought his name sounded familiar. It’s a nickname for the Egyptian demon Apep. He’s Ra’s nemesis.”

I nod, acknowledging the myth that happens to be the truth—and wondering, for perhaps the hundredth time, why Maximus accepts these crazy truths so easily. Often better than me. “He switches out the name every hundred or so years so he doesn’t raise any alarm bells in the mortal world.”

Maximus is thoughtful for a moment. “According to ancient texts, the only advantage he had over Ra was his ability to hide in the shadows.”

“The shadows?” I lean in, now fascinated with what he’s saying. Mostly because he’s saying it, but it’s because his account makes sense. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Rerek out in broad daylight. “You mean coffins and caves? Like a vampire?”

“Caves, yes. Dark mountain passes, yes. But coffins?” The edges of his lips quirk. “I think you’ve been watching too many horror movies.”

Really? Thank goodness you didn’t know to stop and admire the murderers’ teeth in the entrance fountain.

I keep that to myself, at least for now. Instead, I tease back and wriggle around to secure a closer snuggle. “Hmm, well… Only after I’ve done all my homework.”

A rough breath leaves him. “Ahhh. Such a good student.” He runs his hand down my spine. “You must work very hard.”

“Have to,” I say, inching my mouth toward the alluring angle of his jaw, tickling my nose in his beard before adding, “I’ve got this one professor… He takes no prisoners.”

His hard swallow doesn’t escape my attention. “Sounds like a real hard-ass,” he mutters. “No prisoners at all?”

“None that have lived to tell the tale.” I cock my head up enough to show off my mischievous grin. “You either prove your worth or walk his plank.”

Once more, his generous lips twist upward. I gaze in delight at what that does to his deep dimples before fanning all the way up to his alluring blues. Within a few seconds, they’re as dark as the sky above, reflecting the fire’s flying sparks as his version of shooting stars.

What he says next comes through a voice I’ve never heard from him before. A mix of murmur and whisper that covers me in shivers and heat at the same time…

“But what if he falls in love with one of his prisoners?”

Chapter Twenty-One

Maximus

I keep telling myself her silence might be a good thing. That, or I’ve truly gotten carried away with the moonlight and the fire and just fed her some line.

No. I’ve gotten carried away with her.

Everything about her. Everything about how I feel when I’m with her. Free and brave. Open and real, like the confession that’s just spilled from my soul by way of my lips.

But nobody promised me the truth wouldn’t be terrifying. Because right now, it is. Especially because she’s still saying nothing.

The agony doesn’t compare to the few seconds I wait to kiss her, ordering my mind to memorize every square inch of her fire-lit beauty. The silken heart of her face, almost sizzling with visual evidence of our connection. The honeyed warmth of her eyes, glowing with unabashed adoration. Damn it, even the delicate sweep of her nose, leading my gaze down to the sweet pillows of her lips.

My God. Her lips.

I want to lie here for hours, lost in fascination with them alone—but they’re moving in strange ways, as if she’s attempting a smile, until she catches herself by biting them with insecure little nips. Then a stuttering sigh. Then the most perfect words…

“What if the prisoner falls in love with him too?”

I force myself to breathe. Then rake my free hand up her spine until I’m bracing the back of her head. Her hair is a handful of silken luxury, surrounding my fingers as if it were spun explicitly for that purpose. Right now, that’s exactly what I choose to believe—the same way her mouth fits so perfectly against mine.

Because she is perfection.

This is perfection.

The affirmation becomes a pulsing, pressing mantra in my senses. Unrelenting. Inescapable. And so damn right.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

The beat pushes harder. Stronger. I succumb to it, sliding my tongue between her plush, pliant lips. She accepts me with a ready sigh, gripping a hand into my hair too. When she twists and pulls harder, I willingly let her lead. I’m on my back on the blanket, with the most breathtaking beauty in any realm atop me. She’s bathed in shades of orange and red and