Pure Requiem - Aja James Page 0,65

one hand and a long dagger in the other rather uselessly.

The arrival of the Chosen has evened the odds, pushing Medusa’s last line of defense back toward the mouth of the creek. The Pure and Dark Ones are gaining ground, making their way to Avalanche Lake, ever closer to Medusa’s lair.

That’s when I see Dalair efficiently extricate himself from the nexus of battle, leaving Valerius, Cloud, Maximus and Ariel busy with a dozen turned warriors in his wake.

He is coming for Tal.

He must be. He is trying to accomplish his mission—to take the “prize” back to Medusa alive, without having her personally engage.

But that’s not what we want. Oh no, the whole plan is for her to personally engage. How else would the Pure Ones get a shot at her?

Not that I expect anyone will be able to take her down, mind you. I haven’t seen her monster form first-hand, but my bet is on the monster. I mean, it would be totally anticlimactic if she wasn’t all that, don’t you think?

Nevertheless, call it morbid curiosity, call it capriciousness—I want to see it.

I want the Pure and Dark Ones to have a shot at her. If nothing else, it will be a glorious show!

So, that’s why I decide to interject myself (really, that’s the only reason) into the dynamics that are unfolding.

I see Dalair starting to edge down the ravine toward Tal, who continues to defend his position below. I transform myself into a form I know the Paladin will be distracted by, no matter who’s in possession of his mind and soul. His body is still his body, after all. He cannot deny the instincts of a fated, mated male.

His eyes focus on me immediately, his body tensing taut.

Bingo.

I smile a little at him (an attempt at come hither, but I’ve been out of practice for many months with this whole seduction thing, so it might have been more of a grimace, the sort that graces one’s face when surreptitiously passing gas).

It works anyway, hallelujah.

He stalks toward me, barely noticing anyone and anything else around him, pushing one of his own soldiers out of his way, down the ravine, when the male accidentally gets too close.

A thrilled little shiver shimmies down my spine.

Dalair is magnificent when his attention is so intensely focused on you, zombie apocalypse type of attention though it might be. I now know exactly why Sophia is so addicted to him (smaller dick notwithstanding).

I walk slowly into the forest, angling a seductive look over my shoulder every few steps, making sure that he follows.

He does, his long strides eating up the distance between us, his black eyes disturbingly intense.

Finally, when I’ve lured him beyond the view of others, beyond even the view of Medusa’s perimeter surveillance cameras (because I know exactly where they are; I have my sources), beneath the rock overhang of a small cave, I turn around and wait for him to come to me, the sword and dagger hidden behind my back.

When he’s only a few feet away, just shy of arm’s length, he stops and assesses me with those blank, yet glittering black, demonic eyes.

My eyes get like that too, when I haven’t had Pure blood for a while. But now they’re blue-green like Tal’s.

I’ve seen my real self in the mirror. I will never forget it again.

I wonder what he’s thinking. If he can think anything beyond animal instincts and Medusa’s commands in his current state. I wonder if he can sense that I am not who I am pretending to be, if that’s what’s making him pause.

I decide not to push my luck by speaking. Though I can make my voice sound like my disguise as well, I don’t want to add another variable that might tip Dalair in the wrong direction. I need to lure him closer, while also not inciting him to attack or leave.

Holding his ferocious stare, I step back a little into the cave.

He steps forward, but maintains the same distance between us.

Something seems to catch his attention, and he turns his face slightly, listening.

It’s now or never. I can’t hold his focus much longer.

I lunge the few feet of distance between us and try to run him through with the sword.

He sidesteps easily, twisting just enough to avoid the blade while pulling me into him with one arm.

I try to stab him in the neck with the dagger next, but he deflects that too with his forearm, not caring when metal meets bone as it