Kiss of the Night(65)

It was true. He had never given any thought to the Daimons other than the fact that they were killers who needed to die.

As for Apollites...

He hadn't thought of them at all.

Now he had a "human" face to go with the term "Apollite."

Not just a face... he had a touch.

A lover's gentle whisper.

But what did it change?

Nothing. At the end of the day, he was still a Dark-Hunter and he would still pursue the Daimons and slay any of them he found.

There was nothing more to be said between them. This was one obstacle neither of them could ever overcome.

So, he withdrew from the conflict. "You have free run of the house at night and the grounds during daylight."

"And if I want to leave?"

He scoffed. "Ask Chris how easy that is."

That familiar light came into her emerald eyes. The one that challenged him and told him he didn't have any real power over her. It was one of the things he admired most in her-that fire and strong will. "You know, I'm used to getting out of impossible situations."

"And I'm used to tracking and finding Apollites and Daimons."

She arched one brow. "Are you challenging me?"

He shook his head. "I'm only stating fact. You leave and I will bring you back here. In chains if need be."

She gave him a suddenly droll look that reminded him of Chris. "Will you punish me too?"

"I think you're a little old for that. I also think you're smart enough to know how stupid it would be for you to leave here while Stryker and his men are salivating to find you again."

Cassandra hated the fact that he was right. "Can I at least call my father and tell him where I am so he won't worry?"

He pulled the cell phone off his belt and handed it to her. "You can leave it in the living room when you finish."

He turned and opened the door.

"Wulf," she said before he could leave.

He faced her.

"Thank you for saving me again when I know it must burn every part that you did so."

His look softened. "It doesn't burn every part of me, Cassandra. Only you do that."

Her jaw went slack as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

She stood dumbstruck as those words whipped through her. Who would have thought her Viking warrior could have a more tender side? But then she ought to know the truth. She had seen his heart in their dreams.

Dreams that were real. In those few precious hours, she had glimpsed the man's heart. His fears.

Things he kept guarded and secret from everyone, except for her...

"I must be out of my mind," she breathed. How could she feel any tenderness toward a man who made no bones about the fact that he killed her people?