His gorgeous features taunted her. Gods, but no man had ever been born more handsome. Black eyebrows arched over a pair of pale swirling silver eyes. And his lips . . . all too well she remembered how well they'd pleased her and for how long. He'd been an insatiable, skilled, and thoughtful lover. One who'd never left her wanting.
"Would you really cut my throat?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
She stood strong against her volatile emotions. "Release my daughter and you'll find out."
He rubbed his neck against the sharp blade, letting it cut a fine line into his skin. Zephyra stared at the blood, her mouth watering for a taste of it. That was one of the things she hated most about what Apollo had done to them. The lure of Apollite blood was a madness that made them have to feed whenever they smelled it. It was a compulsion no one born of her race could deny.
Unable to stand it, she pulled the dagger back, grabbed Stryker by the hair, and drew him close.
Stryker sucked his breath in sharply as she clamped her fangs into his skin. Chills spread through his body while he welcomed her arms holding him close. The sensation of her breath on his neck heated his entire body.
"Gods, how I've missed you."
She bit harder, drawing the blood into her mouth until it pained him. "I hate you with every beat of my heart."
Those words hurt him more than her feeding. Yet he took plea sure from the pain. He deserved her hatred. "I wish I could go back and change the night I left."
Zephyra pulled back with a curse. "You were always a coward."
He grabbed her arm and jerked her closer. "Never a coward. A fool maybe, but I've never run from anything."
"If you really think that, you're even dumber than I thought. Now give me Medea."
He shook his head. "My daughter stays with me."
Growling, Zephyra went for his throat.
Stryker caught her and held her back. "Still so unreasonable." But worse, she was delectable and he wanted her with a madness that was allconsuming. He leaned close enough to her hair that he could inhale the delicate scent of valerian mixed with lavender. That smell slammed into him. Gods, how he wanted her. "I'll tell you what. You want me dead and I want to taste you. What say we settle this like the warriors we are?"
"How so?"
"We fight and if you win, you kill me."
She cocked her head suspiciously. "If I lose?"
"You give me two weeks to win you back. If at the end of two weeks you still loathe me, I'll let you execute me."
Zephyra froze at his offer. She eyed him suspiciously. "How do I know I can trust you?"
"I'm a man of my word. Of all people, you know my honor means everything to me. If I haven't won you back in two weeks, then I deserve nothing better than to die by your hand."
"You know I'm not the same weak-kneed fool who couldn't cut her own meat that you married. I will kill you."
"I know."
"Then I accept your terms." She stepped back. "Now prepare to die."
Stryker manifested two ancient Greek swords and handed one to her.
Her eyes glowing with anger, she took it from his hand and readied herself. Stryker saluted her with his.
She charged, slicing at his throat. He caught the blade with his and forced her back. Twirling, he changed hands to catch her on an upswing that almost succeeded in disarming her. But she was quick and strong. And like him, she changed hands, and drove him back with the ferocity of her attack.
"You're incredible," he breathed, impressed with her skill and passion.
"And you're not." She scissor-kicked him back and swung the blade at his neck.
Stryker felt the burn of it as he dodged left and dropped to the floor, where he swept her feet out from under her. Cursing him, she flipped to land back on her feet before she thrust at his outstretched arm. Stryker smiled in appreciation as he continued to press his attack. She feinted left, then right. He caught her blade with his and swung it high, out of her grasp.