Almost as if speaking to herself, she continued, I would love to fly. I've always wondered what it be like to have that sense of freedom.A wistful note in her voice tugged at something deep inside him.He replied. I couldn't conceive of living without it. I can't imagine being forever grounded.

London was littered with social clubs and houses of chance, but Malfeasance was not just any gaming hell. It was located in the most notorious part of London and, Graydon had heard, was run by a pariah Djinn named Malphas.

He had not become a sentinel by worrying about what he should or shouldn't do. He would live or die as he always had, by making decision he knew to be right...Graydon didn't hide from life. He flew at it with everything he had.

Eternity might be captured in a single kiss.

He closed his eyes. Swiftly like a predator, the vision of his death struck. This time it would not be denied.The white ground, black rocks, and red drops of his heart's blood growing on the ground like blooming roses. He lost himself in the sensation of liquid warmth flowing between his fingers.When he could finally see again, he found himself kneeling on the floor, shoulders hunched. That damned scene hung like an albatross around his neck, until he almost wished it would go ahead and happen, just so that he could get it the fuck over with.He had carried that albatross for almost two hundred damn years - exactly from the moment when he had responded to a damsel in distress and had embroiled himself in another man's curse.

Giving him a grateful nod, Graydon turned away.A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to stop in his tracks. Dragos' grip clenched, almost to the point of pain.Normally, Dragos was not demonstrative with anyone other than Pia and Liam. Moved, Graydon angled his face away. After a moment, he reached up to grip the other man's hand in return. Only then did Dragos' hold ease and allow him to continue on his way.

Tiago turned to survey the large, crowded ballroom. "Good job not killing anybody.""That's what Pia said," Dragos told him. "Night's not over yet.

Do you have to take note of every little thing I do? I mean every tiny, little thing, Dragos?""Yes," he said simply. "When I look at you, even when things are going to hell, somehow everything is all right.

I'll make you eat those words.""You are very welcome to try," she whispered. Her attempt at cockiness had turned breathy and yearning. "Please, try very hard."A smile lit his hard features. "Trust me, that will be entirely my pleasure.

So, is that your long scaly reptilian tail, or are you just happy to see me?

Maybe your sperm is so mighty, you shoot magic bullets."His intent expression splintered, and he burst out laughing. Almost as quickly, he sobered again and told her with a completely straight face, "Of course I do.

She crooned in his head. Honey, I'm so proud of you for not killing anybody.His gaze flashed to hers, and that flat, assessing expression vanished as he laughed. Squeezing her fingers, he told her, Week's not over yet.

She had tried to imagine him as a young Gladiator in the arena. Back then he must have been as dangerous as a lean, half-starved alley cat. Now, the alley cat had long since vanished. What stood in his stead was a scarred and even more deadly lion who carried the weight of having lived for many years in his prime.