Poisoned Kisses by Stephanie Draven

he raised the gun again, his mouth a hard, thin line. “You’d better tell me what game you’re playing, or you’re not going to live long enough to spin another lie.”
    “You can’t kill me with that gun,” Kyra said with more bravado than was strictly called for. Bullets would pass through her, but they’d also hurt like hell. “So just let me explain—”
    “Explain what? Why you tried to murder me in Naples?”
    She winced. “Yes. Among other things.”
    “Are you going to explain why you’ve got a basement outfitted like a dungeon? Who were you going to imprison down there?”
    So, her cell phone wasn’t the only thing he’d found while she was sleeping. There was no point in answering, but he let the silence stretch on and on until finally she blurted out, “You! Okay? I was going to lock you down there.”
    His eyes darkened dangerously, and with more than a little arrogance. “But I’m stronger than you, so you needed the tranquilizers, or sleeping pills, or whatever I found in your bathroom. Seduce me, then sedate me. Was that the plan?” It had not been the plan only because she hadn’t thought that far ahead. She hadn’t known she was going to impersonate Ashlynn Brown until the moment she saw her. But Marco continued with his theory, anyway. “The problem is, I don’t trust easy. You had to sleep with me twice before I trusted you enough to close my eyes, and by then, you were pretty exhausted yourself. Putting on such an enthusiastic sex show must have really tired you out.”
    “It wasn’t a show! ” Kyra sputtered, angrily. He shouldn’t taunt her. Really, he shouldn’t!
    “Why so offended?” He sneered. “That’s how you got me alone the first time, isn’t it? You literally thrust yourself into my lap so you could stick a knife in my heart.”
    Heat came to her cheeks. “Yes, that’s what happened the first time. But that’s not how it was last night.”
    “Right.”
    Kyra’s nostrils flared. “Last night I wanted—”
    “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know what you want from me, and I don’t care.”
    Fine. It was time to make her intentions as naked as she was. “I want you to be careful of the war gods. I’ve told you that they exist. What I haven’t told you is that Ares is looking for you.”
    “Why?”
    “Because he collects monsters!”
    He grimaced, as if she’d cut him again, and she supposed she had. “And you think I’m a hydra. That’s what you were going on about last night.”
    “I know you’re a hydra—”
    “You’re wrong. I wasn’t born like this. I grew up just a normal man. Like anyone else. It wasn’t until Rwanda—”
    “You were war-forged there,” Kyra stressed. “Monsters aren’t all born, Marco. Some of them are made. What you said—sometimes in war you see things so toxic that they poison you—that’s true.”
    “Then why aren’t there thousands like me around the world? Millions!” he roared, slamming his free hand into the door next to his chair.
    He was angry. Furious. And whether he knew it or not, he had the power to kill her. Kyra should’ve been terrified of him, but all she could think about was how to explain. “The circumstances have to be right. You were shot. The lead is still inside you, poisoning you. You’re Greek…just think about your name… And your mother was—”
    “Don’t even speak of her,” he warned. “And don’t tell me I was born of some raping pig.”
    Kyra bit her lower lip. She waited until his breathing steadied before saying, “It doesn’t matter how you became ahydra, Marco. It just matters that you are one, and that Ares is after you.”
    “For what?”
    Kyra sighed. Wasn’t it obvious? How could he be so dense? “For your poisonous blood.”
    “Well, he can’t have it.”
    “You may not have a choice if he finds you. He could kill you and drain you of every drop. But more likely he’ll try to bind you to him in oath. Daddy’s like all the other war gods.