I cursed as I flew through space, seeing the surprised faces of mortals and immortals alike as I disappeared and reappeared at intervals. Desmerada—self-appointed vampire queen—had spies looking for me everywhere. I had no doubt one of her dark watchers had seen my display of teleportation power and already faded into the Underworld to report to its master. I never would have used my ability in such an obvious manner, but there was no time. The thought of Helen in the hands of the demon made me skip even faster, materializing for only a split second before vanishing back into the ether.
Only the day before, I had trailed Elena from Olympus to earth, unwilling to let her out of my presence once I’d located her among Artemis’s warrior maidens. She’d been in the city for only a few hours, and I could not take my eyes off her, watching her through the windows of Roth’s chateau and following her as she took a stroll through the city streets.
Just knowing she was alive gave me a sense of euphoria, but being so close to her without taking her in my arms was acute torture. Gods, I wanted to go to her and explain our past, hoping it would give us a future. But I knew now wasn’t the time.
I had to pacify Artemis before I could even dream of speaking to Helen again. I had wormed my way into the goddess’s good graces with flattery and lies, but I had only one true goal. Helen. And she was alive, vibrant, and just as I remembered her. Now that I’d left Artemis to remain with Helen, the goddess would likely smite me on sight.
I would risk it just to be near Helen again. I ached to claim her, to go to her and promise her I would never fail her again, that I would love her for as long as I lived.
But what would I say to her? Hi, I’m Paris. You used to love me. I’ve loved you for thousands of years, thought you were dead, found you alive, so let’s get back together? I could see her turning me into a steaming pile of vampire bits. She had no memory of her previous life. She didn’t even give me a second glance when I first saw her in Artemis’s ranks. Now she was known as Elena de Artemis, the tactician of the moon goddess’s huntress army.
Even though she had a new name and station, I could feel her in my bones. It was her, through and through. She was still Helen, strong and proud, the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in my mortal or immortal life.
I’d continued tailing her earlier in the evening, following her through the streets of the city that shared my name. Though dressed in ill-fitting jeans and a sweater, she was just as tantalizing as I remembered. Tall, yet more graceful than the most delicate fairy. I couldn’t see her eyes but knew they shone a deep, turbulent green. The same green that haunted my dreams and even some of my waking moments.
The men who passed her on the street turned their heads, following her lithe movements. I wanted to destroy them because I knew the secret thoughts that played out in their heads, because they played in mine too.
But more than anything, I wanted to hold her again, to feel her against me. I could still remember her sultry taste on my tongue, the feel of her hands and her mouth. I’d wanted a lifetime of those moments, but they’d been stolen from me, from us both.
I’d dreamed about her, only her, for so long, that when she was actually before me, it was almost too much to bear. I thought I might perish simply from the wanting of her, so close but untouchable.
On Olympus, I had fooled Artemis into thinking I was enamored with the goddess. It had been the only way to stay close to Helen. But now, after I dumped Artemis in a rush to follow my true heart’s desire, the game was up. I could never step foot in Artemis’s realm again.
Helen had been so beautiful, taking her evening stroll. Her honey scent in the air had drawn me closer as she wandered next to the shimmering river. The moon was half-full and dressed in a swath of gauzy clouds. Silvery light had played along the crown of Helen’s head, the glow angelic. Her fingers trailed along the stone railing as her gaze rested on the waters below. What was she thinking about?
Her reverie had taken me to the past. I remembered how we used to tell each other our secrets, quietly pouring our memories into each other in the dark. We would talk and laugh and share our dreams while lying in bed, our love a bond that would never break. Her gentle smile as she stroked my chest was forever etched into my memory.