"Why?"
He cast a glance over to Selena and Bill. "I just think it would be wise."
"Why?"
He growled low in his throat.
Before Julian could respond, three men came up beside him, and by the looks on their faces, Grace could tell they weren't happy.
Worse, Julian appeared to be the source of their ire.
The biggest was a body-builder monstrosity who was about three inches shorter than Julian, but quite a bit thicker and wider. He curled his lip as he ran his gaze over Julian's back. And it wasn't until that instant that Grace recognized him.
Paul.
Her heart hammered. Physically, he'd changed a lot over the years. His face was broader, with premature wrinkles around his eyes, and he'd lost a great deal of hair. But he still had the same sneer.
"He was the one messing with Amber," one of his flunkies said.
A deadly calm fell over Julian, and it sent a shiver down her spine. There was no telling what Julian might do, and judging by what she saw, Paul hadn't changed nearly as much inside as he had outside. A frat-boy poster-child, Paul had always traveled with an entourage. He believed in making a show of power in everything he did. That macho ego of his wouldn't let him leave until he pushed Julian into a fight.
She only hoped her general had more sense than to fall for such a stunt.
"Do you need something?" Julian asked without looking at Paul or his friends.
Paul laughed and slapped one of his friends across the chest. "What kind of faggot accent is that? I thought you told me Pretty-boy here was after my girl. From the look and sound of him, I'd say he was after one of you."
Julian turned and cut a glare to Paul that would have made anyone with sense back away.
Paul, of course, had no sense. He'd never had.
"What's the matter, Pretty-boy?" Paul mocked. "Did I offend you?" He looked at his friends and shook his head. "Just what I thought, he ain't nothing but a pretty, faggoty coward."
Julian laughed, but the tone of it was more evil than happy.
"C'mon, Julian," Grace said, taking his arm before things got any worse. "Let's leave."
Paul turned that sneer on her, until he recognized her. "Well, well, Grace Alexander. It's been a while." He clapped the short, dark-haired man next to him on the back. "Hey, Tom, you remember Grace from college, don't you? Her little white panties put me over the top of our bet."
Julian froze at the words.
Grace could feel the old pain swell, but she refused to show it. She would never again give Paul that power over her.
"No wonder he was after Amber," Paul continued. "He probably wanted to try a woman who doesn't cry all over him when he screws her."
Julian whirled on Paul so fast that she could barely follow the motion. Paul swung. Julian ducked and sent a fist into Paul's ribs that knocked him five feet into the crowd.
Cursing, he ran back at Julian.
Julian moved to the side, tripped Paul and flipped him into the air.
Paul landed on his back.
Before he could move, Julian placed his foot on Paul's throat, and smiled a cold, small smile that chilled her all the way to her toes.
Paul grabbed Julian's shoe in both hands and tried to remove it. He shook from the effort of it, but still Julian kept his foot where it was.
"Did you know," Julian asked in a casual tone that was truly terrifying, "that it only takes five pounds to completely collapse your esophagus?"
Paul's eyes and arms bulged as Julian increased the weight on his neck.
"Please, man," Paul begged as he tried to push Julian's shoe off his throat. "Please don't hurt me, okay?"
Grace held her breath in terror as Julian applied even more pressure.
Tom took a step forward.
"Do it," Julian said in warning, "and I'll rip your heart out and feed it to your friend."
Grace froze at the deadly look on Julian's face. This wasn't the tender man who made love to her at night. This was the face of the general who had once laid waste to Rome's finest.
There was no doubt in her mind that Julian could, and would, carry out that threat. Judging by the pallor of Tom's face as he stepped back, she could tell he knew it, too.
"Please," Paul begged again as tears fell down his face. "Please don't hurt me."
Grace swallowed as those haunting words tore through her. They were the same ones she had once cried in Paul's bed.
It was then Julian met her gaze. She saw the fury in Julian's eyes, as well as his desire to kill Paul for her.
"Let him go, Julian," she said softly. "His entire body isn't worth one molecule of yours."
Julian looked down at Paul and narrowed his eyes. "Where I come from, we butchered worthless cowards like you just for practice."
Just as she was sure Julian was going to kill Paul, he stepped back. "Get up."
Rubbing his throat, Paul rose slowly to his feet.
Julian's cold, dead look actually made Paul flinch. "You owe my lady an apology."
Paul wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "I'm sorry."
"Say it like you mean it," Julian said quietly.
"I'm sorry, Grace. Really. I'm very, very sorry."
Before Grace could respond, Julian draped a possessive arm over her shoulders and walked her out of the club.
They didn't speak until they reached her car, but Grace could sense something was profoundly wrong with Julian. His entire body was tense, like a spring coiled way too tight.
"I wish you had let me kill him," Julian said as she fumbled in her jeans pocket for her keys.
"Julian-"
"You have no idea how much it hurt for me to walk away from him. I am not the kind of man who just walks away." He slammed his hand onto the top of her car, then spun around and growled like a cornered lion. "Dammit, Grace. I once fed on the entrails of men like him. And I went from that to..."
Julian hesitated as two thousand years of repressed memories flooded through him. He saw himself as the respected leader he'd been. The hero of Macedonia. The man who had once made entire legions of Romans surrender as soon as they recognized his standard.
And then he saw himself as what he had become. An empty shell. A coveted pet, performing at the beck and call of his summoner.
For two thousand years he had lived without emotions, lived without speaking more than a handful of words.
He had gone into survival mode. And he had lost himself to it.
Until Grace had reached out and found the human side of him...
Grace watched a myriad of emotions cross Julian's face. Anger, confusion, horror, and finally agony. She walked to his side of the car, but he refused to let her touch him.
"Don't you see?" he said, his tone raw from his emotions. "I don't know who I am anymore. I knew who I was in Macedonia, and then I became this." He held his arm up so that she could see the words Priapus had burned into his forearm. "And then you changed that," he said, looking at her.
The anguish in his eyes tore through her. "Why did you have to change me, Grace? Why couldn't you have left me as I was? I'd taught myself to feel nothing anymore. I just came, did what I was told, and left. I no longer wanted anything. And now..." He looked around him like a man caught in the middle of a nightmare he couldn't escape.
She reached for him. "Julian-"
Shaking his head, he stepped away from her grasp. "No!" He raked his hand through his hair. "I don't know where I belong anymore. You don't understand."
"Then tell me," she begged.
"How can I tell you what it's like to walk between two worlds? To be despised by both? I am neither man nor god, I am a hybrid abomination. You have no idea how I grew up. My mother passed me off to my father who passed me off to his wife who passed me around to anyone who could get me out of her sight. And for the last twenty centuries, I have been bartered and sold. I have spent my entire life searching for someplace to call home. Someone who would want me, and not my face, or my body." The tormented look in his eyes burned her.
"I want you, Julian."
"No you don't. How could you?"
She gaped at his question. "How could I not? My God, I've never in my life wanted to be with anyone as much as I want to be with you."
"It's lust you feel."
Now, that made her angry. How dare he dismiss her feelings as something so trivial. Her feelings for him ran much deeper than mere lust, they reached all the way to her soul. "Don't tell me what I feel. I'm not a child."
Julian shook his head, unable to believe her words. It was the curse. It had to be. No one could love him. No one ever had; not since the moment he'd been born.
For Grace to love him...
It would be a miracle. It would be...
Pure bliss. And he had not been born to feel bliss.
You will suffer as no man ever has.
This was just another trick of the gods. Another cruel hoax sent to punish him.
He was tired now. Weary and exhausted from the fight. He just wanted peace from the pain. A haven from the frightening feelings he felt every time he looked at her.
Grace clenched her teeth at the denial she saw in Julian's eyes. But then, who could blame him?
He had been hurt so many times. But somehow, some way, she was going to prove to him just how much he meant to her.
She had to. Because losing him would kill her.