Adonis was more than taken by surprise when the man Claire was with struck him in the face. It wasn't something that happened all that often. In fact, it must have been the first time in over five centuries that he had been dealt a physical blow from a mortal.
The standing feet from the fallen prince had both fists clenched tightly, anger burning in his veins, and Adonis knew that his plan had failed.
"Michael!"
Adonis watched as Claire, the woman he desired, ran to the man's side. She put both of her hands up to the man's broad chest, pressing against it trying to hold him back.
A look of anger went to Claire's eyes, but Michael soon enough calmed down, but that same glare went to Adonis. Another rarity, Adonis felt a feeling short of fear go through his being. Something about Michael's presence was strong enough to put such a feeling in Prince Adonis that he shook with that first look.
Hearing words of concerned onlookers who came to investigate the commotion, Adonis saw his opening, and snuck off to the side when a woman blocked Michael's view of him. He went to the nearest exit and scrambled out the door, wondering more of what had happened.
"What happened?"
Claire was trying to hide her feelings of what had just swept over her when that man had grabbed her wrist. She would not mention that detail for obvious reasons, so she had to come up with something to cover suspicion. "I was reading a book and a man was passing by me. He got a bit too close and I took offence to what felt like groping."
The older woman looked at her with a questionable glance, "That must have been one heck of a close call for a scream like that."
The younger woman opened her mouth to speak when her husband stepped forward, "Why don't we just ask the guy who so-called groped my wife and see what he says?"
The older woman nodded in agreement, but when she turned she saw that the man in question was gone.
Claire remained quiet the entire way home, her arms held to her sides, and Michael tried to ask her what was going on to no avail. His wife was obviously distraught over what had happened, and Michael was sure that that man in the bookstore had something to do with it. Too bad he never got his scent, and then the former soldier wouldn't have a hard time finding him and beating the truth out of his worthless body. But he wasn't sure what was going on, and he wouldn't want to beat someone up for an assumption, and it might have been what Claire had called 'an accident'. Besides, the prospect of beating someone up for feeling up his wife would have made things worse, not to mention only make himself feel better.
Still, Claire kept to herself as they drove to the woods west of Salem, where their house was kept on a lonely road. The car stopped and Claire got out with Michael close behind. He stopped to take his jacket off, but Claire seemed like a woman on a mission, not stopping for anything and heading past the living room. Once inside, Michael gently grabbed Claire's arm. It pulled her back and she turned when she was pulled.
"Michael-"
Her husband raised her arm, specifically her left wrist which had slight bruising on her skin up to his lips. "This looks painful."
Such an act of compassion was appreciated from Michael, Claire knew he was concerned. She couldn't keep anything from him. "Yes, it hurt a little, but I am fine now."
Michael didn't seem convinced; the slight narrowing of his eyes confirmed this. "Claire, what happened?"
The young witch pulled her arm back, "I'm not sure, but what I do know is that it was some form of magic." 'A magic I do not recall encountering before...'
Nodding once, Michael followed Claire to the kitchen, talking as he watched her wash her hands in the sink. "Still, that guy didn't look more out of the ordinary than we did then."
Claire turned off the faucet, "I know, but I'm at a loss for what happened. I think a good amount of research is needed to solve the mystery."
She walked slowly past her husband, pondering what could explain what she had felt.
"Well, you should probably rest before you get too involved. A nap couldn't hurt, Claire."
She stopped and turned back to her husband, nodding once with a quick smile before continuing on her way.
There was minimal sound coming from Adonis' chamber, the only audible noises coming from the four women swooning around the lone seat in the darkened chamber. Adonis sat in the throne like chair, his arms on the rests. With a woman on each arm, and a third on the floor near his knees. The fourth woman was dancing for her master in an exotic way.
Whether or not Adonis was adoring or even paying attention to his slave's movements was not made apparent.
His eyes, golden yellow and irises like a cat; Adonis was not paying attention to anything except the images in his mind. The four women that were around him were exceptionally beautiful. All color of their hairs were different. One blonde, another brunette, the third a raven haired, and finally the red head. The hair was one thing; their bodies were a similar range. From luscious and ample to slim and smooth. Surely they would grant his attention totally.
Yet, it wasn't a red head he had his mind on. Adonis's mind was on a darker shade of blue.
Long and dark blue, attached to a head of the most captivating woman on earth, and her name danced off his tongue under his breath.
Adonis' appearance slowly changed, from the unnaturally beautiful man from hours before. Two curled horns menacingly formed from his temples, and body markings resembling tattoos covered his entire upper body in an ancient language.
"Hunter, I am troubled."
The large golden armored bodyguard kneeled before his master, "Milord...what troubles you?"
Waving off the two women at his sides, Adonis sat up, just as his finger nails became longer to almost two inches in length, "You know where the word Tantalizing comes from?"
The guard didn't hesitate; he slowly shook his head without looking to his master.
Adonis liked that hesitation, "The story goes that a man named Tantalus got greedy and got all he wanted. Though he was ultimately punished by the gods for his greed, the word came to the encyclopedia because it was given to those who wanted something so badly that they would reach for it but never get it."
The prince walked from his throne, his boots clicking on the concrete, and a forked tipped tail reaching the floor. "You know what the connection is between the story...and myself?"
The guard stood up, holding a great sword in his large hands, "The woman you desire, the one from the book shop. Right sire?"
The air thickened though no one except Hunter knew it was because of his lord, upset by the obvious fact that he was answered correctly.
The incubus looked his servant square in the eyes while his red headed female slave went and ran her hands up and down her lord's right leg, caressing it. "She will be mine, Hunter. That I promise."
4: Chapter 4: Plans