“Grief. So much of it,” she said softly. “You actually have to watch those you love age and pass on, knowing you will be left behind … forever. You can’t even tell yourself what so many human beings do—that you will meet all your loved ones again someday in the afterlife. You are denied that comfort because of the nature of who and what you are. I can’t even imagine how much pain that causes you.”

“It is … it is not an easy choice to come back from the Ether. It takes great fortitude of spirit to encourage ourselves to leave the relative safety of it. But that would be like shutting yourself off from the beauty of loving relationships because there is the painful possibility it will fall apart. Right now my queen is struggling with this very problem. In spite of her devotion to our people, her commitment to seeing an end to this infinite war, she did not want us to be reborn because it would mean one of us would eventually have to watch the other die. When you love as deeply as we do, with every corner of the soul … the loss is incomprehensible. And even a hundred years in the Ether is not able to erase the agony of it.”

“Y-your … queen?”

Menes looked at her in surprise, suddenly realizing how much he had confided in her. He had not wanted to mention Hatshepsut to her just yet, to lead her to believe that Jackson was unattainable because he was destined for another. It was bad enough that Jackson was struggling with his conscience on that one.

But perhaps it would be for the better, he mused thoughtfully.

“Yes. My queen. She is in the Ether, awaiting rebirth. She and I … there is nothing to compare it with, Marissa. Humans use the term ‘soul mate’ in order to try to make others understand the depth of feeling they harbor toward an individual that they love beyond all measure. But soul mate, in the case of my queen and myself, is woefully inadequate. And perhaps a little … inaccurate, since we are already mated with another soul when we exist in the flesh.

“In truth there is nothing capable of expressing what lies between me and my queen. She is beyond perfection in my eyes. She is that which holds all of the molecules of my physical self together. She is the only thing that can comfort my turbulent, enduring spirit when it begins to feel it has walked the world much too long.” He drew breath, the delicious smell of Marissa provoking memories of her taste onto his tongue. His body tightened with excitement as he filled his physical senses with her and thought of his queen. His appreciation for Marissa was growing rapidly beyond just the physical. She was complex and delightful, always surprising him with how she wanted to project herself on one hand, and what ran deep and true inside of her on the other.

“You mean … you mean you’re waiting for her?” He watched the light dawn in her eyes and had to work hard to suppress a smile at her sudden and glorious fury. “Of all the low-down dirty-dog things to do!” she erupted. “You have a woman waiting for you in those mists”—she waved a hand up toward the ceiling with an agitated flick of her wrist—“all alone up there and, by your account, in a state of grief and loneliness, and you’re down here getting all handsy with me?”

“Yes, indeed, that does make me something of a scoundrel, wouldn’t you say?” he said, not knowing why he was taking so much delight in her reaction. Perhaps it was because she was so indignant, so beautifully strong that the entire room practically resonated with her outrage. She was, he realized, a champion. She chose a side, most likely an underdog or someone who had somehow been wronged or victimized, and she became their protection … their armor … and with no regard for the damage she might suffer because of it. She was a glittering, impenetrable essence that repelled all enemies with all that she was, and would not abandon what she protected unless she was ripped away by force.

Oh yes. She was glorious.

And she was perfect.

A perfect queen and a perfect mate.

Chapter Ten

She was pissed. Really, really pissed. Probably because her whole body was burning with the embarrassment of having been made a fool of. It was bad enough that Jackson had been yanking her out of her comfort zone and rubbing her raw against her grating ethics, but to know that he knew there was no future between them and had manhandled her anyway?

Oh yes. She was furious. Her whole face and body burned with it, her heart sinking with shame for being so foolish even as her back rose into defensive hackles. Her fingers curled, as if they wanted to grab him around the neck and choke the life out of him. It was no wonder, because the impulse was not all that far off in that moment. And he was smiling at her still! That cocky, smug little smile that felt to her like he was thinking dirty, dirty thoughts about her.

The pig.

“It figures you would be proud of yourself for that! Quite the accomplishment, getting your hands on my ass. Wow. I see why you’re the ruler of your people,” she said, venom in every single word she spat at him. “With deception skills like that you are perfect for politics!”

“If you equate me with the politicians of your society you are mistaken,” he said with serious intellectual contemplation in his tone. “They are renowned for their treachery and deceit. I, however, have never lied to you.”

“Oh sure, you just decided to omit a few key details,” she said bitterly.

He stepped closer to her then, invading her personal space and forcing her to look up. She tried to yank her wrist free of him and backpedal, but to her dismay the wall was at her back and his grip was not easy to break. After all, he was a titan. What chance did she have against such a powerful being?

Well, she might be outmatched physically, but in the matter of wits and, apparently, ethics, she had him in her dust.

“That’s just as bad as lying,” she railed at him, but awkwardly realizing it was very uncomfortable to argue and make a stand when being bathed by the overwhelming heat of a powerfully potent male. “It makes you even more of a pig because you can justify yourself in such a self-serving way. No wonder your people have been at war for eons!”

“I’m so surprised,” he said in a soft, matter-of-fact manner, “to find you so harshly judgmental without even giving opportunity for explanations.”

“I think the topic at hand is pretty self-evident!”

“How strange,” he said with a soft, honest sense of musing as he reached out and caressed her temple lightly before running two fingers along the length of her hair, “that you profess such unequivocal knowledge about a person belonging to a species that, for you, had not existed before today. I had thought you much more thoughtful than that.”

“Do not turn this around on me,” she bit out, floored by his audacity.

“But it is about you. All of this is about you. You who are so fair-minded and so tolerant of so many people caught in so many difficult circumstances, and yet when you feel that a man might have potentially betrayed you, you do not even wish to slow down and think you might be misinterpreting. Tell me, hummingbird, why do you fly so swiftly? What makes you think you can’t sit still for a moment lest a predator snatches you up and hurts you?”

“Stop touching me, Jackson!” She reached to shove him off of her but the moment she did so she felt the overwhelming strength of him through her palm and fingers. He would not move, she realized, until he wanted to be moved. She was weak and insignificant to him. Not just woman to man, but immortal to mortal.

“But I like to touch you. I like to look at you. And I very much like the way you smell, Marissa.” The timbre of his voice dropped even lower on that last statement, making her breath catch as her lower legs went traitorously weak under her.

“Get off of me,” she demanded through her clenched teeth.

“Ask me what my motives are, Marissa.”

“Intimidation? Bullying? Selfishness? Why ask? I already know.”

“Ask me,” he said, his head lowering so he was breathing the request across her lips. Her entire body clenched, going weak as if she were a hormonal teenager about to be kissed for the first time. Damn him! Damn her. God, all she wanted to do was go back home, go to bed, and wake up knowing all of this had just been a ridiculous nightmare.

“Back. Off.” She gritted both words out, using all of her strength of will to keep from lashing out and physically punching him in the eye. She wasn’t by nature a violent person, and as mad as she was, the impulse still shocked her. When he didn’t move, keeping himself that barest breath of distance away from her mouth, she was shocked to find her entire body reacting on a visceral, physical level, her chest rising and falling hard with each rapid breath, her mouth craving, as though wishing for him to close the distance between them. How could her body react one way when her mind and emotions were so powerfully motivated in the opposite direction? It was confusing and embarrassing because she felt as though he knew very, very well the effect he was having on her. “I won’t ask because I don’t want to know,” she said, her eyes burning, the sting in her nose warning her that if she didn’t regain control she was going to cry out of frustration.

“When I entered the Ether,” Jackson said, “Menes was there waiting for me. A human can only enter the Ether when on the cusp of death … and only very specific kinds of impending deaths. Far enough to take life, but not so far it can’t be reclaimed once the powerful strength and healing abilities of the Bodywalker has joined with its human host. When I came into the Ether, Menes, like all of the lawful Politic, asked permission to join with me. They make it as clear as possible, pull no punches, make you see the good and the bad of what you are about to become. Menes was especially careful, knowing that he is pharaoh over a warring race. It cannot be just anyone, you see, to Blend with a being of such heavy duty and responsibility … not to mention having a target painted on your back.

“But he asked, Marissa, and I said yes. And now I am asking. I’m telling you everything you need to know, I am seeking out in you everything I need to seek. Menes wasn’t a part of me five minutes before he knew what I had been hiding from myself for so long now. He knew you were special. He knew I wanted you. And he knew that, had we not been restricted by ethics and protocol, I would have done anything to make you mine.”

“You … b-but …” she stammered.

“Her name is Hatshepsut. In her original life she was one of the most powerful queens of Egypt. She is going to need a very precious host, a woman of strength and beauty. A woman of fire and passion. A woman of heart and wisdom. She is going to need you, Marissa, just like I need you.”

He closed that last aching distance between their lips, catching her breath in his mouth before kissing her with a soft ferocity, the connection so gentle and yet the emotion behind it so fierce. She had never been kissed while inundated with so many thoughts and emotions warring through her. It made her feel like she was completely out of control. There was something thrilling and terrifying about that. Her first instinct should have been to flee, to run away far and fast and never, ever look back. But what she did in actuality was reach out for him, her palms flattening on his chest just before curling into it, pulling the soft cotton of the shirt he wore into the tightness of her fists. She was wedged between his muscled body and the wall, but she could swear he was the harder and more immovable of the two. The perception was due to the fact that she knew just how powerful he was, knew the strength he was capable of. And yet he touched her so gently, just the tips of his fingers drifting over the rise of her cheek before filtering into her hair. He still held her wrist in his opposite hand, holding her even though her hand was already against him. It was as though he were anticipating—

She gasped in shock as his words finally sank in, a stunning wash of cold dashing all the immediate heat he had inspired. She tried to jerk back and away, but there was simply nowhere for her to go. So instead she tore her mouth free of his and, panting hard for breath, turned her face down and used the press of her forehead against his chest to hide herself from him.

“No,” she gasped on ragged breath. “No! You don’t mean … but … you can’t mean that! You barely know me! I don’t … and don’t I have to—?”

She was speaking incoherently because she wasn’t thinking straight. How could she when he was pressed so close to her, overwhelming everything that she was, filling every breath with that so very male scent of him. His taste was on her lips, the burn of five o’clock shadow along the edges of them.

“How do you know what I mean and what I don’t mean if we are such strangers?” he asked her, somehow confusing her with the logic. “Why do I feel like I am coming home when I kiss you if I barely know you?” He took a breath and she knew, she just knew he was drawing in her scent. His eyes were half-closed with the obvious pleasure of it. “We have just spent these past minutes talking of the enduring souls of my people and you, a nascent original who has only known one life, presumes to know everything there is to know about the soul and what it would be like if two souls of perfect complement came together? No. No, that’s foolishness,” he chided softly. “Even more foolish than a man who longs for a woman for over a year and yet stays seated at his desk, allowing her to walk by again and again, thinking he could be content with just the vision of her and the soft trailing eddies of her scent.