“You died?” I asked, aghast. “But you didn’t really, right? You were immortal, so you came back.”

I didn’t know if I said the last part to comfort him or assuage the pang of pain I felt for the agony he must have suffered at the end of his Commander’s blade.

“I wasn’t born an immortal.” His hand strayed across the face of the blood-darkened stone.

I’d assumed he was born an incubus. “I thought only vampires could make more of their kind?”

During my time in Artemis’s service, I’d learned much about immortals. They were born, not made, except for the vampires. Vampires could impart life through death, but it was a harrowing process that usually failed during its inception. The only other way was how I had been made immortal—the death of a Halfling, which allowed me to be chosen as a warrior by one of the gods.

He turned to face me, a strained look marring his handsome features. “The incubus wasn’t made in me. It existed long before taking over my body. As I lay dying on that dusty road, the creature watched and waited, somehow sensing a body would presently be available for its needs. It was in its incorporeal form, straight out of the depths of the Underworld, where it had resided for eons. Hades saw fit to release it upon the world on the night of my death. Seeing its chance, it took hold of my failing body, strengthening it with unbelievable power, though the transition took its toll. Even with the strength it imbued, I would have died, but for the Parisii who found me before the night was out and took me in. Saving their people from slaughter eventually saved my life. But it was no longer my own.”

“How so?” Though I’d heard tales of other incubi, Roth was the first I’d ever met. He might be the only one of his kind—a mortal made immortal through the soul of a demon. Gods.

If Roth’s expression was pained before, it was anguished now. “It…used me. You well know the needs of an incubus. At first, I enjoyed every debauchery, every woman. I was even proud of myself. I felt powerful, reveling in the strength of the incubus and taking its gifts. It was like a drug. But after hundreds of years, I realized nothing the incubus gave was a gift. I am cursed. You saw me with Corinne. My control over it is tenuous at best.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “One time, I made the mistake of trying to starve it out of me. Denying its needs for nights on end…”

His words came haltingly before stopping altogether. I’d never seen past his strong facade to the true man within, and I was shocked at my own reaction, wanting to soothe him and gentle the beast inside.

I knew what it felt like to be used, all too well.

“Go on.” My voice barely rose to a whisper.

His gaze roamed the walls of the tunnel as if he felt trapped, so I took a step back to give him some breathing room. The pain he felt made him like a caged animal, raw and unbending as he searched for an escape.

He seemed to snap back to himself at my retreat, a slight, chilly burst flooding the close quarters. “I can’t live without it. Not anymore. Were the incubus to die, I would as well. We are one.” His tone changed to all business. “We’d best be going.” He turned and forged back down the tunnel, his long strides setting a clipped pace.

We retraced our steps to the Étienne Noir in silence.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d learned. Roth had once been a fierce warrior for Rome, but still held on to his humanity enough to save sick and wounded Parisii from slaughter.

All I’d known of him was a cocky, sex-crazed incubus—nothing more. I’d felt an undeniable attraction to him ever since I met him, but now I feared I was even more curious about his inner workings. He didn’t relish the women he was with as I’d assumed. He’d been forced into it, and I could only wonder about what had happened when he’d tried to deny it.

I took a deep breath as we approached the door leading back into the club. Roth wrenched it open with a violent movement and stalked inside. He took a different route from the one we’d used earlier, thankfully avoiding Voltaire’s den. The cost of admission had already been paid. Leaving was free.

I followed Roth through the club-goers who were still enjoying their many debaucheries. We exited into the street. Free from the closeness of the catacombs and the club, the open air left me feeling naked. The eyes of a thousand stars watched my folly here on earth.

Roth set off toward his bike, not seeming to care if I was with him or not. I hastened to keep up.

“Can you slow down a second?”

He slowed his pace, not looking around at me.

“What’s the matter with you?” Was he still feeling the effects of reliving his nightmare? Of his death?

When he didn’t answer, I figured I’d try a different tack to get him talking, something to lighten the mood. “Still thinking about our kiss, are you?”

“Of course I am.” He whirled on me, his dark hair tousling enticingly as his eyes lit with that inner heat. “It was the first I’ve had in over two centuries.”