A smile curled her lips. So the little monster had done the right thing. Now she was able to laugh about the hammer and the olive "branches" he'd put inside. She picked up his note and opened it to find a beautiful masculine script.

I'm really not the asshole you think I am. The journal's from a young woman in an isolated part of Greece and documents her life for about eighteen months. It's pretty much boring reading, but if you want more details, call me. 555-602-1938.

Eirini,

Ash

Eirini-Greek for peace. Tory shook her head. Not the asshole she thought, yeah right. But it was kind of a sweet gesture and he had returned her journal.

With a rose.

Holding it up, she inhaled the sweet scent and debated whether or not she ever wanted to lay eyes on the troll again.

With his arms crossed over his chest, Urian frowned at Ash while Ash sat on his throne in Katoteros and played the guitar. Almost as tall as Ash, Urian had long white blond hair that he wore pulled back into a ponytail. A former Daimon, Urian had been saved by Ash after Urian's father viciously cut his throat. And like his father, Urian had a most acerbic personality that he was more than proud of.

Not willing to deal with Urian's ill mood swings or explain himself, Ash ignored the man while he continued to sing Matchbox 20's "Push" under his breath.

Simi lay on her stomach, watching QVC as she devoured a tub of barbecue-flavored popcorn. She was dressed in black tights and a short plaid skirt with a pink and black peasant top and corset.

Urian moved to where Alexion stood off to the side, also staring at Ash as if Ash were a science experiment that had gone seriously wrong. For thousands of years, Alexion had been the only person Ash allowed in his home besides Simi. Of course that was out of profound guilt since Alexion had been Ias-one of the first Dark-Hunters Artemis created. Ash had managed to bring him back to a quasi-ghost existence by using his blood to keep Ias from being a Shade.

Too bad Savitar hadn't explained those powers to Ash sooner. It would have saved both him and Ias a lot of grief. But at least Ias wasn't in constant pain and misery.

"What's the deal with the bossman?" Urian asked him.

Alexion shrugged. "I don't know. He came in last night with a book, went to his room to read, I suppose, and then he came out here this morning and has been playing… those songs ever since."

Those songs were ballads, which Acheron never played. God-smack, Sex Pistols, TSOL, Judas Priest, but not…

"Is that…" Urian physically cringed before he spat out the name, "Julio Iglesias?"

"Enrique."

Urian grimaced in horror. "I didn't even know he knew any mellow shit. Dear gods… is he ill?"

"I don't know. In nine thousand years, I've never seen him like this before."

Urian shuddered. "I'm beginning to get scared. This has to be a sign of the Apocalypse. If he breaks out into Air Supply, I say we sneak up on him, drag him outside and beat the holy shit out of him."

"I'll let you and the demons do that. I personally like my semi-living state too much to jeopardize it."

Ash looked up and pierced them both with a malevolent glare. "Don't you two girls have something better to do like pick out toe lint?"

Urian grinned. "Not really."

Ash growled a low warning, but before he could really threaten them, his phone rang. Leaning his head back, he sighed in frustration. Damn phone was always going off. This time it better not be Artemis screwing with him or he'd hunt her down and-

His thoughts scattered as he saw a New Orleans area code. He didn't recognize the number and it didn't register a name. How weird. Flipping it open, he answered.

"Is this Ash?"

"Soteria?"

Tory's throat went dry at the way he said her name. Because she was Greek, she'd never really thought Greek was a pretty language, but when he spoke it…

She could barely form a coherent thought. "Um, Tory. I go by Tory."

"Oh, I didn't know. Can I do something for you?"

Yeah baby, get naked and…

She shook her head. She never had thoughts like that and she didn't know why she had them now when she had business to discuss with someone she absolutely hated. "Uh, yeah, I was wondering about the journal. Is there any chance you could meet me later and tell me more about it?"

"What time?"

Grateful he wasn't hanging up on her after she'd tossed a hammer at him, she smiled. "I'll be home in about an hour."

"I'll be there." He hung up.

It wasn't until Tory closed the phone that she realized something. She hadn't told him where she lived. "Oh my God, he's a stalker."

Her phone rang.

She answered it to find Ash there with that deep, mesmerizing voice. "I just realized I don't have your address."

Laughing, she shook her head at her overactive imagination. "I'm not hard to find. I'm at 982 St. Anne down in the Quarter."

"I shall see you later then."

The archaic way he said that actually sent a shiver down her spine. Hanging up, she couldn't help but smile and she didn't even know why.

He's a jerk. A complete and utter ass.

Who'd sent her a rose and who appeared to know how to read a language no one else could. A language she desperately needed to understand. This was business. It wasn't a date. She could stand his pushy arrogance long enough to get what she needed and then she was going to toss him out on his butt.

Ash hesitated as he flashed himself a few houses down from Tory's. Like the woman who owned it, it blended in with the rest of the houses on the street. Really nothing about it stood out, yet it was plainly beautiful. Painted a very pale pink and trimmed in antique white, it was a typical New Orleans turn-of-the-century shotgun rowhouse. The shutters were drawn tightly closed and as he tried to see inside to find her, he saw nothing.

Nothing.

You should probably run.

But why? All it meant was that they'd be friends of some sort. This wasn't the first time this had happened to him.

Bullshit. Even when you were destined to be friends with someone you caught glimpses of them.

With her there was nothing…

That actually scared him and yet he found himself walking up to the door and knocking on it.

He heard what sounded like something getting knocked over inside followed by a low whispered, "Shoot!" He bit back a smile at her obvious distress. There was more scrambling about before she opened the door.

Her brown hair was down today. Thick, shiny and wavy, that hair beckoned to be touched… no, it beckoned a man to bury his face in it and breathe her in. How could he have ever thought it plain? No wonder she'd worn it up the other night. Not to mention, it made her look a lot younger when it was down around her face. Her cheeks were flushed which made her sharp, intelligent eyes glow.

And those lips…

Plump and full, they were made for a night of kissing.

But the best part had to be her glasses which were ever so slightly askew. As if sensing it, she straightened them and blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. "Sorry. I have technical difficulties making it through a room without bumping into something. Thank God my clumsiness is only restricted to the ground. I'd probably kill myself diving if I was this bad under water."

"No problem." Ash ducked down to enter the doorway.

Tory's eyes widened as she watched him walk into her living room. While she knew her place wasn't large, his presence in it seemed to shrink it down to nothing. He literally filled the room with his commanding presence. "You are freakishly tall, aren't you?"

He arched a black brow over the rim of those sunglasses that seemed to be permanently attached to his head. "For a woman wanting my help you are ever determined to insult me. Should I make this as painless as possible and leave now before the die-painfully-you-asshole-prick stuff starts again?"