Lords of the Underworld Bundle (100 page)

A pause. A sigh. “Your desperation intrigues me. Since Anya gave away her greatest treasure to save her man, I have wondered at exactly what the depths of love will drive a heart to do.”

At his words, every cell in Paris's body lit up.

The god's head tilted to the side, his expression pensive. “Tell me why you choose this woman above everything you could ask me for. Why not risk all and beg me to release the warrior Aeron from his quest?”

“I—I—” Fuck. What kind of friend was he? That should have been his request, and it should have been his request weeks ago. “I am ashamed to say I have no answer for you.”

Fingers again ran through his hair, gentle, almost tender. “That does not clear my confusion. She was your enemy, and yet you have placed her above your lifelong friend. He would save you. She would kill you. You love him. You do not love her.”

No, he didn't, and his guilt ratcheted up another notch. “Can't I have both?”

“I am still not convinced I will grant you even one.”

Paris closed his eyes in a futile attempt to shut out that terrible, ever-growing guilt. “My body was able to respond to Sienna as it has never responded to another since I was cursed. I thought, hoped, she could save me from myself.”

“Very selfish of you. I thought you had learned control in your years on earth, yet still, you are a slave to Promiscuity?”

Thanks for digging the knife deeper.
“Yes.”

“If I gave her back to you, she would ultimately betray you. You know that, do you not? Your friend would continue to suffer, and yet he would love you even though you chose a woman over him.”

The words were too much, too real, and Paris sagged forward, clutching his stomach, fighting tears from his eyes.

“That is enough for now. Think about what I have said, demon, and we will talk again.” Cronus was gone in the next instant.

 

“W
HAT ARE YOU DOING
, Sabin?”

“Preparing for war,” he answered, eyeing the warriors surrounding him. They were propped in every corner of their rented house in Rome, watching him intently. “You know that.”

A little while ago, Lucien had returned to Buda and flashed the now-healed Gideon and Kane here. The ceiling's plaster was already crumbling on top of Disaster's head.

Lucien had brought them to “talk some sense into” Sabin. Sabin thought the others needed sense talked into
them.

“What? Why?” Maddox demanded.

“That's what I do, what I'm good at.” He returned his attention to his Sig Sauer, loading bullets into the magazine. “The Hunters we killed at the temple aren't the only ones here. There are more, and they're most likely searching for us. More than that, Paris saw Reyes's woman holding our box in that damned vision of his. Was she holding it for us? Or
them?
”

The ominous question cast a dark silence over the living room. No one knew the answer. “She saved Ashlyn once. I like her,” Maddox said, and not for Ashlyn's benefit. Currently his woman was resting in another room. He meant what he said.

But Sabin wasn't done. “We know Danika spent time with them. We know she doesn't like us. Hunters could still be here, following us, meaning to snatch the box from us the moment we find it.”

“We have
not
known that since the beginning,” Gideon said in a show of agreement. He rubbed his temples, blue hair momentarily shielding his fingers from view.

Strider patted his waist and nodded when he encountered his blades. “I'm with you.”

Sabin glanced at Amun. The man rarely spoke. As keeper of Secrets, he
couldn't
speak without revealing things everyone in the room was probably better off not knowing about each other. But he, too, nodded.

Anya planted her hands on her waist. “I'm not going anywhere without Lucien.”

Love, Sabin scoffed. He'd fallen a few times over the centuries, and each time had been a mistake. Eleven years ago, Dean Stefano's wife, Darla, had been the last to win his heart. After her death, he'd vowed not to allow himself such emotions again. Always he drove women into depression because they couldn't stop doubting themselves and their actions; in extreme cases, like Darla's, that depression drove them to suicide. Love was not worth the hardships it wrought.

Gideon shrugged. “You know how I hate to fight Hunters.”

Good. He was in, as well.

“You want to war? Just like that?” Maddox snapped his fingers. “Without preparation? We did that in Buda, and you know what happened there. A bomb, Torin nearly killed. A plague unleashed on the city.
You
were partly responsible for bringing the Hunters to our door. Obviously, you haven't changed.”

When they'd split up those few thousand years ago, Maddox had sided with Lucien, hoping for peace, and Sabin had mourned the loss of a great soldier. He did not want to split again. But…

“You haven't, either,” Sabin growled. “There cannot be harmony without war. History—history we have
lived
—has proven that time and time again. We must fight for what we want or it will be taken from us.”

“I want the Hunters dead,” Maddox said tightly. “I do.” He was Violence, as tempestuous as human females could often be. The storm inside him drove him to constantly seek calm around him, Sabin knew, but he also knew Maddox now controlled his demon just by thinking of his woman. “I just want my friends alive more. You are rushing out there. You do not know how many Hunters there are, what weapons they have and can use against our females. You—”

Beautiful Ashlyn stepped into the room.

Maddox hadn't seen her, Sabin didn't think, but the man pressed his lips together, cutting off his words. The warrior always seemed to know when the human girl approached, though Sabin wasn't sure whether he could smell her lovely scent or simply sensed her.

His violet eyes scanned the living room and when they landed on her, his expression softened. Sabin studied her, as well. She was the color of honey and just as sweet, as lovely as a cameo. She always appeared so…fragile, which made it difficult for him to understand how she had tamed such a wicked beast as Maddox. No doubt she'd even be able to convince him to change diapers once the baby was born.

Maddox motioned her to him. Smiling, she obeyed. The moment she was within reaching distance, the warrior enfolded her in his arms.

There would be no more talk of war. Maddox would kill anyone who scared his woman, and that was as it should be.

“Hey, everyone,” she said.

A chorus of “heys” rang out.

Maddox frowned down at her. “You are pale. You need more rest. Let me carry you back to our—”

“No, not yet. I, well…I heard something,” she said, features somber now.

Everyone, including Maddox, stiffened. Ashlyn had the unique ability of hearing every conversation that had ever transpired in whatever spot she stood in, no matter how much time had passed, no matter what language was spoken. Those voices were quiet only when Maddox was near her. None of them were sure why that was the case, but Ashlyn liked to say that it was a sign she and Maddox were meant to be together.

Sabin had wanted to make use of her gift on several occasions; Maddox had told him the voices tormented her and had forbidden it. But the warrior would not turn his wrath on Ashlyn for walking away from him and listening on her own. A fact Sabin had mentioned to her on several occasions.

“Did you leave the house?” Maddox asked her, the question tight with only the slightest hint of anger.

“Maybe,” she hedged. “I know you were worried I'm not getting enough rest and wanted me to nap before going out again to listen for past conversations about the box with Anya—who, by the way, would not stop talking about being ejected from the battle at the temple, so I didn't hear much. But any more rest and I might as well dig a grave. I just went for a walk. That's all.”

Good girl,
Sabin thought. He didn't mention that knowing Maddox, Anya had not been the girl's only protector earlier. The warrior had most likely been in the shadows, watching her from a safe distance while she worked.

“Ashlyn,” Maddox uttered, the name a warning. “These are dangerous times. No telling who could have been out there, waiting, watching.”

“I didn't mean to get started again, it just happened. But as you can see, no harm befell me.”

“This time,” he growled. “No harm befell you this time. I cannot believe you left without at least informing me. Do you
want
to be captured by our enemy? They would not hesitate to use you, hurt you.” With every word, his anger became more pronounced.

“I was careful. Besides, I want to do my part. I want you safe and if I have to take a risk now and then to ensure that you are, I will.”

“Yes, but now you risk our baby.”

Abject hurt contorted her features. “I love this child and would never place her in unnecessary jeopardy. But just so you know, you're as important to me as our baby. Your safety is vital. And in case you've forgotten, we're connected. You die, I die.”

He shuddered at the reminder.

“I disguised myself before I took my walk just in case, but I didn't actually see anyone who looked like a Hunter. No visible wrist tattoos, anyway. And if it makes you feel any better, the chatter I heard was from a few hours ago.”

Maddox buried his head in her hair. “I cannot lose you. I would die a more painful death than any that has come before.”

“I will not lose you, either. That's why I'm doing this.”

“Tell us what you heard,” Sabin commanded, then added, “Please,” when Maddox snarled at him. Temper, temper. Politeness was not a natural inclination for Sabin, and he had to work for it.

Her fingers curled around Maddox's wrists, holding on to him as if he were a precious treasure. “You were right,” she told Sabin. “There are indeed Hunters. They're looking for you. Or rather, they
were
looking for you.”

She'd heard that, too, had she? He tried not to smirk at Maddox, but he failed.
See,
he projected.
Something needs to be done about them. War is the only way.

You were wrong,
Doubt added, the words slithering into Maddox's mind, Sabin knew.
You're always wrong.

“Sabin,” Maddox barked.

“Sorry.” The demon couldn't help itself, and Sabin could not always stop it from inflicting doubts on others. When an opportunity presented itself, the demon took it. Every damn time.
This is why I can't have a woman of my own.

“I was able to isolate around twelve different voices. They're swarming into Buda,” Ashlyn said, “because they just learned where the second artifact is. They're on their way to get it.”

D
ANIKA AND
R
EYES FINALLY
reached the fortress, leaving dusk behind. They hadn't kissed or even touched since departing from the club. They hadn't spoken, either. Reyes wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. What was she thinking?

Silence continued to cloak them, even when they strode inside his bedroom. Never turning his back on Danika, he closed and locked the door. She didn't face him. He leaned against it, the wood's coolness seeping past his torn shirt and into his skin. Thankfully Pain had receded to the back of his mind, temporarily sated from his battle with the Hunters, and was making no demands.

Danika stood in front of the bed, staring down at the black sheets. With trepidation? With anticipation?

Reyes hoped the latter. The Hunters had cut him so deeply and in so many places, he probably needed stitches on every limb. He'd chosen not to doctor himself, however. The pain was sublime, throbbing through him, making him quake with pleasurable sensations. He could finally be with this woman, and she wouldn't have to hurt him. He would be so gentle with her, he wouldn't allow himself to worry about corrupting her.

“Nervous?” he asked.

A moment passed before she responded. “No.”

Liar. He didn't grin, though his lips twitched upward. “Shall we talk first?” Even offering a reprieve was difficult for him. He craved her in his bed, naked and straining against him.

“No. No talking.”

His brow furrowed, and he frowned. She'd sounded so…determined. Why did she not want to talk with him?
Does it matter? You did not wish to talk with her, either.

Slowly she turned, finally facing him. As always, the sight of her angel face stole the air from his lungs. Such beauty in such a small package, he thought. A gift for her, perhaps, but most definitely a curse for him. He couldn't look away. Would happily have died then and there, just to have her image be the last to grace his sight.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glittering brightly, emerald framed by black lashes. Up and down her chest moved, faster and faster, as if she couldn't quite catch her breath.

“We are to make love in silence?” he asked her. His hands itched to touch her. To cup her breasts, thumb her hard little nipples. His mouth watered for a taste of her. He'd bite her, this time. He'd—no. He would be gentle, he reminded himself.

Her eyes stretched wide. “We aren't making love.”

“Then what are we doing?” he demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

“We're having sex.” She raised her chin and braced her feet apart, the very picture of a warrior before battle. “And yes, silence will be…good.”

Again, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “Why?”

“I want your body, not your life story,” was all she said, but
I want to forget you afterward
hung in the air like the sword of Damocles, ready to fall and cut him into a thousand pieces.

He scowled. Once she had told him she knew nothing about him; she had
wanted
to know more. What had changed?

A trick, perhaps, to manipulate him into talking about his friends?

No. No, he didn't think so. His head tilted to the side as he studied her more closely. Her jaw was set in stone, her shoulders squared. The pinkish hue in her cheeks was fading.

She reached up, hands shaking, and gripped the hem of her T-shirt. She began to raise it, revealing inch after inch of creamy skin. Her stomach was flat, her navel delicate and made for his tongue.

He was in front of her a second later, his hands covering hers and stopping her progress. The shirt's material covered her face, blocking her features from his greedy view. She gasped as his stomach brushed hers.

“You do not want to want me,” he breathed into her ear. The shirt prevented his breath from caressing her, but she shivered anyway. “You want to keep me at a distance, I think.”

“Can you blame me?” she asked, the words spoken on a trembling sigh. “Now, let me undress.”

“No, I can't blame you.” He dragged the shirt the rest of the way over her head and tossed it aside.

The shoulder-length mass of her sunshine hair tumbled down, framing her face. She wore a black lace bra—one he'd purchased for her—and her breasts swelled from the top. He swallowed, wondering if she wore the matching panties.

Gaze glued to his, she gripped the hem of his tattered shirt and began to lift. He raised his arms. Ultimately, she had to stand on her tiptoes and he had to lean over to remove it. When he straightened, she uttered another of those heated gasps.

“So strong.” She reached out with a shaky hand and traced her fingers over one of his wounds.

At the first brush, he closed his eyes in surrender. There was such sweet, sweet pain in having an injury stroked.

“When did you get this?” she asked.

“I thought you craved silence?”

She sighed.

“A little while ago,” he said.

“From the Hunters?”

“Yes.”

Her lips compressed into a thin line. “At least it's healing.”

Healing? Damn. If any of his injuries decided to repair themselves before he'd taken Danika, he would pour salt into them or reopen them himself. Nothing would stop him from having this woman. Gently. Sweetly. The way he'd always dreamed of taking a woman but had never been able.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked, and then she laughed without humor. “Never mind. Just…kiss me. Take me to bed.”

Bed. Yes, oh, yes. He opened his eyes and stared down at her. One step forward. Two. He backed her into the mattress. Her legs hit, and she tumbled down. Licking her lips, watching him, she scooted backward.

“Take off your jeans,” he commanded hoarsely.

She eased to her back and raised her hips. Unfasten. Unzip. Down, down the denim shimmied. Oh, sweet gods, she'd worn the matching panties. They were like a violent storm cloud against her creamy skin. Hopefully wet.

His cock strained, desperate for her. Suddenly Pain seemed to stretch awake in his mind, yawning, purring. He gnashed his molars.

“Your turn,” Danika said, propping her weight onto her elbows.

Had he thought her lovely before? His chest actually hurt as he looked at her just then. She was Aphrodite in the flesh. She was seduction incarnate. She was…his.

Not yet
…
Not just yet
…She wanted him to bed her, she didn't want to get to know him. He would not allow one without the other.

“You mentioned my life story. Well, I spent several years locked inside a cell,” he said, “a willing prisoner. Not because of the Hunters but because I could not control my intense need to give and receive pain.”

“I don't think—”

“Back then, in ancient Greece, I battled Hunters and I destroyed cities. Screams were my sustenance. After one of my friends was killed, a man I had once laughed with and fought beside, the truth of what I was began to sink in.”

“I don't want to hear this.” She shook her head, those silky locks dancing at her temples.

“I knew I could not learn to control my beast when temptation lurked in every corner. Everyone who smiled, everyone who enjoyed, I wanted to eradicate. In my demon-soaked mind, they had no reason to experience joy.”

“Reyes.”

“So I asked Lucien to lock me up. Of all of us, he was the one who first gained control of his demon. He did not want to, but he agreed. During those months of confinement, I learned to cut myself whenever the need for pain arose. Eventually, I trained myself to crave only that, my own pain. My demon craved it, too, the rest nearly forgotten.” If only confinement worked on Aeron….

“Stop. Please, just stop.”

“Why? Because knowing I suffered makes me seem more human? Because you do not want to think of me as anything more than a demon? Because one day, when we've parted, you hope to forget I ever existed?” The last was uttered in a feral snarl.

“Yes!” she shouted, jolting upright. Her chest rose and fell, fast and shallow. “Yes, okay. Yes. I shouldn't desire you, but I do. I can't get you out of my mind, even though I should be thinking about a thousand other things. We have no future. I mean, really. One of your friends wants to kill me and everyone I love. You live a life of war and all I crave is peace.”

True. All that she'd said was true. “Yet here you are, in my bed.”
And here I am, unable to let you go.

“Yes.” Both her voice and her expression softened. “I'm trusting you. With my family. My body. Don't make our eventual parting any worse for me. Please.”

Please.
The word echoed in his mind. Reyes met her heated gaze with his own. For the briefest of moments, he was transported to the heavens. To the past. In his mind, he saw himself standing beside Aeron, Torin, Paris and Galen.

Galen. Until Danika, Reyes had not thought of Galen in centuries. Galen had pulsed with life; his mere presence somehow made them feel stronger, better. Reyes hadn't known the warrior plotted against them every time their backs were turned.

And seeing the image of his carefree friends, so unburdened then by life and sins and suffering, he had to fight the urge to shout a warning he knew they would not hear.

They'd been celebrating that day, he recalled. The night before, a horde of Gorgons had sneaked inside Zeus's chamber, intending to awaken the god and turn him to stone. A single glance would have done it, and the king would have been unprepared, too surprised to cast his gaze downward in time.

Paris, ever the ladies' man, had been sleeping with one of the females—blindfolded, of course, to prevent turning to stone. The besotted female had blurted out her sisters' plans, and Paris had immediately alerted the Guard. Together, they'd ambushed the Gorgons, defeating them in minutes and with hardly any bloodshed.

We are unbeatable,
Galen said proudly.

Torin nodded in agreement.
Is it wrong that I wanted to take one of those snake-headed females as my prisoner?

Reyes rolled his eyes.
You are as bad as Paris. The thought of being bitten and clawed during sex…
He shuddered.

You just haven't been bitten the right way,
Paris said with a grin.

I prefer my women sweet and tender, thanks,
Aeron countered.

“Reyes,” Danika said, drawing him back to the present.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
If I had only known what awaited me.
“I want to give you anything and everything you ask for, Danika.”

Relieved, she sagged against the mattress. “Thank you.”

“But making myself forgettable for you,” he finished, “I cannot do. You're going to haunt my dreams for all of eternity. I have to know I meant something to you.”

“You do,” she said, tortured. Her gaze dropped to her legs as she drew up her knees. “And that's the problem.”

“Resist me if you must, but do it later. After. I'll even help you. Here, now, give me everything.” He unsnapped his jeans, pushed them down and kicked them off. Except for his weapons, he was bare underneath. “Look at me.”

She did, her eyes going straight to his erection…staying. A tremor slithered down her spine.

“I am cruel and I am selfish, but this need I have inside me, this need for you and no other, is stronger than anything else I've ever encountered. I doubt two years of lockup would dull it in the slightest.”

“I—I don't know how to respond to that.”

“Then don't.” He didn't need to hear her confirm that he'd made an impact on her and that her defenses were crumbling. The rosy flush darkening and spreading over her entire body told him plenty. “Just give. Take.”

One by one, he discarded his blades. Only when he was stripped to his skin, nothing between them, did he climb onto the bed. Her pupils dilated as she watched him, and goose bumps spread over her, joining the flush.

He trapped her feet between his knees and reached up, his fingers curling around the waist of her panties. Slowly, so slowly, he dragged them down, revealing the paradise between her legs.

She didn't try to stop him. No, she encouraged him, raising her hips to allow an easier glide. He fisted the material, its dampness teasing his palm as his gaze drank her in. Her thighs were lean, the small patch of hair guarding her femininity as sunny as the hair on her head. Tiny as she was, her legs seemed to stretch for miles.

“Exquisite,” he told her.

“Th-thank you.”

He leaned down and braced his palms beside her hips. “Shall I continue?”

“Yes.” A plea, desperate and needy.

His cock jerked in reaction. “I've dreamed of this moment, of having you.” He lifted one of her legs and placed a soft kiss upon her ankle. The skin was smooth, cold chased away by heat at the moment of contact.