Lords of the Underworld Bundle (111 page)

BOOK: Lords of the Underworld Bundle
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Pain grunted an agreement.

“She's stronger than I ever knew,” Ginger continued, glancing at the stacks of art. “A better painter, too. I mean, I knew she was good, but I had no idea.”

Tears poured from Tinka's green eyes, eyes so very much like Danika's his heart wanted to explode every time he looked into them. “I can't believe I shamed my daughter into hiding these in storage. They should be in a gallery. They're hauntingly lovely, aren't they?”

Like Danika herself. “Yes. They are.”

Mallory pulled a plastic bag from her purse, opened it and offered half of a peanut-butter sandwich to him. “Before we left, your friend Anya told us we had to help you keep your strength up.”

He accepted it gratefully and had it consumed in two bites, liking the thoughtfulness of the woman's gesture. Danika's family—not to mention Anya herself—seemed to have forgiven him for his crimes against them. “When Danika is returned to us, she will find joy in her paintings. This I swear to you.”

“I so wanted to hate you,” Ginger said on a sigh.

His lips twitched. Her tart tongue amused him, reminding him of Danika.

Would everything remind him of Danika? he wondered then. He didn't mind the reminders, he loved them, but many more and he might break down, give in to the misery of being without his woman.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Tinka asked, suddenly beside him.

“Ask Mallory,” was all he said, unwilling to cease his search to explain. He would
not
give up. If necessary, his last breath would be expended finding Danika.

“Look for anything involving Cronus, King of the Titans, and set it aside for Reyes to study. And before you ask, Cronus is tall, with thick silver hair and a beard, and always wears a white toga.”

One of the portraits caught his eye, a colorful depiction of angels and demons, life and death, blood and smiles. Like Ginger, he was amazed by what she had seen in her young life. Amazed even more that she had thrived despite her burden, emerging as the determined yet gentle warrioress he knew.

A few more flips, and he found four paintings of Cronus. His heart rate sped up. In some, the god paced the corridors of a prison cell, flames licking the walls, smoke filling the air. In others, he fought his way free, killing with expert precision, using his scythe, which stretched and stretched and stretched miles past its usual length to take the heads of his enemies.

Why had Cronus not carried the scythe when he'd visited Reyes? Afraid he would use it and regret it? If that were the case—which Reyes seriously doubted—it would mean Cronus needed him alive. Perhaps the king had traded it for something. Danika's life? Anya had once mentioned that even the gods were bound by the laws of give-and-take, sow-and-reap.

Reyes frowned, pushing the thoughts from his mind. For now. They weren't as important as saving his woman. He moved to another stack of canvases, the first of Cronus cornering a group of trembling gods and backing them into the very cell he himself had occupied. Gods Reyes had once guarded. Seeing them now, he felt a pang of forgotten loyalty. Cronus's expression was one of cold determination. It was obvious he wanted to kill them, but wanted them to suffer the same fate he had even more.

For hours more, Reyes pored over the artwork. The women supplied him with water and snacks but remained silent, as if sensing his need to focus. Finally, he had examined every single canvas.

He hadn't found the one he wanted—had Danika destroyed it? Hidden it elsewhere?—but he had learned some valuable information and began ticking each fact off in his mind.

Cronus hated confinement. Would do anything to avoid it.

He preferred revenge over absolute safety, for never again could the Greek gods challenge him for the heavenly throne if Cronus had killed them. Instead, he'd locked them away, taking Anya's greatest treasure to ensure they stayed where they belonged.

His scythe could elongate as surely as Reyes's nails.

All of that, on top of the first painting Reyes had seen…his mouth fell open as the answer finally, blessedly shifted into place. He jumped to his feet, having trouble catching his breath. Grinning for the first time in days.

“What?” the women asked in unison.

“I know what I have to do.” Close, he was so close. All he had to do now was find a way into heaven.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“I
MISS YOU SO MUCH
, angel.”

A long while passed, but there was no response.

Reyes lay on top of his bed. He had been there for hours, perhaps an entire day. He'd lost track of time. Over and over, he'd attempted to connect with Danika on the mental plane. She was up there, in heaven. She was a portal, and she'd propelled him there twice. It was reasonable to think she could do so again. The problem was that this time there could be no penetration to pave the way. Reyes could only hope their joinings had forged an emotional and spiritual bond strong enough to substitute for a physical coupling.

“I'm lost without you.”

We're lost,
the demon piped up.


We're
lost without you. Your family wants you back as desperately as I do. I've come to love them, for they helped shape you into the woman you are. One with such strength and courage.”

Still nothing.

“Do you carry our child, Danika? If not, I want nothing more than to give you my baby, watch your belly grow.”

Clearly, impending motherhood wasn't the key, either. He swallowed. “Danika,” he growled. “Talk to me. Now. I'm angry, Danika.”
Not with you, never you.
But he continued darkly, “Soon I'll be forced to cut myself. I'll bleed. And you won't be here to patch me up and make me feel better. I—”

Reyes?

Reyes blinked open his eyes. That had been Danika's voice, whispering through his mind. It had worked. It had really worked! Sweat beaded all over his skin, relief and joy spearing him. Pain lit up inside his mind like a demonic Christmas tree. “Danika? Talk to me again.”

Oh, my God. Is that you? Really you? I've dreamed of you and prayed for you and begged for you.

“I'm here, I'm here.” Tears burned in his eyes, scalding his irises. “I need you to pull me to you, angel.”

How?
The word rushed from her, as desperate as he felt.

“Picture me in your mind. Picture your hands reaching for me, wrapping around me. You can do it. I know you can.”
This has to work. Please let this work.
“You're a portal. You can—”

Something cold pushed inside him. Ice crystallized in his veins, but he didn't move. Pain was grasping for her, but couldn't seem to latch on. “I can feel you.”

And I you, but…

The sound of her frustration echoed in his mind. “What's wrong, angel?”

I can't get to your spirit
.
I'm grasping air, nothing but air.

“Grab hold of my physical body, then.” He didn't even have to finish the sentence before fingers, ghostly but firm, clutched his arms—just as cold, but solid—and jerked so powerfully he was lifted off the bed and through the ceiling. The plaster cracked and gave way, falling beneath him like rain.

He slammed into another ceiling, thought he saw Maddox rolling from his bed and reaching for a blade, a naked Ashlyn gasping. Reyes was unable to hold back a grimace.

Stop?
Danika asked, his journey already slowing.

“No, no! Keep going, angel. Keep pulling. No matter what sounds I make, keeping tugging me to you.”

He broke through the roof and was suddenly surrounded by night sky. Stars whizzed past him like blasts of lightning. He was weightless…soaring…then clouds engulfed him, zooming past, brushing his skin and leaving a moist sheen.

The moon seemed to grow bigger, more golden, so close he thought he could see a crater. And then, suddenly, he broke through some sort of invisible shield, the air around him warming, turning from black to shining azure in a heartbeat. The clouds became clusters of diamonds and Reyes could see golden columns flanking a winding emerald road.

His breath caught in his throat. Heaven, he realized. He was actually in heaven, albeit as a man rather than a spirit.

Angels ascended in every direction, their wings gliding prettily. Several looked at him and gasped. Others frowned and hurried away. To warn someone? Who? Angels didn't answer to either the Titans or the Greeks. That much Reyes had learned from Danika's paintings. Reyes hadn't found a depiction of who they did answer to, though. He would have liked to have spoken to the…man? Woman? Would have requested the use of the heavenly army. Maybe one day…

He broke through another invisible wall, and then, finally, he was there, hovering beside Danika's dais. His knees gave out, and he crumpled beside her, one hand already in her hair, the other cupping her jaw. Her sunny hair was spread around her. Her skin was tinted slightly blue from the cold. She was draped in white like a winter queen. His queen.

“Gods, I missed you.” How he had longed for this day, this moment. “I will never let you go again.”

Reyes! You're really here. I can feel you. Feel your warmth
.

“Cold, angel?”

Very.

“Let me warm you.” He snuggled next to her, wrapping her body with his own and soaking up her chill. “I love you so much.”

I love you, too. I want to see you, but I can't break free of this…sleep. I can't jolt my body awake.

He placed a soft kiss on her lips, inhaling her sweetness. Part of him had despaired of ever doing this again. Ever holding her, breathing her in. “Do you know where Cronus is?”

Oh, yes. I always know somehow. He's with his counsel.

“Can you hear what they're discussing?”

I already know. It's what they always discuss. What to do about you. What to do about me. Where to look for his other artifacts.

“Can you bring him to us?”

Maybe. But why? I hate him. I hate dealing with him.

“Which makes me sorry to ask you to do so, but I am. Trust me, angel. Please.” He pressed another kiss against her lips, then along her jaw. “You are able to control a physical form with your mind. When Cronus arrives, wrap your mind around him and hold him as still as you can. We will not have long. He possesses a key inside his body that allows him to break free of any prison.”

A pause. Then,
All right. I'll try.

“If you can and if he has it, pry his scythe out of his hands. And know that whatever happens, I love you.” If they failed in this, Reyes knew Cronus would kill him. This was a direct challenge and no king would take it lightly or without issuing severe punishment.

“I've got him.” A moment passed. Another. Danika's small body stiffened underneath his hands.
He's angry. He doesn't have a scythe; he gave that to Chaos, who he put in charge of the Underworld when he imprisoned Hades, in exchange for a human soul. A female. Hunter. I think. He has Zeus's lightning bolt.

“Keep a firm grip on the bolt, angel. Take it from him if you can.”

He's almost here. Just a few seconds more…

Cronus stopped abruptly at the end of the dais. When he spotted Reyes, he growled low in his throat. Sparks exploded in his irises as the golden bolt was ripped from his grip and tossed aside.

From this moment on, Reyes knew every word out of his mouth, every emotion that colored his features, was critical. Everything counted. Forcing a casualness he didn't feel, he eased to one of his elbows. “So nice of you to join us.”

The god king's body shook, as if he were attempting to move. He had no luck. His arms stayed glued to his sides, his legs to the floor. “You will die for this, warrior.”

Slowly, Reyes kicked his legs over the dais and stood. “You're probably wondering what's going on.”

“I possess the All-key, demon. It destroys any shackle, opens any lock. You will not be able to hold me long.”

“I know.” His heart pounded like a war drum, but he smiled. “But you are not chained. You are simply being…momentarily embraced.”

The sound of teeth gnashing together echoed between them.

“You told me to summon you when I could prove my strength.” He paused, expression pointed. “Cronus, I summon you.”

“Do you think I will help you after this?” The king uttered a cruel laugh. “You are very foolish, Pain.”

How are you doing?
he projected to Danika.

I'm not sure how much longer I can hold him. He's very strong.

Fighting a rush of urgency, he walked to Cronus, stride unhurried. Expression still pointed. “You will free Danika and return her to earth. To me. Together, she and I will destroy any foe who thinks to take or use her.”

“You—”

Reyes cut him off. “In return, if she agrees, she will tell you of her dreams and the things she sees.”

“She will do that anyway,” Cronus snarled.

“Has she so far?” Reyes tried not to panic. “If you feel she is in danger, protect her. But do it from here, while she is with me.” He strode around Cronus, slid a dagger from the holder at his wrist, and placed the blade at the god's neck. The pulse fluttered wildly. “I could take your head, like in the painting. There is nothing you can do about it—but die.”

Utter stillness came over them. Such stillness Reyes could not even form the will to breathe. He waited…waited…

“I commend you, warrior,” Cronus said. “You have proven your strength.” It was more than a statement, it was a promise, a vow. A treaty between them.

At least, Reyes prayed it was so.

Shaking, scared to his bones, he lowered the blade. He strode back to Danika's side and clasped her hand. “Release him, angel.”
And we will see what happens.

A moment later, Cronus splayed his fingers. His bolt flew back into his hand, his eyes narrowing as he stepped toward Reyes. Part of Reyes expected him to attack. But he never did.

Suddenly Danika gasped out a breath and jerked upright. He turned his attention from the god king to his woman. She was blinking open her eyes, as if the light hurt them. When she saw him, she gasped again. “You're real.”

Her arms wound around his neck, his arms snaked around her waist and they embraced with shattering joy.

“You did it!” She laughed.


We
did it. Angel, I never want to be parted from you again.”

“Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.”

“My life is one of war, as you once reminded me. Can you live with that?” He pulled back, watery gaze locked with hers. He would leave the Lords if necessary, find a peaceful place to live, untainted by Hunters or vengeful gods.

“Are you kidding? War-happy older brothers are on my Christmas list. And hey. Demons—and I don't mean you!—now apparently want me as their pet. Not to mention that gods and Hunters are watching my every move. I'm a popular girl. Can you live with
that?

His lips lifted in a smile. “For you, anything.”

She returned the smile with one of her own. “Good.”

“You and me. Now. Always.”

“Save this touching reunion for later. What did you see in that painting?” Cronus asked, drawing their attention. “Who tried to take my head?”

Not tried to. Did. Reyes closed his eyes, gathered his strength. He'd hoped to avoid this topic for a while longer. Danika buried her head in the hollow of his neck, and he drew strength from her. “Do not strike at us in anger. Please.”

“You have my word,” the god replied impatiently. “Now tell me who took my head.”

“A decapitation?” Danika's arms tightened around Reyes. “I remember that painting. It was my only decapitation. And the culprit was the one they call Galen. Hope.”

Again, the patient stillness of a predator came over Cronus. The silence was so thick and heavy not even the flap of an angel's wing dared break it. “A demon. One of you,” he growled to Reyes.

“Our enemy, as well, I hasten to add.”

A long pause, finally a nod. “I wish to see it for myself.” The god's gaze shifted to Danika. “I have given you back to your man. All I ask in return is that you come to me if ever you learn of a threat against me.”

She nodded. “As long as I'm with Reyes, I'll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Warning received.” Though the god had paled, his lips curled into the semblance of a real smile. “I'll have to ensure you live forever and that you are never parted from the warrior. Won't I?”

 

“R
EYES
! R
EYES
! You won't believe it.” Danika rushed into Reyes's bedroom—no,
their
bedroom now—and stopped at the edge of the bed.

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