Lords of the Underworld Bundle (76 page)

Her. Danika Ford.
The girl.
Reyes had seen her only a few times, talked to her even less, but still, he craved her with every ounce of his being. Something he didn't understand. He was dark, she was light. He was anguish, she was innocence. He was wrong for her in every way, and yet, when she looked at him, his entire world felt right.

He knew beyond any doubt that the next time Aeron reached her, the warrior would savagely murder her. There would be no stopping him. Not again. Aeron had been ordered to kill Danika—and her mother and her sister and her grandmother—and was as helpless against the gods and their powers as everyone else. He would do it.

Reyes's temper flared and he had to glance at the rocks below to calm himself. Aeron had resisted the gods' dark task at first. He was—No. He
had been
a good man. But with every day that had passed, his demon had grown stronger, louder inside his head, until finally it overtook his mind. Now Aeron
was
the demon inside him. He was Wrath. He obeyed. He slew. Until those four women were destroyed, he would live only to hunt and kill.

Except, inside Danika's temporary apartment those fourteen days, four hours and fifty-six minutes ago, there had been a small part of Aeron that had known the crimes he committed. A small part that hated who and what he had become and desired death above all things. Desired an end to the torment. Why else would Aeron have asked Reyes to kill him?

And I refused him.
Reyes couldn't bring himself to hurt another warrior. Not again. Still. What kind of monster left his friend to suffer? A friend who had fought for him, killed for him? Loved him?

There had to be a way to save both Aeron and Danika, he thought for what, the thousandth time? He'd spent countless hours pondering, but still did not see a solution.

“Do you know where the girl is?” Lucien demanded, cutting into his musings.

“No, I do not.” Truth. “Aeron found her, I found Aeron, and that's when we fought. She ran. I didn't follow her afterward. She could be anywhere by now.” Best that way. He knew it, but he was still desperate to know her location, what she was doing…if she lived.

“Lucien, man, what's taking so damn long?”

At the second intrusion, Reyes finally turned. Paris, keeper of Promiscuity, now stood beside Lucien. Both men were facing him, eyes narrowed. Beams of crimson moonlight fell around them but not
on
them, as if those colored rays were afraid to touch the evil that even hell itself had been unable to contain.

Immortal that he was, Reyes saw them clearly, gaze cutting expertly through the darkness.

Paris was tall, the tallest of the group, with multicolored hair, pale otherworldly skin and eyes so pure a blue not even the most fanciful poetry would do them justice. Human women found him mesmerizing, irresistible, constantly throwing themselves at him and begging for a single touch. A heated kiss.

Lucien, though mated now, was not so lucky. Human women stayed far away from him. His face was hideously scarred, grotesque even, giving him the appearance of a bedtime monster found only in fairy tales. Didn't help that he had mismatched eyes—a brown one that saw the natural world and a blue one that saw the spiritual world—and both promised death would soon come knocking.

Both men were corded with the kind of muscle mass only hours of daily physical exertion could provide. They were loaded down with weapons and ready to fight at any moment of any day. They had to be.

“I don't recall deciding to throw a party up here,” Reyes said.

“Well, old age will wipe your memory like that,” Paris replied. “Remember, we need to discuss our next plan of action? Among other things.”

He sighed. The warriors did what they wanted, when they wanted, and no biting remark would stop them. He knew that firsthand, because he was the exact same way. “Why aren't you out researching Hydra's hiding places?”

Lush lips better suited for a woman thinned into a mulish line. Paris's eyes flashed the kind of agony Reyes usually saw staring back at him from his own mirror, replaced all too soon by the warrior's usual irreverence.

“Well?” Reyes prompted when there was no answer.

Finally his friend said, “Even immortals need coffee breaks.”

There was obviously more to the story than that, but Reyes didn't press.
I am not the only man with secrets.
Several weeks ago the warriors had split up to search for Hydra, a cranky half snake, half woman…
thing
who was guarding some of King Titan's favorite “toys.” Those toys—weapons, really—were supposed to lead them to Pandora's box. So far, they'd only managed to snag one. The Cage of Compulsion. They had only the barest of clues about the locations of the others.

“Yes, but when faced with extinction, coffee breaks lose their importance. And yes, I realize I need to do more for our cause. I will. After.”

Paris shrugged. “I'm doing what I can. The U.S. is a huge damn place and studying it from afar is almost as difficult as navigating its lands amidst all those people.” Each of the warriors had traveled to different countries to ferret out clues about the box, had no success and had quickly returned to learn what they could from here. Without switching his attention from Reyes, Paris asked Lucien, “Did he tell you where Aeron is or what?”

One of Lucien's black brows arched toward his hairline. “No. He didn't.”

“Told you he'd be difficult.” Paris frowned. “He hasn't been himself for weeks.”

Reyes could say the same about Paris, he realized as he noticed lines of fatigue and stress around the usually optimistic man's eyes. Perhaps he
should
press Paris for answers. Clearly, something had happened to his friend. Something major.

“We're running out of time, Reyes.” Accusation coated Paris's words. “Cooperate. Help us.”

“Hunters are more determined than ever to end us,” Lucien added. “Humans have discovered the Unspoken Ones' temple, limiting our access yet increasing that of the Hunters. We've only found one artifact out of four, but all are supposedly needed to locate the box.”

Reyes arched a brow, mimicking Lucien's earlier expression. “You think Aeron can help with any of that?”

“No, but we do not need discord among us. Nor do we need the distraction of worrying about him.”

“You can stop worrying,” Reyes said. “He doesn't want to be found. He hates who and what he is and he hates us seeing him like that. I swear to you, he's content where he is or I would not have left him.”

The door to the roof burst open and Sabin, keeper of Doubt himself, stalked through, dark hair dancing in the breeze.

“For fuck's sake,” the man said, throwing up his arms. “What the hell's going on?” He spotted Reyes and comprehension instantly dawned. He rolled his eyes. “Damn, Pain, you sure know how to spoil a meeting.”

“Why aren't you researching Rome?” Reyes asked him. Had everyone stopped working in the half hour he'd been on the roof?

Gideon, keeper of Lies, was close at Sabin's heels and prevented the warrior from answering with a sober, “My, my, how fun this looks.”

In Gideon speak, “fun” meant boring. The man couldn't utter a single truth without experiencing debilitating pain.
Pain, exactly what I need.
If only Reyes simply had to lie to receive it, how easy life would have been.

“Shouldn't you be helping Paris research the States?” Reyes demanded. He didn't bother waiting for an answer. “This is starting to feel like a damned circus. Can't a man do a little sulking and self-mutilation in private?”

“No,” Paris said, “he can't. Stop stalling, and stop changing the subject. Give us the answers we want or, I swear to the gods, I'm coming up there and laying a big wet one right on your mouth. My boy is hungry and looking to feed. He thinks you'll do just fine.”

Reyes didn't doubt Promiscuity wanted to bed him, but he knew Paris, and knew the warrior preferred women.

Get rid of them.
Reyes studied his newest guests. Gideon was dressed entirely in black, with hair dyed electric blue, eyebrows pierced in several places, the silver studs gleaming, and charcoal-rimmed eyelashes. Humans found him cut-your-heart-out scary.

Sabin wore all black, as well, but his brown hair, brown eyes and square, guileless face didn't make him look as if he would kill anyone who approached him—and laugh while doing it.

Both men were stubborn to their very cores.

“I need time to think,” Reyes said, hoping to play on their sympathy.

“There's nothing to think about,” Sabin replied. “You will do what's right because you're an honorable warrior.”

Aren't you? Perhaps you are as weak as the human girl you desire. Why else would you hurt those who love you like this?

Ouch, he thought, cringing. He
was
weak. He was—“Sabin,” Reyes growled as realization set in. “Stop sending doubts into my mind. I have enough of my own.”

The warrior shrugged sheepishly, not even trying to deny it. “Sorry.”

“Since our meeting is clearly
not
canceled,” Gideon said, “I'm
not
heading into the city,
not
visiting Club Destiny, and
not
screwing a few screams of pleasure out of a human female.” He disappeared behind the door a second later, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Don't cancel the meeting,” Reyes told the others. “Just…start without me.” He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze starting in the sky and falling slowly. Night's sinister canvas still waited, beckoning him to finally leap. “I'll be down in a few.”

Paris's lips twitched. “Down. Funny. Maybe I'll meet you down there and we can play Hide-the-Pancreas again. Forcing you to completely regenerate rather than simply heal always amuses me.”

Even Lucien grinned at that.

“Oh, oh, I wanna play! Can I hide his liver this time?”

At the sound of Anya's sultry voice, Reyes stifled a groan.

The white-haired goddess of Anarchy rushed through the doorway and threw herself into Lucien's now-open arms, her strawberry fragrance drifting on the ever-increasing wind. The pair cooed and cuddled like lovesick idiots for an eternity, lost in each other, the world around them forgotten.

It had taken Reyes a while to warm to the woman. She belonged in Olympus, home to the very beings he reviled—strike one. She left chaos in her wake, something as natural to her as breathing—strike two. But in the end, she had aided every warrior here, and had blessed Lucien with a happiness Reyes could only imagine.

Sabin coughed.

Paris whistled, though the sound of it was strained.

A pang of envy tightened Reyes's chest, squeezing at the heart that would soon stop beating. The heart he wished he did not possess. Without one, he would not have wanted Danika even though he knew he couldn't have her.

Didn't matter, he supposed. She would never want him in return. Most women did not appreciate his particular brand of pleasure and sweet, angelic Danika would hate it more than most. Even being near him had terrified her.

Perhaps, though, he could have won her over, seduced her, softened her toward him. Perhaps…but he refused to even try. The women he bedded always succumbed to his demon, became drunk on it, addicted to its predilections. They developed their own need for pain, lashing out and hurting everyone around them.

“Someone gather the others,” Reyes said, sarcasm dripping from the words and hopefully hiding his inner agony. “We'll make this a reunion.” What was Danika doing right this second? Who was she with? A man? Was she cuddling against him as Anya was cuddling against Lucien? Was she dead, buried as Aeron was buried? His hands curled into fists, his nails elongating into claws, slicing skin and stinging beautifully.

“You can shut it, Painie,” Anya said, facing him. She burrowed her head in the hollow of Lucien's neck, blue eyes peeking through thick strands of pale hair. “You're wasting Lucien's time, and that seriously irritates me.”

Bad things happened when Anya was irritated. Wars, natural disasters. Reyes's weapons left in the rain to rust. “He and I have already spoken. He has the information he desired.”

“Not all of it,” Lucien said.

“Tell him or I'll push you,” Anya said. “And then I swear to the gods—bastards that they are!—that while you're recovering and unable to stop me I'll find your little girlfriend and mail you one of her fingers.”

Just the thought caused a red haze to curtain his eyes. Danika…hurting…
Do not react
.
Do not allow fury to swamp you.
“You will not touch her.”

“Watch your tone,” Lucien told him, tightening his grip on his woman.