The Darkest Lie (11 page)

          But the memories of that place had never faded. The heat, the screams, the rank odors of sulfur and rotting flesh that permeated the air. Disgusting. Add in the vile thoughts of the demons still living there and the tormented thoughts of the souls suffering there, and it was a new kind of hell for Amun.

          What about Baden? he asked. Another of Aeron's pressing burdens.

          Aeron arched a black brow. "You know about that, too. Great."

          Baden. Once their best friend. But thousands of years ago, Hunters had beheaded him. Unlike Aeron, he hadn't been given a second chance at life. He hadn't done anything to deserve one, apparently. But Aeron, who had recently spent a little time in the afterlife, had seen him. Talked to him.

          Baden was out there. Baden could be freed, returned to them like Aeron. They just had to find a way to convince any deity who would listen to bring him back to life.

          Aeron had kept this information to himself. But then, that was a habit they shared. Aeron liked to weigh all the facts, find any possible solutions, before mentioning a potential problem to the others. That had never been more evident than now. Aeron no longer suffered but all the others did, and he didn't want to add to their suffering until he could offer a resolution.

          "Once Legion is safe," Aeron said, "I'll tell the others about Baden. We can then concentrate on freeing him. But Legion has to come first. She's suffering. He is not."

          And the Hunters? The artifacts? Pandora's box? Will you forget those? Now that you're without a demon, they must not concern you anymore.

          A scowl darkened Aeron's face, shadows seeming to seep from his eyes. "You're wrong. They concern me greatly. I don't want to watch my best friends die because I allowed my enemy to find the artifacts. I don't want to watch my best friends die because I wasn't there to protect them. But I love Legion, too. She's being tortured down there and I can't stand it. I have to free her, or I'll be no good to anyone."

          Even after what she did to you?

          "Yes," Aeron replied without hesitation.

          Olivia nodded. "Yes. Me, too."

          Amun expected such forgiveness from Olivia. She was an angel and, as he'd already realized, didn't know how to hate. She couldn't even hold on to a good anger. But Aeron? Forgiving a female for making a bargain with the devil, nearly ruining his life by almost killing his angel? Shocking. But maybe forgiveness came more easily to him now that he was without his demon's need for vengeance.

          "The sooner we find her, the sooner we free Baden, and the sooner I can concentrate on the artifacts and the Hunters," Aeron added.

          Many reasons to go, yes, but none overshadowed Amun's reasons for staying behind. Are you asking anyone else to go with you?

          The back of Aeron's head banged against the tree, once, twice, and he peered up at the ocean of sky. "No. I hated even asking you. I don't want to leave the fortress unprotected or task the warriors with something else to do."

          So, why me? Aeron had never thought the answer outright, and Amun had never pulled it from his friend's mind, so he honestly didn't know. The other warriors were just as strong as he was, just as skilled at warring and killing.

          "Secrets," Olivia said with a sad little sigh. "Your demon will be able to learn where Legion is being held."

          That made sense, and Amun nearly moaned. Because it meant they needed him specifically. Not for his brawn, but for his demon. No one else would do. How, then, could he tell them no? He couldn't.

          He scrubbed a hand down his suddenly tired face. Though everything and everyone inside him began screaming in protest, making him wince, he nodded. If I agree to do this, you'll have to ask one more. To take Olivia's place and better their odds of success. "Who?"

          William.

          William was an immortal of some sort, though none of them knew exactly what he was. The man liked to think of himself as a sex god, that much Amun knew. He'd sleep with anyone--and had. A man of few standards, no question. But he loved fighting almost as much as he loved sex, and he wasn't possessed by a demon. Therefore, the darkness of the underworld wouldn't frighten him. And if Amun fell as he suspected he would, there would be someone there to help Aeron leave.

          "I will," Aeron said. "I'll ask him."

          Amun sighed, as sad as Olivia had been. Then count me in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

          THE BLOOD... the girl saw it in her mind, dripping, flowing, rushing. The screams...she heard them in her ears, agonized, evil. The darkness...it surrounded her, closing in tighter and tighter, nearly suffocating her.

          How long this had been going on, she didn't know. Time had ceased to exist for her. There was only pain and chaos. And fire. Oh, God, the fire. She could smell the fumes, the scent of rotting bodies and brimstone.

          Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, scalding her cheeks. She was lying in a bed, knees drawn up to her chest. Over and over she shivered from cold, and yet, she was still burning up inside. Someone had carried her here. She couldn't remember who. She only knew that the moment he had set her down, she had attacked him, unable to help herself. So badly she'd wanted to bathe in his blood. She'd wanted to hear his scream join all the others.

          If he'd survived, she didn't know. Didn't care. Would have actually welcomed another victim, and she hated herself for it.

          "How are you today, pet?"

          The words were barely audible through the screams, but she understood them all the same. And she didn't have to open her eyes to know who now stood beside her bed. Cronus. King of the gods...her master.

          Can't hurt him. Can't allow myself to hurt him. He would punish her. Again.

          Hurt him, another beguiling voice whispered through her head. It would feel so good.

          Can't. Any more pain, and she would crumble. Forever lost.

          Once she'd been known as Sienna Blackstone. Once, she'd been human. Once, she'd been a Hunter. Then she'd fallen for Paris, keeper of Promiscuity, and slept with him to strengthen him. Big mistake. The empowered warrior had decided to use her--as a shield. He'd abducted her just as she'd once abducted him, allowing her own people to gun her down.

          At the time, she hadn't thought it was possible to feel such agony. Liking a man, only to discover he couldn't care less about you. Bullets, slicing into flesh. Life, slipping away. She laughed bitterly now. How foolish she'd been. That hadn't been agony. That had been a massage. This was agony.

          Her back felt as if it had been dipped in acid and salt. Two hard things were growing between her shoulder blades, sprouting from the ruined flesh. Horns, perhaps. Or maybe wings. Every so often, she thought she felt them flutter.

          "Answer me. Now."

          Punish, that beguiling voice commanded. Take all that he claims as his, and then take his head.

          Though her head was already filled with more evil than she could bear, new images began taking residence. She saw all the things Cronus had stolen over the centuries: artifacts, power, women. She saw all the lives he'd taken--and exactly how he'd taken them. So many. Oh, there were so many lives cut short because of his greed. Not just his enemies, but his own people. Even humans. Anyone who had gotten in his way. Blood flowed, and the screams reached a new crescendo.

          Oh, God. Moaning, she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. Had she known what awaited her in the afterlife, had she known what kind of person he truly was, she would not have allowed him to lead her to the heavens.

          She would have stayed with Paris. A man she'd thought she hated with every fiber of her being.

          That hatred for him must have anchored her to his side, because her spirit had followed him for several days after her body died. He hadn't been able to see her, hadn't sensed her in any way. She'd watched as he'd given her a warrior's funeral; that had surprised her. She'd watched as he'd cried for her; that had confused her. She'd watched as he'd mourned for her; that had, unexpectedly, touched her.

          Her anger with him had begun to drain. She'd thought: even though he used me, he must have truly cared about me. And if he was capable of caring, he must not be the evil creature she'd been led to believe.

          But then his body had begun to weaken and Sienna had been forgotten. To regain his strength, he'd slept with some random stranger. And then another. And another. He hadn't cared about a single one of them. He hadn't cared that they'd wanted more from him than a mere bedding. He'd walked away afterward and never looked back. Just as he would have done to her if she hadn't captured him for her boss.

          Her anger had returned, hotter than before.

          That's when Cronus had appeared before her. "Come with me," he'd said, "and you will live again."

          "I don't want to live again." The life she'd led had not been the stuff of dreams. After her younger sister was abducted from her home, her father and mother had checked out. They'd wanted nothing to do with anything, even their remaining child. Fighting the Lords of the Underworld had become Sienna's cause, her sole purpose. There would be no evil in the world, no more abductions, if Pandora's demons were destroyed, she'd been told.

          Cronus, though, had not given up.

          "You can avenge your death, then," he'd replied.

          "I don't want to do that, either." She'd just wanted to pass quietly into the afterlife, the world and its inhabitants forgotten. Perhaps there she would have found her sister.

          "You don't know what you want. But I can see your desires in your eyes, whether you admit them or not. You're desperate for a second chance. You want what you were denied. A family. Someone to protect you, to cherish you. Someone to love you."

          She'd swallowed the lump in her throat. "And how will I get that with you?"

          "I'm creating an army. A holy army of warriors the likes of which you have never seen. You can be a part of that."

          That's how he planned to find someone to protect, cherish and love her? "No, thank you."

          "I cannot do this without you."

          Why? She was too frail to win a physical altercation and had always been a little too timid to call anyone on their shit. That's why Dean Stefano, her boss, had always used her in the office, researching demon lore. She'd been flabbergasted when he'd asked her to seduce Paris and at first, she'd said no.

          Then she'd seen his picture. No man was more exquisite, sensual in ways no mortal could ever hope to be. Her heart had raced and her palms had actually sweated, desperate to touch him. As plain as she was, no one like him had ever paid her any notice. As beautiful as he was, she hadn't understood how he could house such evil.

          The desire to meet him, to see that evil for herself, had become an obsession. So she'd finally said yes. She'd arranged an "accidental" meeting in Athens. He'd been interested in her, which had made her feel special. She almost hadn't drugged him, had almost sent him on his way. But then she'd noticed the red tint bleeding into his eyes, glowing, broadcasting his malevolence for the entire world to see. There'd been no denying his origins then. He was evil, even though he kissed like an angel. And maybe, just maybe, if she helped destroy him, the world really would become a better place to live. Maybe child abductions really would end. So she'd done it. She'd drugged him.

          And she had died for her efforts.

          And, terribly enough, what did she regret most? Not enjoying him, fully, completely. Just the two of them, worries forgotten. What came in only a distant second? Not killing him.

          "Join me," Cronus had added, "and you'll meet Paris again. I swear it. He'll be yours to do with as you please."

          His words were proof that he did indeed know what she wanted, whether she would admit it aloud or not. See Paris again? Have the warrior at her mercy? Yes! And yet, it hadn't been enough. "No."

          "But more than that," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "I will ensure you see your sister again."

          She'd nearly grabbed him and shook him, so great was her shock. "You know where she is?"

          "Yes."

          "And she's alive?"

          "Yes."

          Thank God. Thank God, thank God, thank God. "Then yes," she'd said without hesitation. "Yes, I will help you. Now. Hurry. Please."

          "You are saying that you will be mine, my soldier. Yes?"

          "Yes. If you take me to my sister."

          "I will. One day."

          Her sense of urgency intensified. "Why not now?"

          "Your mission comes first. Do you agree?"

          No. But she'd said, "Yes." Anything to see her precious Skye again.

          "Then it is done." He'd grinned slowly, satisfaction radiating from him, and whisked her to this palace in the heavens.

          Had she gotten to see her sister yet? No. Had he trained her to fight? No. Had he sent her on that mission, whatever it was? Again, no. He'd simply kept her here, alone unless he visited or summoned her, with nothing to do but think. And hate.

          She'd tried to leave, but she couldn't. She was bound to Cronus in a way she still didn't understand. A way she couldn't refute or disobey. Whatever he asked of her, she did, compelled by a force she could not defeat. Even though she'd tried to do so, countless times.

          "I asked you a question," Cronus said now, drawing her from her memories and straight back to the pain pulverizing her. "How are you?"

          "Worse." A whimper.

          He sighed. "I had hoped otherwise, for I'm eager to use you."

          "What's wrong with me?"

          "Oh, did I forget to tell you?" He laughed, the sound carefree. "You now carry the demon of Wrath inside you."

          Everything inside her stilled. The screams. Her spirit's heartbeat. Even the darkness ceased swirling. The demon of Wrath was...inside her?

          No. No, no, no! She was not one of them. Couldn't be one of them. "You're lying. You have to be lying."

          "Hardly. It's trying to make itself at home in your mind, and its wings are sprouting from your back."

          Panic built, spread. Wings, he'd said. Exactly as she'd suspected.

          "I'm sure you can hear its thoughts by now, urging you to do things you wouldn't normally want to do."

          Oh. God. He had. He'd truly done it. He'd paired her with a demon. Noooo! This time, the word was a wail inside her. He'd made her the very thing she'd fought against. The very thing she'd hoped to destroy.

          A sob burst from her. "You bastard! You've cursed me!"

          He huffed and puffed, insulted. "How dare you take that tone with me? I've blessed you. How could you fight for me as a mere human, a lost soul? The answer is simple. You could not. And so I gave you a way to do so."

          The tears streaming from her eyes burned as if they were carving grooves into her cheeks. "You ruined me in the process."

          "One day you will thank me," he said confidently.

          "No. No. One day I'll kill you for this." A vow.

          Heavy silence slithered between them, a hungry snake ready for its meal. "You threaten me even though I brought you a present." He tsked. "Someone you were dying to see." Skye?

          Not daring to breathe, Sienna forced her eyelids open, and through the blur of her vision she saw that there really was a female standing next to the god king. The girl reached his shoulders, had a mane of dark hair like Sienna's own and olive skin. Her facial features were obscured by shadows, but that didn't stop Sienna's heart from thundering inside her chest.

          Trembling, Sienna reached out. "Sister?"

          There was a rustle of clothing as the pair moved away from her. "You don't deserve a present today, pet. Therefore, you will not get one."

          "Skye!"

          Silence. The two turned away and marched off. The girl never uttered a word of protest.

          "Skye!" she shouted again. "Skye! Come back. Talk to me." The last choked from her, tangling up in the hard knot forming in her throat.

          Again, there was no response.

          Sienna collapsed against her bed, new sobs racking her. How could Cronus have done this to her? How could he be so cruel?

          He must pay. He must suffer.

          The deep voice whisked through her head, and she jerked in shock and revulsion. Shut up, shut up, shut up. I know what you are. I hate you.

          The insult had no effect. He must pay. He must suffer as you suffer.

          Expecting the voice this time, she didn't jerk. She stilled. She even began to ponder. The demon of Wrath was inside her. And helpless and sick as she was, there was nothing she could do about that. Yet. So why not use it? Just once? Just to balance the scales and make things right?

          "H-how? How do I make him suffer as I now suffer?" Oh, God. She was talking to a demon. Stop! It was weird and wrong...yet oddly freeing. There would be no stopping. Cronus had to pay for this.

          You must steal that which he values most.

          "And that is?" Whatever the answer, she would do as the demon suggested and steal it. She would not hesitate. Cronus had thrown her into this terrible fire; he could burn with her. "His wife? His children?"

          His power.

          "All right." Another vow. But just how was she supposed to steal power from a god?

          He will pay. He will suffer.

          Yes. Gradually, her tears dried and her heartbeat calmed. The lump in her throat dissolved. Cold seeped through her, filling her up, consuming her. "He will pay. He will suffer."

          "VISIT HELL? No damn way."

          Amun stood in front of the large plasma screen in the entertainment room, facing William. This had been the only way to get the man's attention. Whenever Amun had knocked on William's bedroom door, he'd been told to go away. Whenever he'd followed William into town, the warrior had ignored him as he plundered his way through the female population, one--or two--at a time. Sometimes the bastard had even done his business with Amun standing there.