The Darkest Lie (12 page)

          Now, William was a captive audience. Because Amun had brought in reinforcements. Anya, the goddess of Anarchy. As powerful and vindictive as she was, she could make anyone do anything she wanted at any time. Especially William.

          The two were best friends and loved to torture each other. Which was why Anya had stolen some book that belonged to William. A very important book, apparently, and one the warrior needed to save himself from some curse. The two were always careful to keep those details buried behind inane thoughts while in Amun's presence.

          He could have sifted through their minds to gain the answers, of course, but hadn't. He didn't need any more secrets, thank you very much.

          He did know that whenever William acted like a "good boy," Anya returned a few pages to him. So when Anya challenged William to a game of "Guitar Hero," along with Gilly, a teen who now lived at the fortress, William had accepted. The three were positioned around the TV, where Anya had stated they would remain until Amun had said his piece. Or signed, as the case was.

          We need your help rescuing Legion, Amun began.

          "Sorry, but I have plans elsewhere," William said darkly. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, and I'll be gone for a few weeks."

          "What plans?" Gilly demanded, fingering the butterfly necklace Lucien had given her earlier. A necklace exactly like the one Amun, Anya and William also wore. They had been told to wear them always, to block their actions from the prying eyes of the gods. "Why didn't you tell me you were going somewhere?"

          Whoa. What was that? Pure possessiveness had layered her words.

          You're mine, he suddenly heard Gilly think. We belong together, not apart.

          O-kay. Amun massaged the back of his neck. He hadn't needed to know that.

          Expression tight, William tossed his drumsticks in the air, caught them and twirled them. "Doesn't matter why I kept you in the dark. I'm going and that's final."

          And wow. William usually joked about everything. He took nothing seriously. That he was in this temper...

          I've got to stop this, William thought. This can't go on.

          Good. That was good.

          "This trip is final, you said?" Anya arched a brow at her friend, her lips curling in challenge. She was engaged to Lucien, keeper of Death, and was one of the most beautiful females Amun had ever seen. Not surprisingly, Lucien indulged her every whim. "You didn't yet clear this trip with me, either."

          "You can't go without me," Gilly said.

          "I can and I will. And don't threaten me, Anya. This is one thing I will see through no matter what you do to my book."

          Her expression a storm cloud of fury, Gilly tossed her bass guitar on the floor. The plastic cracked. Exactly as she imagined her heart was doing. "You promised to protect me always. How can you protect me if you're gone?"

          She had straight brown hair and big, beautiful brown eyes. She was average height, but had more curves than any seventeen-year-old girl should have. And William was clearly doing his best not to look at her.

          He was failing. Must...stop. Why can't I make it stop?

          As though a book of his own opened up in Amun's mind, with everyone's secrets filling the pages, Amun suddenly knew exactly what was going on. Gilly thought she was in love with William. William was attracted to the girl and horrified because of it. She was too young for him.

          But while William could do nothing about his desire for Gilly, he could do something about his thirst for justice. Gilly had been terribly abused as a child, and William had tracked down her family with every intention of killing them in the slowest, most painful of ways. That's where he was going. To Nebraska to have his revenge. Wouldn't be difficult, either. The mother was a housewife and the stepfather a doctor.

          "I didn't lie to you. I will always protect you," William told her gently. He stood, reached for her, but realized what he was doing and dropped his arms to his sides. "You have to trust me on this."

          Amun clapped his hands for their attention. Help me help Aeron and then I'll help you with the girl's family.

          William's attention had already wandered. He hadn't watched Amun's hands and had no idea what Amun had said. As Anya realized what Amun was implying, her blue eyes widened. Rather than voice the words for him in English or Hungarian, allowing Gilly to understand, she spoke to William in the language of the gods. The rough sounds were music to Amun's ears, reminding him of the carefree years he'd spend in the heavens.

          "I don't need help," William growled in the same language. Stiff, he tangled a hand through hair the color of the darkest night. "Actually, I want to do this alone. And besides that, Legion annoyed me. I'm glad she's gone. I think it's safe to say I wouldn't rescue my own mother from hell. If I had one. I wouldn't even rescue Anya."

          "Thanks," the goddess said with a roll of her eyes. "But listen. Aeron isn't glad she's gone." Her voice was gentler than Amun had ever heard it. "Which means Lucien isn't glad. Which means I'm not glad."

          William remained unmoving. "Don't care."

          "Lucifer is afraid of you, Willy. In hell, you'll be able to do things and go places Aeron and Amun can't."

          For a moment, William's mind opened, gearing up to recall exactly why Lucifer feared him. But then he shut down the memory, which meant that Amun couldn't read it, not without digging, and that still wasn't something Amun wanted to do.

          "Again," William said with a shrug. "Don't care."

          Just as stubborn, Anya persisted. "William, think about what you're turning down. When you're with Gilly's family, you won't know what they're thinking, what they fear, what other terrible things they've done. But Amun will. He can tell you. And you can do more than hurt and kill them. You can terrorize them."

          Gilly tossed her hands in the air. "Will someone please speak in English and tell me what's going on? Someone? Please?"

          "No," Anya and William said in unison.

          "God! You guys are so lame. You want to act like I'm not here? Fine. I'll do you one better. I'll leave. I don't know why I hang around you, anyway." With that, Gilly flounced out of the room.

          Scowling, William jabbed one of his sticks through his drums. "Fine. Count me in, Amun. I'll go to hell with you and Aeron. Afterward, you'll help me deliver hell to my humans. Got it?"

          For better or worse, Amun nodded.

CHAPTER NINE

          WHEN SCARLET sat up and opened her eyes to a brand-new evening, she had no idea what to expect. After her "we had a son" bombshell, Gideon had basically gone into shock. He'd been silent, withdrawn, and she hadn't forced a confrontation because she'd wanted him to have time to absorb the astonishing news.

          Before he could do so, however, the sun had risen and she'd fallen asleep, lost to her demon. She'd been too distracted to participate in their usual terror games and didn't even know who they'd targeted.

          "Were you lying? Don't tell me!"

          The words whipped at her, and she quickly focused. Gideon hadn't moved her from the forest. Trees still surrounded her, birds and insects still sang. The spring still bubbled, and mist still wafted. There was no waning sunlight, no violet sky, only a thick blanket of dark, heavy clouds. A storm was brewing.

          In more ways than one.

          Gideon was bathed in shadows. Shadows her gaze had no trouble penetrating. His blue locks were wet and plastered to his brow, his cheeks, yet were still a gorgeous frame for the upsetting lines of tension that spread from his temples to his mouth. His eyes were like lasers, boring past the mental shields she surrounded herself with. His expression was tight, fierce, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a scowl.

          He stood in front of her, a dagger in each hand.

          Breath suddenly trapped in her throat, she swept her gaze over her body. There were no cuts on her arms or legs, and her dress was in one piece. There wasn't a single spot of blood to indicate he'd injured her.

          Okay. So. He hadn't attacked her in fury. Did that mean he could get away without saying, "Who aren't you today?" Did that mean he could get away with not kissing her awake?

          Gods, his kiss. She reached up and traced her fingertips over her mouth. A mouth that still tingled. His tongue had plundered and taken and given. Taken so much passion. Given so much pleasure. His hands had been everywhere, touching her, learning her. And his body, so hard and hot against hers, had transported her back to the heavens. Locked up, helpless still, but uncaring because she had her man. A man who loved her.

          It had been so long since she'd given in to the demands of her body. So long since she'd lost control. Gideon hadn't seemed to mind that loss. No, he'd seemed to enjoy it. He'd come on her belly and marked her as if they still belonged together.

          Afterward, she'd wanted to cuddle up to his side. She'd wanted to kiss his neck and breathe in his musky scent. She'd wanted to spill every secret, talk about everything they'd once shared.

          But she knew him, knew this man who had no clue about what she'd once meant to him. And she'd known beyond any doubt that that's what he had planned. He'd taken her from prison into paradise, simply for answers. Answers he would attempt to unearth through fair means or foul.

          He'd always been that way. When determination set in, Gideon was more stubborn than she was. It was as annoying as it was wonderful. For once he'd decided that she was to be his bride, he'd moved heaven and earth to make it happen. Despite the odds against them.

          She wouldn't be used in that way, however. She wouldn't let him think he could fuck her--or almost fuck her--and get his way.

          "Scar. You're not pissing me the hell off. Don't pay attention to me." He tossed one of the daggers with a lethal flick of his wrist. "Don't tell me what I don't want to know."

          Scarlet whipped around, following the movement of the blade. The tip was now embedded in the tree trunk, vibrating. And there were hundreds of grooves in the bark. He'd been tossing that thing all day, it seemed.

          "No," she said softly, facing him again. "I wasn't lying." Steel was not something she would lie about. Ever. For any reason. He had been--was still--the most important person in her life.

          A ragged breath left Gideon. "You didn't say was. His name was. That means he's...he's..."

          "He's dead," she whispered hoarsely. "Yes."

          Absolute agony contorted Gideon's features. Maybe she shouldn't have told him about the boy. Sometimes she wished she didn't know; it was just too painful. But part of her had thought, hoped, that Gideon would have retained knowledge about his own child. Knowledge that might have led to memories of his wife.

          "All of it. I don't want to know all of it." As he spoke, he sank to his knees, the knuckles wrapped around the second blade leaching of color. "Please."

          Seeing such a strong warrior reduced to such bleakness tore at her, and she had to blink back a rush of stinging tears. If she told him now, it wouldn't be because of sex. It would be because he'd begged. At least, that's how she rationalized this new need to share. Everything.

          "All right, yes," she said, no less hoarse as her harsh, jagged breath scraped against her chest cavity. "I'll tell. Tell you everything about his life and his death, but you can't speak. If you interrupt me with questions I may not be able to continue." Emotion would choke her. She would break down, sob, and no way would she allow Gideon to see her like that. This was going to be hard enough. "Got me?"

          A moment passed, Gideon remaining still, silent. What danced through his head, what made him hesitate to agree, she didn't know. All she knew was that talking about Steel wasn't something she did. Ever. Again, it was just too painful. Even if Gideon remained quiet, she wasn't sure she would be able to get through this. Definitely not without crying.

          Pretend it's a story you made up. Distance yourself. Yeah. Right.

          Finally Gideon worked through whatever issue he had with her demand for silence and nodded. His lips were pressed in a thin, mulish line, cutting off any words he might have wanted to speak.

          Scarlet inhaled deeply, searching for fortification. She didn't find it. The words simply wouldn't form.

          She pushed to shaky legs and strode to the tree with the dagger. Gideon didn't try to stop her as she removed the tip with a jerk. Then she began pacing, tapping the sharp metal against her thigh in a steady, hopefully calming rhythm. A cool, damp breeze fragrant with earth and sky wafted around her, while twigs and rocks cut at the soles of her feet.

          Just say the words. Pretend, pretend, pretend. You'll be talking about someone else's life. Someone else's son. "I told you I was pregnant and you were happy. You petitioned Zeus for my release into your custody. He said no. So you arranged for my escape. Only, I was caught. I was given twenty lashes before you realized I'd failed. They had thought to break me, to force me to tell them who had aided me. I didn't." She would have died first.

          "The pain was manageable, at least, but I was so afraid of losing the baby. My cellmates tried to hurt me, too, but I fought harder than I'd ever fought anyone and was soon given a cell of my own permanently, not just for our...interludes. That's where I eventually gave birth to our--" her voice caught on the word "--to a beautiful little boy."

          As the image of Steel flashed through her mind, that sweet boy sleeping on her chest, looking like an angel, she tripped over her own foot. She was shaking as she righted herself.

          True to his word, Gideon remained silent, waiting.

          The first few drops of rain fell, almost as if nature was crying for her. For all she'd lost.

          Pretend. "You visited me every day. And every day you stayed a little longer and were a little more reluctant to leave. I feared you would have yourself committed to the prison just to remain at my side." And she was ashamed to admit she'd liked the idea. "Then one day you came to me, told me you had a new plan to gain my freedom, though you didn't give me the details at the time. That plan was, of course, to steal Pandora's box. So needless to say, you never returned."

          At her sides, the trees began to blur. Her chin trembled, and her cheeks heated, the rain falling more steadily now. Do it. Keep going. She wanted to look down at Gideon but didn't. His expression, whatever it was, could be her undoing.

          "Then I was possessed by Nightmares, as you know, and I wasn't a fit mother. So the Greeks took him. Took Steel." And she'd blamed Gideon more and more for the separation. If only he'd come back for her, for them, how different things could have been. "When my head cleared and I realized what had happened, I begged to see him but my cries went unheeded. I tried to escape every day. And every day they whipped me anew."

          A choking sound left Gideon, but still Scarlet didn't allow herself to look at him.

          "Finally, I noticed how Tartarus, both the prison and its warden, were weakening. At last I managed to escape and made my way to Olympus. And I...I found our baby." This time, the choking sound left her. "But he was a baby no longer. Centuries had passed, but he was only a teenager, his immortality slowing his aging process, I guess. And he...he had no fucking idea who I was."

          Rain, tears. Both drenched her.

          Pretend, damn you. "He had grown horns and fangs, his eyes were red and patches of his skin were scaled. That's when I realized they'd given him a demon, too. Which one, I still don't know. But he was beautiful, damn it." The last was screamed, identical to a banshee's wail, but she couldn't help herself.

          Silence. The cool wash of water.

          Finish this. "They had made him their whipping boy. They laughed at him, kicked him, abused him vilely. There was no happiness in his eyes. Just resolution. He was enduring, proud, strong. A determined warrior. And that just made it worse, you know? I had failed that precious boy in every way, yet he was still everything I could have wanted in a son."

          Tears continued to leak, tendrils of acid, scorching her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her wrist, shaking violently now. Pretend. "I erupted at his treatment. I unleashed my demon in the most horrendous show of violence the heavens had ever seen. By the time I finished, the gods and goddesses around him were driven to insanity, which ultimately aided Cronus in his own escape.

          "But I digress. When the darkness cleared, I realized Steel was afraid of me. He even fought me when I tried to abscond with him. I didn't want to hurt him, so I let him run from me. He went to Zeus, the only father figure he'd ever known, and together they chased me down. Not that I tried to hide. I wanted Steel to find me."

          She swallowed the serrated lump growing in her throat. "To Steel's surprise, Zeus chained us in front of each other. He told Steel that I was his mother, and Steel...he..." Once again she had to fight past those blistering tears, not even the chilly rain cooling them.

          A sliver of rock sliced the sole of her foot, and she welcomed the sting. "He was distraught. He cried. Begged me to forgive him. I tried to reassure him. He could have killed me, and I wouldn't have cared. But Zeus was determined to punish me for the trouble I had caused. He took...he took Steel's head in front of me."

          Deep breath in, deep breath out. "I fought so fervently against my chains, I lost a hand that day. But I didn't free myself in time. He was...gone. He was gone, and I was thrown back into my cell. And I stayed there until the Titans managed to overthrow the Greeks for good. But you know the worst part? He'd planned it. Zeus had planned to kill him all along. He'd had someone there, waiting, a new host for Steel's demon."

          Again, silence. No, not true. Her choppy inhalations blended with Gideon's uneven exhalations and mixed with the patter of the storm.

          There. He knew everything now. Every painful moment of Steel's life. Scarlet's failure. His own failure. What could have been, what hadn't been. Why she hated him so damn much. Why she could not possibly ever forgive him for leaving her behind.

          "Scar," he whispered brokenly. "I--I--"

          Still she couldn't face him. She felt too exposed, too raw, as if she'd been scraped with a razor from the inside out. "What!" A scream.

          "I understand, I do." Meaning, he didn't. "That sounds like the...man I knew. A king who--"

          "Don't talk to me about that bastard! You liked him, I know. You respected him, admired his strength. Before your possession, he was even good to you. As much as he was capable of." And that wasn't much. So the fact that Gideon defended him in any way... Suffer! "How did he treat you afterward, huh? He cursed you and he banished you! But you know what? He was never good to me and he was never good to your son." The words were coming in gasping rumbles now, slashing at him.

          She had to stop. Her sobs were threatening to escape. But how dare he question the validity of her tale? He should be pleading for absolution. Shouting to the heavens. Cursing. That he wasn't...

          "I'm leaving you," she said. Though she'd tried for a calm, this-is-how-it's-gonna-be tone this time, her own suffering was evident in every nuance of her voice. "You owe me a boon, and I'm redeeming it by asking that you don't come after me. You've done enough damage."

          With that, she did it. She at last walked away and left her husband behind. She didn't look back. Closure sucked.

          YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH DAMAGE.

          The words echoed through Gideon's mind. Everything inside him screamed to jump up, to chase Scarlet down, to bind her to him in whatever way necessary, to do something, anything to soothe the wounds inside her, but he didn't. He remained crouched on the ground, shaking, hot tears streaming down his already soaked cheeks.

          She was right.

          He had done enough damage. At first, he hadn't wanted to believe her. He'd scrambled for any possible scrap to disprove her. But the pain in her eyes had been too real, the wounds in her voice seeping crimson. Which meant not only had he abandoned his wife, he'd also abandoned his son. An abandonment that had eventually led to his son's murder.