The Darkest Lie (21 page)

          AMUN STUMBLED through the smoky cavern, William and Aeron holding him up and keeping him from kissing the bone-laden ground. They'd fought countless demon minions to get here, to this forgotten valley of death. They were as injured as he was. He shouldn't add to their burden, but he couldn't help himself.

          Crunch, crunch. Sweat poured from him, draining him. His skin was sliced like a Christmas ham, but that wasn't the worst of his torment. Too many secrets...they were bombarding him, consuming him. Evil secrets, vile secrets. Thefts, rapes and murders. Oh, the murders.

          The souls decaying in this underground prison had killed their brethren in the most heinous of ways, enjoying every bit of torture they inflicted. And now, the demons who lived here were enjoying every bit of the torture they inflicted. Retaliation, they found it so sweet.

          The demons, at least, didn't keep secrets. They were happy to share the disgusting details of their lives. But Amun could also read their minds and knew their basest thoughts. He could feel their desire to steal, to rape and murder. Could see through their eyes as they did so.

          Never had he felt so dirty, and he doubted he would ever be able to cleanse himself of this. Secrets loved it, though. Loved every moment of it. Was humming, soaking up each new revelation like chocolate through a straw.

          "Nothing on Legion?" Aeron asked for the thousandth time.

          He shook his head and winced at the ensuing ache.

          "We can't keep roaming this place blind," William said. "We're each cut up and bleeding from our last go-round with those minions. They're small, but damn, they're wily. I thought I was going to lose my balls."

          Lucifer might be afraid of the warrior, but his servants were not. They'd attacked William as staunchly as they'd attacked Amun and Aeron.

          "You're going to have to steal a demon's memories," Aeron told Amun grimly. "It's the only way. William's right for once. The longer we're here, the more we're forced to fight and the weaker we become."

          No, Amun thought, even as he nodded. He'd known it would come to this. He'd hoped otherwise, and had resisted for as long as he could. If things were bad now, they were going to be impossible after he stole a full set of demon memories. There would be no purging himself later.

          They would be a part of him forever.

          Why are you doing this again? he wondered. Because he loved Aeron. Wanted his friend happy and knew his friend couldn't be happy any other way.

          And what of your happiness?

          He ignored that question. He might talk himself out of what he was about to do, and couldn't allow himself to do such a thing. Find a demon, he signed. Bring it to me alive. The higher up the caste system it is, the better.

          "You want a High Lord?" William asked, incredulous. A High Lord was what possessed each of the Lords. They were the most powerful of the demons and the most knowledgeable of what was happening down here, but there were only a few left within these depths. A few that hadn't tried to escape with the others. Like Secrets.

          Amun nodded. If possible. They would also be the hardest to capture.

          His friends led him to the shadowed mouth of the nearest cave and eased him down. Every muscle in his tired body sighed in relief, basically liquefying. He closed his eyes. Rest, he'd rest for a moment.

          Someone patted his shoulder. Someone placed a gun in his hand. Then footsteps sounded. How long he sat there, weapon gradually slipping from his too-loose hold, he didn't know. All he knew was that the next time he opened his eyes, his friends were back.

          Aeron and William stood before him, panting, barely managing to maintain their grip on a wildly bucking demon. The creature was as tall as they were, with green scales over portions of its body and a face composed only of bone. Several horns protruded from its spine and even its feet.

          "Not a High Lord, but close enough," Aeron gritted out. There was a new gash on his forehead and blood was seeping into his left eye.

          "Do your thing," William commanded. "Before it's too late."

          Though it required every ounce of his strength, Amun managed to reach out and place his hands on the creature's skull. The bucking intensified. Frantic screams escaped. Twice, Amun's sweaty palms slid out of place, but he eventually made the mental connection and his hands were no longer needed.

          Memory after memory flooded him. A lifetime of rage and pain and torture. All inflicted upon others. The creature was second in command to the High Lord Pain, Reyes's demon. Upon Pain's escape, this creature had taken over. And oh, had it enjoyed hurting others. In every way imaginable and even some Amun had never considered.

          This one had even hurt Legion. And now her shrieks were trapped inside Amun, her terrified expression the only thing he could see. Gods, he wanted to vomit. And did vomit, the moment the connection was severed.

          William and Aeron released their burden, and it collapsed to the ground, useless now, brain wiped clean.

          A hand settled atop Amun's head and caressed down, stopping at the base of his neck and massaging. A comforting touch meant to soothe. Nothing could soothe him, however. Not ever again.

          "Do you know where she is?" Aeron asked gently.

          Amun nodded, tears burning his eyes. Those shrieks...the blood...too much...

          The hand on his neck stilled. "Where? Tell me, Amun. Please."

          Amun raised his gaze, ready to vomit again. She's given to a new demon every other day. She's beaten, tortured...and worse. In between those days, she returns to Lucifer, who entertains his minions with her screams. Today, she's with him. And he...he...he knows you're here. He plans to kill you in front of her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

          SCARLET DIDN'T move or speak as Gideon crawled up her body. He took his time, too, removing her boots, socks and pants along the way. She could have protested. She didn't. She needed this, she realized. Just once. A moment of beauty and pleasure to overshadow a lifetime of hate and regret. Of sadness and pain. Of deceit.

          Funny, Gideon was keeper of Lies, yet he'd been the only person ever to be honest with her.

          So this moment? Yes, she would take it. Cling to it. Anything else with him...no. As long as her mother lived, as long as her aunt could manipulate her mind, she was a danger to him.

          A danger he didn't deserve. He was blameless of every crime she'd ever tossed at his door.

          Gods, she was a fool. Deserved only punishment. She should leave, not luxuriate in her own selfishness by stealing this moment. She owed him that, at the very least. But she couldn't force herself to pull away from him. Just once, she reminded herself. She'd have him. He seemed to want her, too, so really, leaving would make her selfish.

          "So ugly," he whispered, reverently tracing his fingertips along the inside of her thighs.

          Goose bumps broke out over her flesh, but when he realized what he'd said, he froze and looked up at her with budding panic.

          "I know what you meant," she told him softly. He'd left her in a T-shirt and panties, so he couldn't see the hard tips of her nipples. Couldn't see how much she already desired him.

          Slowly, he relaxed. "I'm not amazed by you, devil." His thumbs dabbled at the indentation behind her knee, caressing her, tantalizing her. "Don't tell me you know that."

          How could he be so gentle with her? How could he stand to touch her? After everything they'd just learned? If you're going to enjoy this, you have to stop traveling down that thought path.

          But she couldn't stop. The thoughts lanced at her, sharp and undeniable. She had built fantasies around this man. She had. All on her own. Her aunt had merely made the suggestion that they'd been married, and Scarlet had created a full-blown history. She was humiliated. She was remorseful. Vulnerable. Raw. Humiliated. Had she mentioned that?

          Mostly, she was mourning. Her beautiful wedding had never happened. She'd never lain in this man's arms, hopeful and sated. She hadn't given him a son. Her chin trembled as white-hot tears flooded her eyes.

          "You don't have to do this." She might not want him to end it, might want this one moment with him, but she had to offer him a way out. If he was doing this out of pity, well, she couldn't handle any more embarrassment and that would embarrass her more than anything else. "You aren't really my husband."

          "Keep talking," he muttered, lifting her shirt, bending down and laving at her navel. "I'm loving what you have to say."

          A tremor moved through her, sultry and hungry. "Keep talking" equaled "shut up" in Gideon Speak. Who would have thought she'd enjoy hearing those words? "All I'm trying to say is that you don't owe me anything." Was that breathless voice hers? "If anything, I owe you."

          He stilled, raised his head again, his eyes narrowing, lashes tangling together and blocking that gorgeous ocean-blue. "You owe me lots." There was unrestrained fury in his tone. "That's exactly what this is about." O-kay.

          "I don't want you desperately," he said tightly. "Do you not understand? My body doesn't ache for yours. I haven't dreamed of being with you since the first moment I saw you. The past matters. It does."

          Several tears splashed over and trickled down her cheeks. Embarrassing tears. But still she couldn't move away. The past didn't matter to him? "Really?" How could she dare to hope?

          He nodded, his unrelenting gaze never leaving hers. "You aren't mine."

          She was his. And just like that, something snapped inside her. The resistance she'd fought so hard to build against him, perhaps. All that remained inside her was desire. So much desire. She would have him. Just this once, she reminded herself a second time. She would hold nothing back. Would give him everything.

          What would happen to her heart afterward, she didn't know. Liar! What's left of it will shatter. She wouldn't worry about that until absolutely necessary. Right now, Gideon was with her. He wanted her. That would be enough.

          Though she'd wanted to jump him every time he'd neared her, she'd never allowed herself to be the aggressor with him. Her resentment and pride had hindered and muted every sensation. But not this time.

          Slowly Scarlet sat up, forcing Gideon to do the same, until he straddled her thighs. Her hair tumbled to her shoulders. The strands weren't long enough to shield her cleavage, and that irritated her for a moment. Such a thing would have been sexy, and she wanted to be sexy for this man. In every possible way.

          She wanted him to want her with the same intensity she'd wanted him all these years. All these centuries.

          He sucked in a breath. "No more."

          More. "Not yet. I want to see you." She gripped the hem of his shirt and jerked the material over his head.

          Now she was the one to suck in a breath. Gods, he was magnificent. Perfect in every way. His skin was golden, his stomach roped with unparalleled strength. The black eyes and red lips he had tattooed on his chest and neck caught her gaze and she traced them with a fingertip. She even traced an imaginary butterfly on his right shoulder, nail scraping lightly, leaving an imprint of red. They might not be married, but the symbol connected them.

          "Cools so bad," he panted.

          Burns so good, he meant, and that thrilled her. She moved her touch to the indigo loop piercing his nipple, then the sapphire stud in his navel. Blue again.

          "Why do you like blue so much?" she asked just before flicking her tongue against the nipple ring. Cold metal and hot skin, a delicious combination.

          A moan escaped him. "You don't want to talk about this now?" He curled a hand over the erection straining over the waist of his pants and rubbed up and down. "There's not something better for us to do."

          And she'd thought him magnificent before. Silly her. Here he was, at his most primal. A warrior who saw what he wanted and took it, damn the consequences. But... "Yeah. I do want to talk." Knowing him was just as important as being with him. Only this once.

          That time, she despised the reminder.

          Gideon's hand fell away, and he sighed, placing her desires above his own. He didn't edge away from her, but cupped her ass and urged her forward, until the core of her covered him. Hard, hot. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop a reckless groan from forming.

          He licked his lips. "There wasn't this kid in Tartarus, and he wasn't the ugliest little thing I'd ever seen. One day I didn't deliver a new prisoner into his cell and the kid didn't ask for a game. Only thing I couldn't find was paper and a crayon. Wasn't blue. When I didn't hand them over, the kid didn't smile the sweetest smile I'd ever seen and tell me that blue was the bestest color in the world, like the sky he'd heard about but had never seen. That day, blue didn't start to represent...freedom to me."

          As he'd spoken, Scarlet had ceased breathing, the tremor sliding the length of her spine too intense. "This boy," she managed to say. "Did he have a shaved head and black eyes?"

          Frowning, Gideon tilted his head to the side. "How did you--" He went rigid. His gaze widened, and his attention zeroed in on her face, studying intently. "It wasn't you," he gasped out. "But you--"

          "Had a shaved head like a boy, yes." Perhaps that was how he'd known her eyes, but that didn't explain how he'd known her lips. Had he seen them when she invaded his dreams, as she suspected? Had he truly been that aware of her? "It was one of the few kindnesses I remember from my mother. Most of the prisoners knew I was a girl, but it was best not to remind them. It was best to look as...unattractive as possible."

          "Did anyone..."

          She arched a brow. "Tartarus was filled with gods and goddesses used to getting their way. Used to exerting their power anytime they wished. They were angry, frustrated and desolate. What do you think?" She could have lied. Made herself seem pure, untouched. Yet, she wanted only honesty between them.

          Oh, the irony, she thought.

          A muscle ticked below his eye. "I didn't go to Zeus and ask for the boy's release, you know. I wasn't denied." Each word was harsher than the last.

          "Thank you," she said, and she grinned. "That was sweet of you." So they had spoken inside that prison. That was real. A real memory. And they'd shared it. Together. No wonder she had adored this man from the first. "I'm done talking now. I hope you are?"

          "Yes," he said gruffly.

          But he was still clearly considering the past. Still angry about her treatment. She wanted him focused on her now, and only her. "Gideon?"

          "Mmm-hmm."

          "I'm going to have you now."

          He huffed, but remained still as she unfastened his pants. Black briefs, tenting with his arousal. Her mouth watered. Before the night was over, she was going to have that hard, thick shaft inside her mouth and body. She wasn't letting Gideon leave this bed until they'd both climaxed a dozen times. At least. She would make the most of their night together.

          Quickly she worked both the pants and the underwear off his legs and tossed them to the floor. He'd already kicked off his boots and socks. If he'd even been wearing them. She couldn't recall. And now, finally, he was bare. Now, finally, he was all hers.

          She sat at his ankles, admiring the rest of him. His legs were long, lean yet perfectly muscled. There was a smattering of dark hair on his calves that thinned on his thighs and thickened again around his shaft. His testicles were heavy and drawn up tight.

          "Don't touch me," he croaked out. "Your stare isn't killing me."

          So he thought he was dying, did he? "Then I feel sorry for you. I haven't even begun to torture you yet."

          A groan. Of anticipation? She hoped so.

          Scarlet traced his real butterfly tattoo with her tongue, then worked her way up to his sac. He uttered another groan, this one far more hoarse. Just to torment him further, she blew on the moisture she'd left behind, warm breath that would cool against his skin. Yet another groan, even a bowing of his back as he sought closer contact.

          "Grip the headboard and don't let go," she commanded, lest he decided to pump into her mouth and end things too quickly. He'd made her work for her first orgasm with him. She could do no less for him. "Do you understand?" He stiffened.

          At first, she thought she'd pushed this dedicated warrior used to control too far. He stared up at her, uncertainty in his eyes. But then, his arms flew above his head and his fingers wrapped around the top of the wood. Holding so tightly his knuckles blanched.

          His uncertainty hadn't stemmed from a reluctance to follow her orders, she realized, but from trepidation. He was afraid to believe she'd actually take over.

          And that meant...he wanted control taken from him. Wanted to lose himself to the passion without worrying about anything but the sensations. Of course. The humans he'd been with wouldn't have known because he wouldn't have been able to tell them. Never mind that Scarlet wanted to kill those humans for having touched and tasted him.

          "Tell me what you want from me." She needed to hear him say it. Needed him to know that she and no other understood his true meaning. "Admit it. In your way."

          "I--I--" He licked his lips again. There was no shame in his brilliant eyes, only more of that woeful trepidation. "I don't know what you're wanting me to admit."

          Yes, he did. "Say it, Gideon, or I walk away. This ends." Could she follow through with that threat? She didn't know. Hopefully, he wouldn't make her find out. Already she was damp and aching, hungry for him.

          And she wondered, would he be the lover she'd created in her mind? Or something more?

          "I don't want you to be in charge," he whispered, as if he feared she would take him at his word.

          "Good. That's good. Because in this bed, I decide your every action. In this bed, I own you."

          The relief that curtained his features would thrill her for the rest of her days.

          So she took the game to the next level. "If you hesitate to obey me even once, I'll leave you unsatisfied. You'll have to watch me pleasure myself, knowing you won't be allowed to climax. Understand?"

          He nodded, unable to hide his eagerness. Even his cock twitched.

          She'd never been this hard-core an aggressor--sexually, that is--but she would be lying if she claimed not to enjoy it. She wanted to be what Gideon had never had before. She wanted to be everything he needed, everything he yearned for.

          "Don't move, not even a little," she told him as she lowered her mouth to his erection. She didn't touch him, though, only let her exhalations continue to caress him. For a moment, she thought perhaps he'd even stopped breathing.

          "Devil," he finally gritted out. But he didn't move. Oh, no, he didn't move. "I can wait forever. Please, please don't...do anything. Please..."

          Still she waited. Until her blood was molten in her veins. Until he was trembling. Until she felt ready to jump out of her skin, the darkness and screams swirling inside her, desperate for release. Then Scarlet licked him from base to tip.

          He shouted her name, a prayer and a curse rolled into one hoarse entreaty. She twirled her tongue around his slit, tasting the saltiness of his seed, then bore down, taking him all the way inside. Until, long as he was, he hit the back of her throat. My man.