The Darkest Surrender (28 page)

And when he’d tried to question her about Sienna, when she had shaken her head and said, “After,” already lost to the lust-haze his demon created, Paris had given in without protest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, letting his voice dip with husky promise. Another skill he’d perfected over the years. “It’s just, you wore me out, sweetheart. I have no energy left.”

She chuckled and fell beside him, snuggling into his side. “Cronus won’t find out, I promise. So if you want to return to me…”

He remained silent. He couldn’t sleep with her again. His demon wouldn’t let him. Even if he spent hours kissing and touching her, his cock would remain flaccid and
useless. Always did around anyone he’d already bedded, and really, Paris wouldn’t have wanted a repeat, anyway. He felt guilty enough, sleeping with anyone other than Sienna.

He’d had her and he
could
have her again. He could get hard just thinking about her. Which was why everyone he’d nailed after her was like a slap in her beautiful face. Like she wasn’t good enough for him. Like she couldn’t satisfy him. But he couldn’t save her if he died and he really would die if he remained celibate.

Plus, he felt guilty for another reason. These lovers of his…they didn’t want him, not really. If not for his demon, they might not have ever slept with him, might have turned him down flat, found him unattractive, whatever. So, in a way, he was forcing them to be with him.

As always, his mind cringed away from the thought.

“What’s wrong?” Arca asked. “You tensed up.”

He forced himself to relax and rubbed her arm up and down, a gentle caress. “Earlier I mentioned a woman. A slave, killed and in soul form, and now possessed by a demon. Wrath. Her soul is invisible to the naked eye.” He tried not to reveal his own sense of desperation. “Do you know of whom I speak?”

She twirled a braid around one of her fingers. “Yes. I remember. You want to know where Cronus is keeping her.”

Easy, steady.
“Do you know the answer?”

“I haven’t heard anything, no.”

He closed his eyes, fighting a rush of disappointment and regret. He’d thought…he’d hoped…he’d been so sure…

“But,”
she went on, “I do know where he kept prisoners he couldn’t control, people he didn’t want anyone to find, before his imprisonment in Tartarus.”

“Tell me.” The words rang out with more force than he’d intended.

“I’ll do better than that.” Her arms tightened around him, and she trembled. “I’ll show you.”

His stomach churned.
Can’t alienate her.
“You know that isn’t possible, sweetheart,” he croaked. “You have to stay here.”

“But…” She sat up again, expression tight as her braids fell around them, framing them. “
Please.
I have to leave. I can’t stay here any longer. I hate it, and I’m slowly going insane.
Please.
”

He cupped her cheeks, trying to be gentle. “Tell me where to find this secret place and once my mission is done, I’ll come back for you. I’ll find a way to save you.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “That could take forever. You could die.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but that’s all I can offer.” He couldn’t save her now. He couldn’t try and free her now. That would alert Cronus. The god king would come gunning for him and Sienna would be lost to him forever.

If Paris lost his head, if that was his destiny, he first wanted to move Sienna somewhere safe. She’d died because of him. She’d been paired with a demon because of him. Because he’d brought her to the god king’s attention. Paris owed her.

“I could aid you,” Arca said. “Not just find the place for you, but help you navigate the secret corridors.”

“I know, sweetheart, but that doesn’t change my mind.”

“Please…”

He didn’t tell her that feminine pleas held little sway with him. How many had begged him to remain in bed with them? How many had cried as he walked away? “I’m sorry, but this is the best I can offer.”

And if she wouldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, if she continued to refuse him, he
would
hurt her.
Hurt…kill
…anyone who got in his way. Anyone. He’d come so far. She wouldn’t stop him from going further.

For a long while, she sobbed silently. Then she bucked up on her own, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, the stubborn expression reminding him of Kaia.

How was Strider handling the female determined to bring him to his knees? Either the possessive warrior was fighting his attraction or he’d finally given into it—otherwise he would have been here, right beside Paris, meeting the terms of their “challenge.”

“Do you swear you’ll come back for me after you find her?” Arca asked.

“Yes. I swear. When she’s truly safe, I will come.” The moment he spoke the words, he was bound to them. He knew it, felt the strength of the ties. To break your word to a god or goddess was to suffer eternally. If you survived.

She wiped at her tears. “All right. I’ll tell you what you wish to know. If Cronus has remained true to his old ways, and believe me, I know that he has, you will find your woman in one of two places. If she’s in the first, she’s lost to you forever. If she’s in the second, and you venture there, you won’t emerge unscathed.”

Sienna was
not
in the first and that was that. “The name of the second place?”

As the words left her lips, his blood chilled. Breath abandoned him. He’d known Cronus would punish her for running to Paris, but he hadn’t known the god king planned to torture her eternally.

Paris unfolded himself from the bed and dressed as swiftly as possible.

“Will you still go after her?” Arca asked.

“Yes,” he replied without a moment of hesitation. He was more determined now than ever.

K
ICKED OUT OF HEAVEN
and straight into hell, Kaia thought darkly. Or rather, her version of hell. And she hadn’t even gotten to enjoy her afterglow!

A campfire crackled in front of her, orange flames twined with blue. Heat licked over her. She’d never truly cooled down after making love with Strider—remembering, a shiver slid the length of her spine and she had to cut off a moan—and she was glad. She liked the heat. Mostly because of the lingering hum of satisfaction her…consort had provided.

Consort.

Currently Strider was “scouting the area for Hunters.” Didn’t take two hours to scout a small stretch of land. He was looking for the Paring Rod, no question. He wouldn’t find it. Not here. Juliette wasn’t foolish enough to hide the thing under her makeshift mattress.

So badly Kaia had wanted him to acknowledge the link between them. So badly she’d wanted to touch and taste him. Wanted to be touched and tasted by him. That she had, that he had…gods, she was now scared to death. Because…

He loved her. That still shocked her. They were a couple. A real couple. He would have her back, and she would have his. More than that, he came first now. That’s just how it had to be. Whether he was being a pain in the ass or a romantic mattress god, he was hers. She had to pro
tect him. Had to see to his future. And bottom line? He wanted,
needed,
the Paring Rod. Needed it to survive.

Therefore, she had to get it for him.

Right now her team was on the road to acquiring the artifact fair and square. But what if that changed? Juliette would then expect Kaia to make a play for it and the odds of actually getting her hands on it would cease to lean in her favor.

Therefore, there was no better time to strike.

Of course, that would take Kaia out of the competition and prove once and for all that she was unworthy, weak, but better her pride suffered than Strider died. She couldn’t live without him. She needed his blood, yes, but she also needed him. His smile, his laughter, his wit, his strength.

So, no contest and no more thought necessary. She would steal the Rod. Boom, done. She wouldn’t involve her sisters, though. She wouldn’t risk their lives. Not again. Especially now, when they were injured from the second game.

Had to happen tonight, she thought, her hands fisting. Most everyone would be intoxicated, healing or passed out. She’d make love to Strider—if he wanted and he had better want—and let the heat fill her once again. That heat energized her, a combination of lust and rage that swirled inside her, wanting so badly to escape. To consume.

Tonight she’d let it.

Soon…soon… Her narrowed gaze found Juliette. The brunette danced around the flickering fire, right alongside Kaia’s mother. Despite their recent loss, they were jubilant, carefree. As if they knew something she did not.

Juliette must have sensed her scrutiny; she met Kaia’s eye and grinned slowly, and, as always, smugly. Oh, yes. Tonight.

Kaia and Strider had fallen from Rhea’s forest and landed here, in Alaska, between the two mountains, right
where the mystical portal had been. They’d opened their eyes and found themselves here—along with all the other Harpies participating in the games and their consorts.

At first, confusion reigned. Then anger that they’d been ejected from the heavens—anger they’d hoped to take out on each other. A fight would have broken out if Kaia’s mother hadn’t declared this neutral ground. Apparently whatever Tabitha the Vicious wanted, Tabitha the Vicious got. So, instead of attacking, instead of going their separate ways and awaiting the third competition, the Harpies had decided to stay and party.

Stolen beer abounded, hard rock blasted through the night and vehicles commandeered from the nearest town shot bright headlights into the ice-laden valley. Many of the combatants were still bruised and bloody from the earlier battle, and some were still unconscious, but that didn’t discourage the revelers.

A few hours earlier, someone had stolen Kaia’s coat and she had no doubts as to the culprit. Juliette probably expected her to issue a private challenge over it, ruining everyone’s good time. Well, Juliette could suck it. The thing had been dirty as hell anyway.

“Hey, baby doll,” a sexy male voice said.

Strider. Her Strider. He smelled like cinnamon and looked like paradise, his cheeks pink and his hair disheveled, framing his face in a vivid halo.

Did she love him? She hungered for him, was amused by him and delighted in his attention. But love? Trusting him with all that she was? Her sisters were the only members in her Faith Circle and she’d never thought to welcome another. Especially someone who did indeed have an agenda different than her own.

He plopped beside her and held out a frosted glass. “This is mine. Not yours. Don’t touch.”

Maybe trusting him wasn’t so bad. She took the glass
from him with a muttered, “Thanks,” and sipped. Despite the coolness of the drink, her body temperature continued to rise.

“I talked to Sabin and Lysander. They’ve set up camp about a mile away and are doctoring Bianka and Gwen.”

So he hadn’t been searching for the Rod? Wonder of wonders. “What about Taliyah, Neeka and the others?”

“They took off without a word.”

“They’re always doing that,” she grumbled.

“Well, this time I followed them.”

Her gaze swung to him. His navy eyes were bright, his lips curled seductively. Her heart skipped a beat. He wore a leather jacket, jeans, boots. Typical Strider attire. The man was always ready to give an ass-kicking.

“Really?” she asked. “And they didn’t sense you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She considered him anew. There were fresh cuts on his palms, nicks on his fingers. “What happened? Did they hurt you? Because if they hurt you, I will personally—”

“Easy, Red.” Those lips curled farther until he was grinning. “They just warned me away. Anyway, they had no idea I was behind them at first. They snuck through a few of the tents of warring teams.”

“Searching for the Rod?” But why would
they
do so?

“I don’t think so.” He stroked his chin in thought. “In the woods back there,” he hiked his thumb behind him, “they met a group of guys I didn’t recognize. Warriors, though. Immortal. Taliyah scented me out before I could get close enough to listen to their conversation.”

Taliyah. With men. Interesting. And unusual. Her older sister usually kept her distance from the opposite sex, never wanting to chance finding her consort. Not that Taliyah was a man-hater. She wasn’t. She just liked her space, liked doing her own thing. Liked having no ties, able to leave anyplace, anytime with no hindrances.

“Something’s up,” Kaia said.

“True, but I don’t think it concerns us or the games. The men were mostly interested in Neeka. Almost…proprietary toward her. So. Speaking of the Rod,” he went on, “I’ve been thinking. What if Juliette doesn’t have it? What if she’s got a fake?”

A possibility, though a dim one; Kaia recalled the power she’d felt emanating from the spear when Lazarus had walked on stage with it. One way or another, though, she would discover the truth.

Drunken feminine laughter cut off any reply she might have made. Good thing, too. There were too many possible eavesdroppers for them to have this conversation here. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Nope. Now. We’ll just be more circumspect.” Strider wound his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer. He didn’t release her, but whispered straight into her ear, his warm breath caressing her. “Couple questions are plaguing me. We didn’t know where the Paring Rod was. How did she? And how’d she get her hands on it without alerting anyone in our world? And why hasn’t she used it? Why would she give it away? Okay, that’s more than a couple.”

Kaia’s nipples had hardened at the contact and moisture had pooled between her legs.
This
was circumspect? Didn’t matter. She’d play. “Rhea could have given it to her, I suppose,” she whispered straight into
his
ear. Then she couldn’t help herself and had to lick the shell.

He pushed out a breath. Tempted to eat him alive, Kaia returned her attention to the dancers. Juliette and her mother were gone, she noted distantly.

“But why would she?” He saw her lick and raised her a warm puff of air. “There’s no reason good enough. Rhea hates my kind, wants us dead. She wouldn’t want us to get
our hands on such a prized possession. She would have given it to the Hunters. To Galen.”

Goose bumps broke out over Kaia’s entire body. “Maybe Juliette stole it from her. Rhea’s missing, after all, and no one’s heard from her. Maybe Juliette killed her and assumed control of the Hunters.” She nibbled on his lobe before showing him her profile, eager for him to have his next turn.

He didn’t disappoint. He kissed along her cheekbone while his fingers caressed their way to the underside of her breast. “If that were the case, Cronus would be dead. The two are bound, so when one dies, the other will, as well. And Cronus is very much alive. Amun has been meeting with him.”

She leaned into his touch, her nerve endings sparking to dazzling life. “Juliette could have her locked up, then.” To find the Rod, Kaia knew she’d have to snatch up Juliette and torture her for information. She’d already considered and accepted the necessity. Now, she’d ask about Rhea and the Hunters, too.

Strider circled her nipple once, twice. “If so, she’s more powerful than we realized.”

Sweet fire, that felt good. She flattened her palm on his thigh, not surprised to find her claws sharpened, ready to dig into his flesh. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle her. Besides, I owe her.”

No matter the answers Kaia might force from Juliette, it was clear the bitch had somehow orchestrated this whole thing. To steal Strider, perhaps, as she’d first suspected. Not that Juliette had made much of an effort on that front, but she’d definitely wanted to taunt Kaia with what she could never have. Victory. Respect from her fellow Harpies. But also from Strider, if she failed him?

And if she
did
fail him, would he still love her?

She didn’t want to contemplate the answer, was already chilled to the marrow by the mere possibility.

“For future reference,” she said, no longer whispering, “you should know that I don’t get mad. I get even.”

“Good.” He placed a soft kiss at the edge of her mouth. “’Cause that’s how I like my candy and my women. Hot and spicy.”

The comment roused an unexpected chuckle from her. “Anyway, like I said, we shouldn’t discuss this here.” No matter how much she enjoyed the exchange of information.

He sighed. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

He reached up and ruffled her hair. “Braggart.”

“Just being honest. So what happened to your hands?” she asked, changing the subject before she launched herself onto his lap and had her way with him right here, right now.

“Nothing.” There was a note of finality in his voice. A note that dared her to press—and lose.

A lie. She knew it, but still she let it slide. Now wasn’t the time to argue with him. They needed to display a united front.

“Lucky me,” another sexy male voice said, this time from behind her. “If it isn’t my favorite Harpy.”

Strider stiffened and they turned in unison—united, yay—and pushed to their feet. Lazarus stood before them, thick arms crossed over his middle. Like Strider, he wore a jacket and jeans. Unlike Strider, he did not make her heartbeat quicken.

“Hey, there, Tampon. Where’s your master?” Kaia asked him.

The obsidian in his eyes swirled menacingly. What? No more amusement for his pet name? “She’s having a private meeting with your mother about all the ways they plan to
destroy you. I’m supposed to keep you occupied—a task that is no hardship. Would you like to go someplace private with
me?
I could at last meet all your needs.”

Strider growled low in his throat and the sound reminded her of a countdown clock.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, someone’s about to die.

“Thanks,” Kaia said, “but I’d rather be on an island, a millionaire hunting me so he can kill me and drape my skin in front of his fireplace.”

“You and I will play that game later, baby doll,” Strider said. “You, on the other hand,” he threw at Lazarus, “can go someplace private with me now.”

Cold fingers of dread ran down Kaia’s spine.
Please, please, please don’t challenge him.

“Thanks,” Lazarus replied, “but you’re not my type. So, if you won’t leave with me, sweet Kaia, why don’t we stay here and chat?”

The words earned another savage growl from Strider.

Oh, gods. The two were going to come to blows and there would be no stopping them.

She knew how powerful the immortal in front of her was. He’d ripped through a camp of Harpies, escaped unscathed and remained hidden for…well, she didn’t know how long, just that he had. Strider was powerful, too, but he had a handicap. His demon.

Like that’ll slow him.

The thought was immediately followed by another.
You can use this.
She needed to know what her mother and Juliette were planning and a fight between Strider and Lazarus would serve as the perfect distraction, allowing her to slip away unnoticed to accidentally on purpose overhear something.

Strider must have considered the same thing—and his demon must have accepted the challenge of finding out—because he launched himself at the warrior without another
word. The two flew to the ground in a tangle of limbs. And knives. The silver tips glinted in the moonlight.

Yeah, Strider wanted to kill the warrior, but that wasn’t why he’d started the fight and she knew it. He’d given her the cover she needed to find the women in question, but damn it! She hated to leave him.

As the warriors grunted in pain, dashed and ducked, threw punches, kicked and slashed, the Harpies around the campfire noticed. A second later, the cheering and betting began.

Kaia worked her way through the throng, her gaze remaining on Strider until the last possible second. He and Lazarus were now rolling in the snow, leaving pools of blood in their wake. Her stomach clenched.