Gena Showalter - [Lords of the Underworld 13]

by The Darkest Craving

Kane received an unapologetic and shameless thumbs-up before he shut the door, stalked to the bathroom and vomited. When he finished, he cleaned his mouth with the contents of another bottle of whiskey.

  And not a second too soon.

  A knock sounded at the door. William and a brunette strutted inside.

  “How about this one?” the warrior asked.

  “Whatever,” Kane said. “She’ll do.”

  Before the night was over, Kane took twelve women. He used different positions, and different types of females. Girls in their twenties, women in their forties, more blondes, more brunettes and even two redheads. He hated every second, even hated himself. He vomited every time.

  Disaster loved it all, and yet he never stopped tossing out images of Kane’s torture.

  He hated the demon a thousand times more.

  His time’s coming...soon...

  The mountains of Montana

  KANE HACKED THROUGH the foliage in front of him. Branches continually slapped at him, courtesy of Disaster. The satisfaction the creature had experienced during the sexual marathon hadn’t lasted long. Now, rocks rolled in his way, tripping him. Insects snapped at him.

  He had to reach the Fae before the demon did any major damage...or Kane’s mind finally snapped. Whichever came first.

  His head was even more unfamiliar terrain, with dark valleys and impossibly high mountains he could never hope to climb. Or maybe he could. When he’d left the club, he’d realized the Fae had become a source of light to him. His only source of light. She had made him want to smile during the worst period of his life. For that alone, she was a miracle.

  He could really use a miracle.

  Perhaps she could do what the parade of women had not: wash away the worst of his memories. Bring peace, if only for a little while.

  Perhaps. But perhaps not.

  Either way, he had to know. Had to see her, talk to her. Save her.

  Deep inside, where instinct still demanded she belonged to him, he suspected she was his only hope of survival.

  So, he would find her.

  Would she smell the stale cigarettes and old perfume he hadn’t been able to wash from his skin? Would she demand he leave her alone?

  Probably.

  Would he obey?

  No.

  I’m disgusting. Cruel. A user and a whore.

  I didn’t used to be this way, he wanted to shout.

  What was the Fae’s name? The fact that he didn’t know was starting to irritate him. He would call her...Kewpie? No. Those big, gorgeous eyes fit, but nothing else. Tinker Bell, then. Yeah. Tinker Bell worked. She was such a delicate little thing, with her pointy ears and sharp little chin, and she flittered from here to there, always out of reach.

  According to Torin’s surveillance, she was staying in a cabin in these woods. About an hour ago, Kane had found the cabin but not the girl. However, he had discovered fresh tracks. Human. Female. Size six feet. She couldn’t have much of a head start on him, and she couldn’t be moving very fast. As deep as her prints were, she was carrying a heavy load. Plus, night had fallen.

  The half-moon lacked its usual glow, allowing an almost suffocating darkness to reign. The air was cold, the breeze wafting from the snow-capped mountains and chasing away any hint of warmth. Trees knifed toward the blackened sky.

  “What’s got your panties in such a twist?” William asked from behind him. “It’s not my fault the pleasure train failed to work for you. You must not have done it right.”

  Kane ignored him.

  “What’s so important about this girl, anyway? I mean, really.”

  Again silence.

  “Does she have a magic pu—”

  Kane spun around and punched him in the jaw. “Enough!” Fury bubbled in his blood, molten, acidic—poisonous. “Don’t go there. Don’t ever go there. Not with her.”

  William rubbed the wound. “So why are we hunting her?” he asked as if Kane hadn’t just resorted to violence.

  Could nothing shut the warrior up? Kane jolted back into motion. “She says I owe her.” And it was true...if not the full truth.

  “And you always pay your debts? What kind of craziness is that?”

  “Some people would say it’s honorable.” Maybe the only honor Kane had left.

  “Some people are stupid.”

  “And there’s the number-one reason I’ll never do anything for you.”

  “Because you’re stupid like everyone else? That’s being a little harsh on yourself, don’t you think? I mean, sure, if you ever entertained a bright idea I’d have to say it was beginners’ luck, but you have your moments.”

  I can act like I’m a calm, rational being. Kane stalked past a wall of green and entered a clearing. He stopped and breathed deeply. The air was clean here. Pure and untouched. Also kind of annoying. He wanted to catch a hint of rosemary, mint and maybe even smoke, indicating Tinker Bell was still here and warming herself in front of a fire.

  He could swoop in and grab her. She would probably fight him, but he wasn’t worried. She lacked skill. And strength. Was probably fatigued. But she’s got heart, he thought, a now familiar ache lancing through his chest.

  “Well?” William prompted.

  “We set up camp.” Not because they’d been on the move since leaving the club and needed to rest—though they had and they did—but because he could tell they were being followed and he didn’t want to lead his shadow to Tinker Bell.

  He doubted the Hunters were after him. Apparently, during Kane’s forced stay in hell, a battle had been waged in the skies, Hunters against Lords, Titans against Sent Ones.

  The Lords and Sent Ones had won, utterly destroying the Hunters and severely weakening the Titans.

  Kane gathered stones, twigs and dried leaves to build a fire. He cared little about warmth. He wanted the one following him to see the smoke and assume he was relaxed, unprepared. Was the culprit immortal? If so, what race? And why was he after Kane?

  Doesn’t matter. He withdrew a dagger and sharpened it against one of the stones he’d set aside. His reflection caught on the silver metal, and firelight illuminated the image. The red in his eyes had intensified.

  Disaster had grown stronger, Kane far weaker. Disgusted, he set the weapon away.

  “You know we’ve got a female Phoenix on our tail, right?” William asked.

  A Phoenix? He’d never messed with the fire-happy race. “I do. Of course I do.” Now. “How did you know?”

  “I can smell her. How else?”

  “Right.”

  “The plan?”

  “To wait.”

  “And slaughter her on our own turf,” William said with a nod, black hair shagging around his supermodel face—or whatever he insisted on calling that ugly mug. “I like it. Simple, yet elegant.” He eased onto the only rock in front of the fire he hadn’t helped build, and dug through his backpack. He withdrew a pistachio nutrition bar he’d stolen from Kane, tore off the wrapper—and ate every bite, never offering Kane a taste.

  Typical.

  “That was good. You should have brought one.” William brushed his hands together. He wore a T-shirt that read I’m a Jenius, and that pretty much encapsulated the male’s entire personality. Silly, unconcerned, irreverent. Misleading.

  Kane dug through his own pack. He withdrew three daggers, two Sigs and the parts to his long-range rifle. What could a female Phoenix want with him? He knew the race lived for the enslavement of others. He knew they were nearing extinction, many having met their final end. Like cats with nine lives. He knew they were bloodthirsty and war-hungry...but they usually only picked battles they could win.

  So confident. Disaster chuckled with evil glee. So wrong.

  Kane ignored him. He’d tried engaging the fiend, snapping retorts, issuing threats, but look where that had gotten him. Now, he wasn’t going to waste his time or energy. And why should he? This was a full-on case of dead demon talking.

  Suddenly sparks flew from the fire, s
hooting out white-hot streams in every direction. Grass sizzled, and black smoke billowed. Heat licked over Kane’s pants, blistering his calves.

  William scrambled around, patting out the flames. “You’re a menace. You know that, right? Everywhere we go, something terrible happens.”

  “I know.” And the worst was yet to come. “To your knowledge, have the Moirai ever had a wrong prediction?”

  “Oh, yes,” William said. “Definitely.”

  Hope bloomed. “When?” He fit the rifle’s barrel on top of the frame, and the scope on top of that. He inserted the screws and gently tightened. “How?”

  “When—too many times to count. How—free will. Our choices dictate our future, nothing else.”

  Intelligent words from a Jenius. Go figure. “They think I’m destined to marry the keeper of Irresponsibility.”

  “So do it. Hunt her down and marry her.”

  William made it sound so easy. Just snap his fingers, and boom. Done. Only one little problem. He had yet to meet the keeper of Irresponsibility.

  “I’m not sentencing a woman to an eternity with me.” He attached the bipod and rested the entire weapon on a thick stump.

  “What about White?” William grumbled. “I happen to think you’ll end up with her, whether I like it or not.”

  White was William’s only daughter, and, if Kane had to take a guess, one of the reasons William had followed him out here. William wanted Kane to stay away from the girl.

  “I know you do,” he said. “What I don’t know is why.”

  “Simple. I was once told her husband would cause an apocalypse.”

  “By the Moirai?”

  “One of the Moirai. I slept with Klotho. And both of her sisters.”

  “I so did not need to hear that. Dude, they’re ancient.”

  “They weren’t at the time,” William said with his classic wanton grin.

  “Whatever. What about your whole free-will over fate spiel?”

  “I believe you’ll choose her.”

  “I hate her.” He remembered how, in hell, she had stood over his bound and mutilated form. Silent. Uncaring. Then, she’d left him to his suffering.

  Actually, hate was too soft a word for what he felt for her.

  “Maybe I’ll just avoid both women,” he added, “and save myself the trouble.”

  “You? Avoid trouble? Ha!”

  He gnashed his molars. “I can try. And what will you do if White and I do end up together, huh? You don’t think I’m good enough for her.”

  “I certainly don’t. You just slept your way through a baker’s dozen.”

  “At your urging.”

  “And your point? I didn’t hold a gun to your head.”

  In some ways, Disaster had.

  “If you two hook up, I’m moving back to hell. I don’t want to clean up her mess,” William said. “And I know she’ll make one. She won’t be able to help herself. It’s her nature.”

  William, the adopted brother of the underworld’s king, Lucifer, had once lived in hell. Eventually, the hate, greed, envy and wickedness living in his soul had mated with the vengeance living in his heart. White, as well as her brothers, Red, Black and Green, had spewed from him.

  He’d heard demons call them the four horsemen of the apocalypse. But these four were not, not really; they were more like shadows of the originals.

  Actually, that’s exactly what they were. Shadow warriors.

  They had been birthed in evil, and prophecy claimed they had futures to match. White was to conquer anyone she encountered, before somehow enslaving herself. Red was to bring war, Black famine, and Green death.

  Little wonder Kane wanted nothing to do with White. He had enough problems, thanks.

  And yes, he knew being conceived in evil had no bearing on the girl herself. He knew those in darkness could find their way to the light. He knew something beautiful could come out of something terrible. After all, diamonds were formed in the mantle of the earth, with horrendous heat and bone-crushing pressure.

  He knew. But he didn’t care.

  It wasn’t White he longed to see. It wasn’t White he yearned to scent.

  It wasn’t White his mind pictured and his treacherous body suddenly responded to, shimmering need flash-flooding him, riding on bolts of lightning. It was Tinker Bell. Sweet, sexy Tinker Bell, with her—

  Hands wandering...hot breath fanning over him...moans, groans...

  Scowling, he tossed a handful of dirt into the fire. The flames sputtered and died. “You don’t need to worry about me. Like I said, I don’t want to marry anyone.”

  “You would be lucky to win White!” William huffed.

  The words penetrated Kane’s blooming rage and actually calmed him. One of his brows arched. “Now you want me to make a play for her?”

  “No. But you should want me to want you to make a play for her. She’s highly desirable.”

  “Well, I don’t want and I won’t ever want.”

  “Why? Are your ovaries swollen?”

  A bead of amusement rose in his chest, surprising him. “How has no one ever killed you?”

  There was a pause as William opened another stolen nutrition bar, stuffed half into his mouth and swallowed. “Like anyone would want to see me dead. I’m too pretty.”

  Pretty could only aid a person so long. “How many women have you been with?”

  “Countless. You?”

  “Not so many I can’t count them.”

  “That’s because you lack skill.”

  “Maybe, but at least I can control my desires. Your lust is too strong and your willpower too weak to allow you to resist anyone with a pulse.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been with plenty of people without a pulse. More than that, I say no to Gilly every day.”

  Gilly, his best friend. A human girl Reyes, the keeper of Pain, had rescued. She was only seventeen years old, and for some reason, she’d developed a crush on William. A crush that had deepened every time the warrior had come to visit the Lords, whom she lived with. She’d doctored him every time he’d gotten hurt in battle, and he’d comforted her every time she’d cried out from bad dreams, the horrors of an abusive stepfather rising to haunt her.

  Now, she called the male every morning at 8:00 a.m. to make sure he was “all right.” Translation: alone.

  He always was.

  William might take a new woman—or ten—whenever the mood stuck, but he never let the females stay the night with him. Not anymore. He didn’t want to hurt his precious Little Gilly Gumdrop’s feelings.

  Kane wasn’t sure why William took such care with the girl, when he’d never done anything sexual with her. At least, Kane didn’t think he had.

  He better not have.

  Eyes narrowed, William threw the rest of the food into the ashes. “Just remembered something. As I was packing, Danika showed up and asked me to give you the most important painting of your life.” He dug through his pack and withdrew a small, wrapped canvas.

  Danika, Reyes’s woman, possessed the ability to see into heaven and hell, past, present and future, and paint the images. Like the Moirai, her predictions had never been wrong—that he could prove.

  About ten yards away, a twig snapped.

  The Phoenix had decided to close in, he realized.

  Kane grabbed the canvas from William and stuffed it inside his own pack, then swung the whole thing over his back, using it as a shield, and lay flat on his belly. Closing one eye, he pressed the other against the night-vision scope on the rifle. In an instant, the world around him became painted with bright green.

  The Phoenix was...there. She had climbed one of the taller trees and was currently walking across one of the thicker limbs...nope, she was hopping to another limb on another tree, coming closer and closer, clearly trying to sneak up on him.

  Mine, Disaster said with a possessive growl, and Kane frowned.

  Another mine?

  The female looked to be five foot nine and sc
antily dressed, considering the weather. She wore a bralike top and tiny shorts, and there were two daggers tied to her calves, two sheathed in her combat boots.

  Kane tracked her for a moment, watched as she paused and reached for one of the hilts. Never bring a knife to a gun fight, sweetness. You’ll lose every time. He squeezed the trigger.

  Boom!

  He was a great shot and knew he’d grazed her thigh before he even heard her shriek of pain. He leaped up and started running. By the time she hit the ground, gasping for breath, he was there, in her face. She was pretty. Blonde. Bold. Though he would have rather bathed in acid, he pressed his arm into her throat, making it even more difficult for her to take in any air, and patted her down to discard all of her weapons.

  There were more than he’d realized. Eleven daggers. Two guns. Three throwing stars. Two vials of poison. A bag of pills. Detachable metal claws. And the makings of a bomb hidden in the soles of her shoes.

  He tried not to be impressed.

  Working quickly, he bound her wrists with a rope of chain he’d been using as a belt and tied her to the base of the tree. The moment he finished, he jolted away from her, severing contact. Already his stomach was churning, sickness brewing. But at least he didn’t experience the pain Tinker Bell caused.

  A swarm of bees darted from the trees, circling Kane’s head. Disaster laughed.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  The girl kicked out her uninjured leg, swiped only at air. “Let me go!”

  “I doubt that’s your name. Try again.”

  “I had no plans to hurt you,” she snarled, her struggles increasing. Heat radiated from her, such intense heat, and it was only getting stronger. Any moment now, she would catch fire with flames as hot as those in hell and melt the metal links. “I only want to hurt Josephina. Now, I’ll kill you and enslave the girl.”

  “Josephina?” A sting in his neck. He slapped at the wound, and a bee stung him on the wrist.

  “As if you don’t know the girl you’re following. The Fae.”

  His rescuer’s name was Josephina. Pretty. But he liked Tinker Bell better. “You want to enslave her, do you?” Was that why the girl had a death wish? She feared what the Phoenix would do to her?

  Buzz, buzz.

  Sting. Sting.