Chitter-chitter. Now there is a good, solid name with lots of nickname potential. Liv. Oli. Olive. Via.
“Are you even listening to me?” Legion demanded with a stomp of her foot.
You resent Aeron for rejecting you, yada yada.
Well, he wasn’t wrong. “With time running out, I made one more attempt to win Aeron’s heart… by stopping the heart of his greatest enemy, Galen. I know, I know. A heart is a super cliché gift. But come on! It was my first romantic gesture.”
Finally! Things are getting interesting. Go on.
“I tracked Galen to a mortal bar, and lured him into the ladies’ bathroom, where I kissed him. To distract him. But that man knows what to do with his tongue. Once we started sucking face, I only wanted more. So, me being me, I took more. I took everything. He popped my berry. That’s what humans call the losing of one’s virginity, yes?”
Sips snickered. You nailed it. Galen popped your berry good.
‘Good’ did not begin to describe it. “Afterward, I got my act together and bit him, injecting him with my venom. But deep down I think I kinda sorta wanted him to survive. Not that it mattered either way. Aeron picked Olivia, and I lost the bet with Lucifer.”
Legion staved off a well of tears. The Prince of Darkness had beaten and violated her in the worst ways. Then he’d let his armies do the same.
Memories surged, unbidden. Hands tied behind my back. A gag stuffed into my mouth. Clothing ripped away. Laughter abounding.
Her throat constricted, cutting off her airway. The things the demons had done to her…the way they’d taunted her…all the sickening ways they’d broken her spirit, soul, and body.
Aeron and a few others had come to her rescue, but by then, she’d been a shell of herself.
Poor Legion. A porcelain doll, shattered into a million little pieces.
Her gaze found the letters Galen had mailed via the robotic birds, the pages stacked on a bright pink desk. She’d drafted and trashed countless replies. What could she tell him, really? The day she’d met him was the last time she’d experienced excitement. She’d had fun with him.
She’d forgotten for a while, but now that she’d remembered… she craved more. Needed more. There was a slight problem, hardly worth mentioning, but, uh, the thought of being with a man, any man, made her physically ill.
“Galen is a bad person,” she said. “The worst of the worst. He needs someone who has a moral compass. My compass is kind of broken. Or nonexistent.” Raised in hell, she’d learned that harming others was a privilege, and screams of agony the perfect lullaby. If you kept your word, you were a fool in need of punishment. If you intentionally helped someone, you were a fool in need of punishment. If you told the truth, you were—yep—a fool in need of punishment. “He’s conceited, arrogant, and a total douche…but still I want to give him a chance. Why?”
Chitter. Possible translation: You hate the person you’ve become. Deep down, you know the only way to have a different life is to do something different. Galen certainly qualifies as different.
Or maybe the proper translation was: You dumb.
“To go on a single date with Galen, I’ll have to leave the cabin for good.” Here, she felt brave, like the Legion of old. Outside, she feared everything. “The second I leave, I’ll negate Hades’s wards.” He’d said he’d owed someone a favor and that, by aiding Legion, he’d fulfilled his obligation, and therefore would never waste time reactivating the wards. “Is being with Galen worth abandoning the protection of the cabin?”
Only if you enjoy pleasure.
She did. And she didn’t. Physically ill, remember?
Sighing, she adjusted the tiara pinned to her braids. Sparkle—a mandatory addition to every girl’s wardrobe. “It would be nice to have a supportive partner.” The way Aeron worshiped and adored Olivia...
On paper, the couple seemed odd. The innocent angel and the erotic demon. In person, they fit together seamlessly.
“Aeron has become a brother to me. A lollipop of man-candy, sure, but still a brother. It’s just…he used to make me feel safe.” Now? The honor belonged to the cabin. A one-sided pairing. But Galen had potential. He was so incredibly strong, he could hold her with one muscular arm and keep the world at bay with the other. “The difference is, I can trust what I feel with Aeron, but I can’t trust anything I feel with Galen.”
What was real, and what was manufactured by his demons?
A strange stillness came over Sips, the hairs on his back standing at attention. Tension thickened the air.
“What’s wrong?” she rasped, her heart jumping.
His claws tapped against the wooden floor as he crossed the living room. He leaped and landed on the windowsill, then peered out the glass. The sun had begun to rise, casting muted golden beams over the forest outside.
Chitter, chitter. Uh-oh. Incoming.
The front door burst open, wood shards raining down. Legion gasped. A bloody Galen loomed in the opening, a scowl twisting his face.
Her knees knocked together, a mix of fear and fascination storming through her. Galen. Here.
As tall and pumped-up with muscle as always, but not as immaculate. Tangled white-blond hair and ocean-water eyes glittered with menace and pain. Blood splattered his shirt and leather pants.
She’d called him beautiful, but she’d been wrong. He. Was. Exquisite. The muted sunlight created a halo-effect, turning him into a fallen angel. Sinister, treacherous—and clearly in pain. The moment he’d stepped onto the porch, he’d had to go toe-to-toe with Hades’s wards.
According to her landlord, those wards would make a man feel as if his head was a bread bowl filled with brain soup.
She gulped. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you,” Galen grated, his voice deep, husky, and anguished. “Let’s go.”
Wires in her brain seemed to flicker to life, reminding her of something she’d once learned about this man. Long ago, he’d strapped his immortals to a table for weeks or months at a time, cut out different organs, and placed those organs in jars so the victim could always see them.
Go with that guy? “No,” she said. Do not panic. Remain calm, aware, and alert. Her dagger. Where was her dagger?
“If you want to live,” he said, stepping inside the cabin, “you’ll come with me. Now.”
Chapter Three
Galen hadn’t seen Legion in so long, the sight of her affected him on a deep, primitive level. Like a punch to the soul. With spiked metal gloves.
Her beauty stole his breath.
Shock and lust momentarily overshadowed the throbbing pain in his temples. Those damn wards. As he fought their mystical hold, he drank in all that was Legion Honey. A waterfall of dark blonde hair, topped by a diamond tiara. Those whiskey-brown eyes now wide with astonishment. Those perfect heart-shaped lips remained parted, as if desperate for a kiss.
She had the face of an angel and the body of a porn star, and he wanted to pray and sin at the same time.
Despite the gravity of their situation, Galen took the time to give her luscious body the languid once-over it deserved. As she panted, her plump breasts rose and fell with rapid succession. Her nipples beaded. She wore an elaborate pink ball gown with a corset top and plunging neckline, the skirt embroidered with roses. On her feet—furry house-boots. A sapphire choker circled her neck, and multiple ruby bands adorned her wrists, adding another layer of sweetness to the whole saint-and-sinner package.
No question, this woman had been created with Galen’s seduction—and downfall—in mind.
His knees quaked, threatening to buckle. As his level of pain intensified, his eyesight hazed. He swallowed a roar of fury and frustration. Not done looking at Legion!
Determined to reach his quarry, to save her, he fought more fervently. Stay upright. Ignore the aches. Push one foot forward, then the other…
Finally! Movement. Muscles unlocked from bone, and he stumbled into the foyer.
The wards fought b
ack, hard, melting his brain. Something warm and wet dripped from his eyes…his nose…his ears. He frowned and reached up, his fingers trembling. A swift swipe revealed copious amounts of blood.
Both demons wailed, the pain cutting through them.
Legion looked Galen over and flinched. Voice hoarse, she said, “I wasn’t sure…I thought I could…I can’t! You should leave. You must leave.”
“Not going…anywhere…without you.” The pain crested, searing agony consuming every inch of him. Still he moved forward, stumbling deeper into the cabin. A surge of adrenaline acted as fuel, keeping him on his feet. “There’s another army…coming for you.”
The color drained from her face as she scrambled away from him. A reaction he abhorred with every fiber of his being. He longed to shout, Do not run from me. Come closer.
“Another army?” she said between wheezing breaths.
“I slaughtered the first. You’re welcome.”
A raccoon jumped off the window, inspected Galen up and down, and yawned. There was something odd about the animal, though. An energy he’d never before encountered.
No time to ponder the reason. A brutal force knocked him to his knees, a brand new pain lancing the arch of his wing. He’d been plugged by an arrow, he realized.
Well, hell. The second army had arrived.
He glanced over his shoulder. Roughly a mile away, soldiers exited the forest and unleashed a volley of spears. With a curse, Galen slammed the door shut.
Thunk, thunk, thunk.
The tips came out the other side. He moved to the center of the room while yanking the projectile out of his wing. A river of crimson gushed from the wound.
“We are minutes from invasion,” he grated.
“Impossible. This is a trick.” She rushed around him to peer out the window. Shudders wracked her. “The soldiers probably work for you.”
Galen followed and glanced over her shoulder. Sunlight illuminated more than a hundred men with crossbows, swords, and spears.
“You think I’d ever allow my men to harm me?” he snapped.
The next shudder nearly knocked her off her feet. “All right. Yes. Just…stay here. I’ll grab my go-bag.”
“Leave everything behind.”
Fury exploded in her eyes. “My jewels. Mine.”
A show of spirit, over jewelry? Color him intrigued. He held up his hands, palms out. “Do what you must. But hurry.”
Realizing she’d all but challenged him, she withered. Then she sprinted from the room, the soft pitter-patter of her footsteps resonating.
What if she ditched him?
No matter. I will find her.
Palming two daggers, he scanned the living room. A homey nook with well-loved furniture: a floral print couch, two recliners, a coffee table with golden turtles under each leg, and a fluffy ottoman. Posters decorated the walls, each one depicting a different forest animal in lingerie.
Some kind of raccoon porn?
On both sides of the marble hearth, bookcases displayed a collection of how-to guides and fiction. How to read, how to utilize proper etiquette, how to “grammar properly,” and the complete collection of works by Jill Monroe, Kresley Cole, and PC Cast.
In the far corner was a cluttered desk. Beside it, a small trashcan with one… five… ten…fifteen crumpled up pieces of paper. Curiosity got the better of him. The ends of his wings brushed the floor as he stalked over, every step a new lesson in anguish.
Ignore the pain. Focus on the papers, the words.
When he read the first two words—Dear Galen—shock jolted him. Legion could read and write, and she had responded to him, she just hadn’t mailed them via robo-express. Knowing she hadn’t left him hanging soothed his heart. In a totally manly way. Super manly.
He’d never been a good guy, but what the hell. He would do Legion a major solid and hand-deliver the letters to himself, saving her time and postage. He stuffed as many sheets of paper as possible underneath his shirt. Because why not? Perfect timing. Legion returned, a backpack slung over her shoulder.
He confiscated the pack. Or tried to. She growled at him and snapped, “Mine!”
She really liked her jewels. Got it.
When she spotted his blood-soaked daggers, she lost her fire. She opened her mouth, then closed it, only a strangled sound escaping.
He fought a scowl. “These blades will never harm you. They will only ever protect you.”
The tension didn’t leave her. She scooped up the raccoon before croaking, “We’re ready.”
Even more baggage. Perfect. “We’ll go out the back door and—”
“No.” Once again, she went from kitten to lioness in .02 seconds. “You will follow me.”
He almost smiled. How he’d missed her passion and zest for life.
She hurried through the small cabin and stopped inside a bedroom, where she kicked a rug out of the way, revealing a hidden latch. “There’s a tunnel below the house.”
“Where does it lead?”
“A mortal dimension with creepy-ass rodents. Hades’s words, not mine. He says this is an emergency escape hatch only.” She chewed on her bottom lip, glancing from the hatch to the door. “Maybe we should split up. You know, to better our odds of success. I’ll take the tunnel, and you take the back door. Okay? Yes?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you want to survive the coming attack?”
She gulped as if he’d just issued a threat. Nodded.
“Then we stay together.” Injured muscles protested as he opened the latch. Rusted hinges popped and warped wood groaned, a murky pit soon revealed.
Dust motes danced up, up, carrying a musty odor. Light spilled from a lantern that hung from a wall hook, highlighting a set of decrepit stairs. The bottom…too dark to see.
“Climb down and wait for me,” he commanded. He would have preferred to go first and clear the way, if necessary, but Legion wasn’t strong enough to close the hatch.
“Climb down…by myself? You were right. We need to stick together.” Sweat beaded on her brow and upper lip, while her cheeks bleached of color. “I—I…can’t be trapped…won’t…”
He understood her panicked reaction. Trauma could forever alter your reaction to old and new situations. “I once spent a hundred years trapped in a grave,” he said. “Feeling helpless isn’t my idea of a good time, either, but there’s no time to argue.”
Footsteps resounded in the distance, the army closing in fast.
Galen ripped the sheet from the bed, tied one end around the hatch’s handle and fisted the other end, then yanked Legion against the hard line of his body, careful not to smash the freeloading raccoon. She gasped—unsurprising. The shocker? She also melted against him, as if suddenly comforted by his presence. The feel of her…
Focus! Right. He tightened his hold—and jumped into the pit.
As they fell, the sheet pulled taut and the lid closed with a heavy thud, sealing them inside the tomb-like tunnel. The light in the lantern snuffed out.
When the sheet lost all slack, the material ripped from his grip. He flared his injured wings, despite the pain, attempting to slow their momentum, but the walls were too close together, and he accomplished nothing. Left with no other recourse, he enfolded Legion inside the soft cushion provided by his feathers and angled their bodies, ensuring he would be the one to—
Impact!
He hit first. Legion smashed into him, the heavy backpack adding to her weight. Numerous bones snapped. His wings broke and twisted. Multiple organs ruptured, a new round of agony searing him. The taste of old pennies coated his tongue, and he was pretty sure blood leaked from his every orifice.
“You okay?” The words were slurred, and he realized he’d bitten off half his tongue.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she rushed out. “Sips?”
The raccoon said, “Eeeee, eeeee.”
He’d take that to mean, I’m fine.
Galen spit out a mouthful of blood, the piece of tongue, and maybe a
tooth. Releasing Legion, he labored to unsteady legs. Dizziness flooded him, and stars winked across his sightline. Must remain conscious. Can’t pass out until my woman is safe.
My woman? As if we are a done deal?
As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he noticed flickering light about a hundred feet ahead. He took Legion’s hand and kicked into motion, taking stock of his surroundings along the way. The tunnel reminded him of an old, abandoned subway station. Graffiti on the walls, rats scurrying this way and that. Nothing creepy-ass about—
Nope. Never mind. The rats had horns. And fangs. And forked tails.
With his free hand, he dug the cell phone out of his pocket and fired off a text to Fox.
Probs dying, def being chased. Need pick up for 2 ASAP
He’d trained himself to text blindfolded, and with one hand, whether left or right. He also paid handsomely to use mystical Wi-Fi, so he could message anyone, any time. Note to self: add Legion to his monthly bill.
The phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, and relief washed over him.
Fox: Did my baby boy get an owie? No worries, I’ll track & find you
Cheeky little wench. But then, they’d been together for centuries, had seen the best in each other, and the worst. Had fought side-by-side, and saved each other countless times.
Fox was a Gatekeeper, able to open a portal anywhere. A secret they’d kept for centuries. Gatekeepers had a limited lifespan known as a rotation. Roughly two thousand years. When she’d reached the end of her rotation, Galen had helped her acquire the demon of Distrust to ensure she lived forever.
It hadn’t taken long for the demon to begin changing her personality, as Galen had expected. Fewer smiles and jokes. Darker temper tantrums. Much darker. Moments of black-out rage.
The Darkest Captive Page 3
