A small price to pay to stay together.
They’d met in Ancient Greece, a time when Galen had warred with the Lords of the Underworld. Thirteen immortal warriors possessed by demons of their own. Aeron, Torin, Maddox, Amun, Reyes, Baden, Strider, Paris, Cameo, Gideon, Kane, Lucien, and Sabin. Once his closest friends and allies. Then his greatest enemies. Now…friends again?
As Galen ushered Legion through the tunnel, his life flashed before his eyes, different memories playing through his mind.
--The time of his “birth.” Zeus, supreme sovereign of Greek gods, created a host of warriors to act as his personal guard. Men and women willing to destroy anyone who threatened their leader.
--Zeus deciding to entrust one guard—Pandora—with a mysterious box made of bone, causing jealousy to spread through the ranks like wildfire.
Galen had questioned the king about the decision. He’d never forgotten the response. Should I place my most treasured possession in your hands? You, the most disappointing of my children. Do you think your hesitation to render a deathblow has gone unnoticed?
Back then, he’d wondered why they killed rather than incarcerated. Why waste a life? Wasn’t redemption possible?
Now he knew better. Be the one to slay, or get slain. There was no middle ground.
--Galen deciding to prove his worth by stealing and opening the box, and inviting his friends to participate.
--Entertaining second thoughts, wondering how could they betray Pandora so blatantly.
--Asking the other warriors to stand down. They’d refused.
--In a snit, and confessing the plan to Zeus.
But the warning had come too late. Maddox had already opened the box, unleashing a horde of demons upon an unsuspecting world.
As punishment, Zeus forced each Lord to host a single demon. Except for Galen, of course, since he’d instigated the entire mess.
--Being kicked from the heavens, the other Lords banding together to shun Galen.
--The demons devouring Galen’s good sense.
He’d created an army of humans hell-bent on annihilating “evil” immortals.
--Finding and caring for Fox, a five-year-old orphan with an ability he’d hoped to one day exploit, then falling in love with her somewhere along the way.
--Finding out he had a daughter by blood. Gwendolyn, a beautiful Harpy who’d married Sabin, demon keeper of Doubt.
Guilt pricked the back of his neck. He’d treated Gwen like garbage, knowing a connection to him often equated to a death sentence.
--Meeting Legion and calling a cease fire with the Lords, ending their centuries’ old feud. He even had an open-ish invitation to crash at their place whenever needed.
Wait. Why was he reliving these things? Am I dying?
The tremors in his limbs intensified, and he stumbled. If not for Legion, he would have toppled. Though she looked delicate, she had enough strength to keep him upright.
“Maybe we should rest?” she said, panting.
He spit out another mouthful of blood before grunting a denial.
She readjusted the backpack’s strap, the weight of it only adding to their burden. Again he tried to claim it. Again she refused. Very well.
The faint squeak of rotted wood echoed as different soldiers descended the steps. Great! The army had followed them into the tunnel.
Up ahead, a spear of azure light sliced through the air. The fabric of time and space peeled back to reveal a doorway into another realm. Fox stood on the other side, tall and slender with jet-black hair and arresting features. She wore a halter top and black leather pants, and clutched a dagger in each hand; she looked every inch the bad ass. No woman fought dirtier, or impressed Galen more.
Relief provided a final surge of strength. He pumped his legs faster…faster.
Fox spotted Legion and cursed. The two had met once before, after Galen had kidnapped Legion’s friend Ashlyn—wife to Maddox, keeper of Violence. Legion had offered herself in trade. At the time, she’d feared Galen and hated Fox. The feeling had been mutual for Fox, who abhorred weakness of any kind.
Galen usually abhorred weakness, too. But. When it came to Legion, nothing mattered but the woman herself.
“Hurry.” Fox waved him on while peering over his shoulder. “They’re gaining on you.”
A tremor pitched Legion against him. She attempted a backward glance, but Galen pushed past the spike of pain—too much, too much, breathe—and flared his broken wings, blocking her view. No reason to frighten her further. At the same time, he gathered her closer and pressed her face into the hollow of his neck.
Sips protested the close proximity, scratching the hell out of Galen’s pec.
“Behave, young man,” Legion muttered. “I mean, young boy. I mean, young raccoon. Galen is trying to save us.”
Trying? No. Succeeding? Yes.
At last, they slipped through the mystical doorway, entering one of his many private realms. His favorite. A fortress built to withstand any natural or supernatural disaster.
The moment the portal closed, blocking out the soldiers, Legion’s safety guaranteed, Galen collapsed, welcoming the cloud of darkness that swallowed him whole.
Chapter Four
Legion watched, wide-eyed, as Fox dragged Galen into a spacious bedroom. With teeth gritted and tendons bulging in her neck, the other woman managed to heft the big brute onto a bed. Shaking now, she cut away his clothes to study his wounds. For some reason, he had stacks of paper underneath his shirt and leathers. Fox muttered curses about fool men endangering themselves for a quick roll in the hay and peeled away one blood-splattered sheet after another.
Close the distance. Help the man who helped you. Come on! But Legion stood rooted in place, quaking violently, clutching Sips to her chest, her mind whirling. Why had Galen saved her? There was no man more calculating or self-serving, so he must have a reason. Right? And yes, okay, his letters claimed he wanted her sexually, but physical desire wasn’t a good enough reason to risk his life.
Although, to be fair, she could have died blissed-out the night Galen took her virginity. The sex had been hot and charged and good. Nothing like the travesty she’d suffered in hell.
Warning! Avoid! Memories of torture would put her in a fugue state.
Galen’s agonized roar echoed from the walls, and she jolted, stumbling back. What if he… died?
She gulped. Once, she would have paid good money to witness his demise. Well, maybe not good money, but a pretty penny. Well, maybe not a pretty penny, either. Money bought jewels, and Legion loved jewels. Now? Their brief romp had prime real estate in her portfolio of wise decisions. Suddenly the idea of never seeing him again, never hearing his voice gutted her.
No. He would survive. He would!
Minutes later—an eternity—Galen mumbled questions about the realm’s security.
Fox snapped, “Don’t worry about an invasion. Worry about my temper. I told you not to leave the house. Someone put a contract on your life and—”
“Multiple someones,” he replied, the words slurred. “A usual occurrence. Did you find out who?”
“Yes. You can thank Cronus 2.0. The bastard cloned himself before his death.”
Galen heaved a sigh and slurred a response.
Legion thought he said: “Contact Sienna. And do not hurt my guest.”
Even now, wracked with pain, he sought to secure her safety? A tear escaped, sliding down her cheek.
“Legion. Honey.” Two names, two words—both innocent—and yet Fox had somehow turned them into curses. Her slate gray gaze shot to Legion and narrowed, though she still spoke directly to Galen. “Whatever her name, I don’t trust her.”
“You don’t…trust anyone.” His breaths turned shallow, more labored.
“Har har,” Fox said, her tone as dry as the desert. “Why do you care about her? Tell me! Help me understand, because I want, I need, to kill her.”
Yes, Galen. Tell us!
And maybe I should run before Fox makes g
ood on her threat?
He replied, forcing Legion to translate: “For the first time in my existence, I have a purpose. I am fulfilled, satisfied, and content… when I get inside her.”
Either he didn’t mind making such a confession with Legion in the room, or he’d lost sight of everything but Fox and his pain.
“Gee. Thanks, Dad,” Fox said. “Happy to know I’ve never added value to your life, and you care more about the girl with the magic—”
“Enough. Do not hurt… her, even with… words.” He closed his eyes, his head lolling to the side.
Fox straightened and stalked closer to Legion. Concern darkened the other woman’s eyes, while tension wove over her angular features.
The same tension plagued Legion, seeming to turn her limbs into boulders. She couldn’t move. Hurry! Before Fox strikes. But Galen’s friend…lover?... never attacked. She simply said, “If you enter this room, I’ll make sure you leave it in a body bag.” That said, she slammed the door in Legion’s face.
Freedom beckoned. She could leave the home without having to fight her way out. Fox wouldn’t know, or care. Galen wouldn’t know, either, though he would care. But, in his condition, he could do nothing to stop her.
She expected a storm of relief.
Waiting…
Still waiting…
All she felt? Trepidation. What fresh horrors awaited her outside these walls?
Well, then. She would stay put.
Now relief stormed through her.
Sips scratched and bit her arm. Racoon speak for, Put me down, you fool.
“Okay, okay.” After setting him on the floor, he scratched and bit her leg, just for giggles. As she protested, he ran away.
Rather than explore the house, Legion shut herself in the bedroom next to Galen’s and unpacked her jewels. Precious treasures she considered a part of her family. All the while, the warrior’s incredible scent teased her. Summer storms, dark spices, and masculine musk.
Maybe her stay here wouldn’t be so bad.
* * * *
Days passed in a haze of sleepiness and anguish. Legion’s nightmares returned full force. Sips the Traitor never visited the spacious chamber, leaving her alone, afraid, and betrayed. Why did she even miss that stupid raccoon?
Easy. He was a total dick, yes, but he was her dick.
Wait, that sounded wrong. Whatever! Her only comfort came from her jewels. Stroke the precious.
Galen bellowed a string of curses, and she flinched, her stomach flip-flopping. He roared every time he woke up. Aiding the warrior ceased being a simple desire—it became a complicated need. But how? As a former demon who’d specialized in maximizing her victim’s pain, she had nothing to offer.
“Fox! Get your ass in here.” His ragged voice wasn’t as slurred as before. Had part of his tongue already grown back? “Make it stop.”
Helplessness bombarded Legion. She had to think this through. To think it through, she’d have to first clear the debris from her head. Maybe she’d take a walk.
She peeked out her bedroom’s only window, a sea of white greeting her. Clouds? Had Galen taken her to a level of the heavens, where Sent Ones hunted her kind for sport?
Okay, no walk. She shrank back and pressed her back against the wall. Inhale, exhale.
A self-help book had mentioned the merits of focusing on a monotonous activity, so she gave that a try and counted furniture. One: a four-poster bed with a feather-soft mattress and lovely pink canopy. Two: a vanity embedded with colorful gemstones. Three: a wardrobe overflowing with ball gowns. Four, five, six: jewelry boxes filled to the brim. Seven: a nightstand made of mother-of-pearl.
Her heart rate slowed, fear ebbing. This room seemed tailor-made for her, as if the designer had reached inside her brain and rooted through her preferences. Galen’s doing?
The only flaw? The lack of books. In hell, reading was forbidden. But on one of Hades’s rare visits to the cabin, he’d given her an iPod loaded with “how to” programs, and it hadn’t taken long for the lessons to click. Now, Legion loved to read, to discover new worlds without ever leaving the safety of her home. No matter how savage, no matter how brutal, a romance novel hero never hurt his heroine, his icy exterior melting for her alone.
Am I Galen’s heroine?
Did she want to be?
Clear your head and find out!
Fox’s voice seeped through the walls, snagging her attention. “First you have to get better, but you’re not getting better. Why aren’t you getting better, Galen?”
Acid burned Legion’s chest. Before, she’d worried Galen might die. Today, the possibility seemed more certain.
No. No! He would survive this, if only to save Legion from Fox. In books, the heroes never…or rarely died. Just depended on whether or not the author wanted Legion to track her down and complain! Although, Galen probably qualified as the villain, and villains always got axed.
Why not explore the house, clearing her head and mapping out an escape route, just in case?
Legion inched into the hallway, her feet as heavy as cinder blocks. Deep breath in, out. Good, that was good. A step forward, pause. Another step, pause. When she turned the corner and nothing bad happened, some of her tension drained. Steps lighter, she motored on, peeking into rooms and investigating the state-of-the-art appliances and expensive decor.
Galen had excellent taste, that was for sure. She recognized Qianlong and Ming Dynasty vases, exquisite Persian rugs, and priceless artwork collectors would probably commit terrible crimes to own. Artwork she vaguely remembered being reported stolen over the centuries.
Her host also possessed a wealth of technological marvels, reminiscent of the robotic birds he’d sent to the cabin. In a workroom, she found tables cluttered with tools, all kinds of metals, and different robots in varying stages of completion.
When she came upon an office, she nearly wept with joy. So. Many. Books. The mothership. Her new happy place. Maybe she could find a medical guide for immortals.
She searched the shelves, excitement morphing into disappointment. Nearly every tome dealt with war, torture, or overcoming a traumatic past.
What kind of traumas had he suffered in his long, long life? If his experiences had been anything like hers… An unexpected pang of sympathy speared her.
Focus! Maybe she would fire off a message to Aeron and Olivia to let them know she’d left the cabin, and ask if they knew how to save Galen’s life.
And give the couple a chance to attack the warrior while he couldn’t defend himself? No.
A book without a title caught her attention. She flipped through the pages, her eyes widening. A scrapbook about Gwendolyn the Fierce, Galen’s daughter. The pages were filled with photographs of Gwen from the age of four-ish to adulthood.
He’d only recently found out about her, and he’d claimed to want nothing to do with her. Yet he’d dug so deeply into her past? Why would he hide—
“He’s not getting better.” The familiar voice spilled through the office, interrupting Legion’s thoughts.
Jolting, she spun to face the threat. A fatigued Fox occupied the open doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, Sips purring as he wound around her feet like a cat.
Fear squeezed Legion’s throat. Her heart thudded against her ribs, and nausea churned in her stomach. For a moment, her mind transported back to hell, when she’d been Lucifer’s prisoner.
—a blindfold covered her eyes as a blade sliced into her torso. She screamed and fought to no avail. Demons cackled with glee—
—hot, fetid breath fanned her ear…fangs scraped between her breasts before sinking deep—
“No!” she shouted, struggling to breathe.
Fox gave her a withering glare.
Inhale, exhale. Tears burned her eyes. Legion hated being this girl. Once upon a time, she had faced every challenge with bravery and confidence. Nothing had frightened her.
“Calm down,” Fox demanded. Taller than Legion by several inches and r
egal in a way few people could mimic, she didn’t just command a room—she commanded all she surveyed. “I think Galen was poisoned while saving your worthless life.”
A spark of anger torched the last vestiges of the past, a remnant of the old Legion snapping, “Or maybe you’re just a crappy caregiver?”
“Wrong. I’m a mediocre caregiver. Now tell me what happened.” Black lines branched from her eye sockets, a sign of fury, and a consequence of the demon she carried within.
“Around my house, there were wards designed to cause temporary brain bleeds and confusion, so that any attackers would forget me.” Why hadn’t Galen forgotten her? “As soon as we exited the cabin, Galen should have healed from that. As for his other injuries…I only saw an arrow pierce his wing. Everything else comes from battles he waged before he reached me.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “If Lucifer sent the army, then Galen was poisoned.”
Even saying the Destroyer’s name left a foul taste in her mouth, but the suspicion of poison proved far worse. If only fear hadn’t scrambled her brain, she would have realized it sooner!
She could have saved Galen days of anguish. If he’d reached the point of no return, reviving him would no longer be possible. Was she already too late?
“You still think Cronus is responsible?” she asked, hopeful.
“Yes. He probably used the same methods as the Prince of Darkness. Villains do learn from each other. So, tell me about the poison,” Fox insisted. “Where can I find an antidote?”
“La pire mort. The worst death. The poison won’t deactivate until Galen is dead. And there isn’t an antidote.”
Fox popped her jaw. Her hands fisted. “There has to be—”
“There isn’t.” Legion shook her head to punctuate her words, strands of hair slapping her cheeks. La pire mort provided an unescapable doom. “To save him, we’ll have to kill him.”
“No. Absolutely not. You’re lying. You’d say anything to orchestrate his death.”
“Then,” she continued as if Fox hadn’t spoken, “we’ll have to revive him.” There was no other way.
Anguish colored Fox’s expression. “Say you’re right. The moment he dies, the demons will leave him. When the demons leave him, there’ll be a grand total of zero ways to revive him.”
The Darkest Captive Page 4
