The Darkest Captive

by Gena Showalter

  “Wrong. We can force the pair to stay put.” Before Legion’s semi-human transformation, Aeron had summoned her from the depths of hell and kept her trapped in a circle of salt and sugar. The mixture blistered demon flesh in ways fire could not. “Galen will revive.” He must. “I’m doing this. Get on board or get out of my way.”

  Brave words from a cowardly girl. Still, she stormed past Fox, who—shocker—didn’t try to stop her, and stomped down the hall. In the kitchen, she hunted for a bag of sugar and a container of salt. Only half-filled.

  Oh, look. She’d thought half-filled rather than half-empty. That was new. Anyway. Half wouldn’t form a complete circle around Galen, so, she gathered up the garlic salt, celery salt, and soy sauce as well.

  “You planning to cook him for dinner after you murder him?” Fox asked.

  “Dibs on his liver,” she muttered, then marched down the hall a second time.

  As she entered the bedroom, Fox stayed close. Sickness coated the air, stinging her nostrils. Galen writhed on a blood-soaked bed, his wings tangled with the sheets. He coughed and wheezed, crimson droplets spraying from his mouth.

  Her chest constricted, guilt prickling the back of her neck once again. She’d let him languish in this condition, doing nothing.

  She deserved to suffer like this.

  After pouring a complete circle of salt and sugar around his body—yes!—she settled at his side, careful not to disrupt the granules. The heavy odor of garlic made her nose itch.

  “Why sugar and salt?” Fox demanded. An obvious default setting.

  “You know how some people are allergic to peanuts? Exactly like that, but totally different.” She smoothed a trembling hand over Galen’s brow, brushing back a lock of silver-blond hair. Torment etched his yellowed skin, rousing concern and compassion, overriding every other emotion. “I need a dagger.”

  The nausea returned with a vengeance. She hadn’t held a weapon in a very long time. Had never wanted to hold one again. For Galen, though, she would do it. She owed him. But after this they would be even. 100%.

  “I hope it goes without saying that I will remove your head if he doesn’t revive,” Fox grated.

  She remembered a time when she would have looked at Fox, smiled, and ripped out the other woman’s trachea. Now? She wilted like rose petals in scorching heat. “Threats aren’t helping.”

  “I wasn’t threatening.” All rage and apprehension, Fox unsheathed a blade and slapped the hilt into Legion’s upturned palm. “I was explaining the situation.”

  “I—I will kill him, and you will revive him. Deal?” Galen…dead…even for a few seconds…

  “I have no experience with the latter.”

  Tension stole through her, her calm façade cracking. Why did she continue to care about this man? He wasn’t misunderstood; he was bad to the bone. Over the centuries, he’d betrayed his friends, separated a multitude of mates, and harmed even more innocents. Men and women worldwide would rejoice at his death. She would be touted as a hero.

  Legion still didn’t know why he wanted her, either, or what he planned to do with her, but it couldn’t be good, right? What if he used her against Aeron and the other Lords? What if he gave her back to Lucifer and collected the bounty on her head? What if he traded her—her life in exchange for a favor? What if he only wanted to punish her for once trying to kill him?

  Fear flash-froze her blood. But…what if he’d meant what he’d written in those letters, and he yearned to spend more time with her? Longed to protect her. Because he craved her, body and soul, and hungered for her touch.

  Could she touch him again, without remembering the terrible things she’d suffered soon afterward?

  She didn’t know, but thought she might maybe probably kinda sorta…want to find out.

  A raspy moan slipped from his chapped lips—the death rattle. Running out of time.

  “Let me help you, Galen,” she whispered. “Let me ease your pain.”

  His lashes fluttered open, his gaze finding her. Recognition brightened in those ocean-water depths, followed by happiness. “You…worth it,” he whispered back.

  He found worth in her? Her? She had put the happiness in his eyes?

  Her chest clenched. Maybe he did crave her.

  “I’m so sorry,” she told him. “For everything I’ve done…and will do.” With a fresh stream of hot tears scorching her cheeks, she placed the tip of the dagger at his heart. Deep breath in…

  The happiness vanished. “You…betray?”

  CLENCH. “Please understand. There’s no other way to make you better.”

  He reached up to clasp her wrist, his grip loose, weak.

  “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, raw and ragged. Do it!

  Exhaling, she pushed the blade deep and twisted. He used his final breath to curse her. His head lolled to the side, his eyes staring somewhere beyond her, as if he didn’t want her face to be the last thing he saw.

  Galen the Magnificent died exactly as he’d lived: a heartbreaker.

  The demons rose from his body, two dark clouds with skeletal faces and neon red eyes. Pure, undiluted hatred emanated from the pair, and she stumbled back.

  When the demons scented the salt and sugar, they dove back into Galen to hide.

  “Hurry, hurry.” Every second mattered.

  Fox swooped in to get to work.

  “Heal him.” This time, Legion was the one to issue a demand. “Heal him now.” Or else.

  Chapter Five

  Galen awoke with a roar of denial brewing at the back of his throat. After centuries of training, he had the wherewithal to cut off the sound before it escaped. No need to alert a nearby foe that he was up and ready to kick ass.

  He jolted upright and flared his wings, preparing for flight. A lance of pain heralded a wave of dizziness and hazy vision. Flight proved impossible, and also unnecessary. He thought he might be in his bedroom. The one next to the chamber he’d prepared for Legion’s stay. As he eased back down, he recognized the softness of the mattress and comforter.

  Aches and pains plagued his battered body, his muscles screaming in protest. His lungs struggled to inflate, as if the organs had been dipped in wet cement.

  What the hell had happened to him? And why did his room smell like a chicken wing buffet?

  He blinked rapidly, a wealth of memories taking shape in his head. Multiple battles and injuries. Legion’s rescue. Losing his tongue and tooth—both had grown back. Fox. A portal home. A dagger to the heart?

  He did have a slightly warped heartbeat. Frowning, he scrubbed a hand over his sternum. No wound.

  When his vision cleared, he gave the room a cursory scan. Yep. His. Except for the blood-soaked dagger resting on the nightstand, nothing had changed since his last visit.

  That dagger solidified his suspicion. He had been stabbed. Who would dare—

  The memory crystalized, and he growled. Legion had wielded the weapon.

  The object of his obsession had tried to kill him. Again! She had apologized and cried, but she hadn’t stopped driving that dagger into his heart.

  Darkness had enveloped his mind, so much darkness, and he’d seemed to fall, fall into an endless abyss. Then lights had flashed and Fox had screamed from far away. Come back to me, or I’ll kill Legion. I swear I will.

  He remembered what felt like a hammer beating on his chest. Remembered Legion begging Fox to hurry and revive him.

  There’s no other way to make you better. I’m sorry.

  As Legion’s final words drifted through his head, his anger eased. In her tone, he detected genuine remorse, agony, and determination. So the girl who usually vomited at the sight of blood had killed him, yes, but she hadn’t wanted him to stay dead.

  Ding, ding, ding. Another detail surfaced. Fox had jabbered about his death deactivating some kind of poison. An interesting development. If Legion had truly reviled him, she would have let him die for real, forever. But she hadn’t.

  Hope bloomed bright, s
hiny, and exquisite. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to save him. Because she cared about him.

  Or because False Hope had made her want something from him?

  You are the reason I can’t have nice things, he spat at the fiend.

  Gleeful laughter echoed, and yeah, Galen wanted to punch a hole in his skull.

  Where had Legion gone? Now that he was on the mend, they needed to chat about the present and the future.

  A strangled sound assailed his ears. He went still and quiet, casting his gaze around the room a second time. There, behind the headboard, Legion slept curled up on a recliner.

  Primitive satisfaction rocked him. A sensation he’d never before enjoyed. His woman was here, within reach, her wildflower scent tantalizing him. Let this never end.

  The scabs in his shoulder pulled as he reached for the cell phone on his nightstand. He teed up Aeron’s number and texted: Just a head’s up. I’ve got my girl. She’s well thanks to me. Hades would have let her get jacked. You’re welcome.

  Aeron’s response came in minutes: H told me you saved her. For that, you do have my thanks. But you’re going to have internal body bling if you don’t return her to me ASAP.

  Galen: Give me a minute to find the fucks I give…

  Galen: Still searching…

  Galen: Sorry. Can’t find a single one.

  Aeron: I love her, and I want what’s best for her, even if I must pay for her happiness w/ my life. Can you say the same?

  Galen responded with a gif he’d made for situations like this. In it, he made a lewd hand gesture while the words “Look what I gave your mother last night” flashed in the center.

  Then he typed: Listen, Dr. Usuc Atfilosofee. I didn’t see you braving H’s wards to help L escape that bloodthirsty army. (Drop mic.) (Pick mic back up.) She’s safe, ok. And I CAN say the same. I DID protect her with my life. So be a good daddy and let your daughter spread my wings. Over and out, mo-fo.

  He returned the cell phone to the nightstand.

  Legion gave a violent shake of her head and released another choking sound. “No. Please, no.”

  He could imagine what images plagued her nightmares.

  Uncaring about the flare of pain, he leaped off the bed to crouch in front of her chair. He lightly caressed her jaw, then lifted her hand to his face, holding her palm against his cheek. “I’m here, sugar.” His raw throat turned the words to smoke.

  A few months ago, Galen had made a deal with Hades. Every time Galen completed a task for the underworld’s top dog, he earned a reward. All he’d wanted? The demons who’d hurt Legion. He’d tortured and killed every one of the bastards but Lucifer.

  “No. Please, no. Don’t!” Eyes rolling behind her lids, Legion panted and groaned. Every few seconds, her fingers twitched, as if she tried to deflect a blow. “No!”

  He ground his teeth. One day, one day soon, this beauty would rest in the comfort and security of his arms. Fear would lose its hold on her, and contentment would become her constant companion. I’ll make sure of it.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he vowed. “Not now, not ever.”

  She melted into the chair, a soft sigh leaving her. Pride suffused him. For once, he’d comforted rather than frightened her.

  Though he yearned to linger, he returned to the bed, lest he terrify her when she awoke.

  Before he resettled, he cast her a final glance, his heart thudding. My downfall is exquisite. Flawless even. She wore a black tank top and gray sweat pants rolled at the waist and ankles. Adorable, yes, but he missed the prom dress. The long length of her honey-blonde hair cascaded over one delicate shoulder. Roses painted her checks, exactly where he’d caressed her. Jewels adorned her: diamonds around her neck, rubies and sapphires around her wrists, rings on every finger.

  Maybe her dreams had nothing to do with her past. Maybe she worried for Galen? The idea pleased him. Unless he had False Hope to thank? The demon enjoyed building him up, just to tear him down. The higher his hopes, the harder he crashed. Of course, at his lowest, Jealousy would whisper sweet nothings in his ear. You deserve so much more. Take it!

  Then False Hope would swoop in to build Galen back up. Once you remove the obstacles in your path, you’ll be so happy.

  As soon as Galen overreached, and he always overreached, he would lose something he valued. The fiends would cackle with glee, and the process would start all over again.

  Galen would give anything to extract the pair. But, when an immortal bonded with a person, place or thing, whether willingly or unwillingly, he tied his life-force to it. One could not survive without the other.

  The only upside to Galen’s companions—they hurt his enemies just as thoroughly as they hurt him.

  The thought of Legion being harmed in such a way…

  Stiff as a board, he said, “Wake up, beautiful.”

  She obeyed with the finesse of a freight train, erupting out of the chair while throwing a punch. Her whiskey-colored gaze glittered with terror as she scanned the room, her pupils the size of saucers. When she spotted him, the terror gave way to relief. After she gave him a once-over, the relief gave way to awareness.

  Awareness? Or more wishful thinking on his part? He’d wanted this woman for so long.

  No, it must be genuine. The air between them heated, as sultry as a stormy summer night.

  His cells sizzled, struck by lightning bolts of desire.

  “You’re alive,” she rasped.

  The pessimistic side of him reared up. “Are you disappointed?”

  “After working with Fox to bring you back from the dead? No.”

  “I remember your last words.” In a falsetto, he said, “Oh, Galen, my gorgeous lover boy, there’s no other way to make you better. You must live, for I will perish without you.”

  She took the bait, bristling. “I did not call you a lover boy.”

  But you will. Soon. “Did you think it? You can tell me. I’ll keep your secret.”

  Her cheeks flushed, revving his desire another notch. How hot did her skin burn? “What you did, you did to help me. I get it,” he said. “But I’m not happy that you gambled with my future. When a demon-possessed immortal kicks it, his spirit ends up in a prison realm.” Galen had spent too much time in prison already.

  Most recently, the Cronus clone had sheared off his wings and caged him alongside an immortal named Keeleykael, AKA The Red Queen, one of the strongest beings in history, with a megaton of superpowers.

  Galen respected and admired Keeley. He even loved her. Shockingly, their friendship persevered even after she hooked up with Torin, keeper of Disease.

  An invisible knife twisted in Galen’s chest. Once, Torin had been his best friend. If the guy couldn’t forgive a massive betrayal of his trust and a few hundred measly murder attempts, he didn’t deserve to have Galen in his life.

  “How are you feeling?” Legion moved to the side of the bed, swept sugar and salt granules to the floor, and eased down. Laser focused, she reached out, clearly intending to press her hand against his forehead. At the last second, she stiffened and dropped her arm to her side without making contact.

  He ached for contact with her. Why pull back? What did she fear most about him? And how could he help her overcome it?

  If the fear had roots in intimacy, he knew of only one way to help. Initiate contact so often the act became as automatic as breathing.

  Tough job, but he would find a way to push through.

  Step one: give her a reason to touch him—or an excuse.

  Galen sagged against his pillows, as if strength had deserted him. “I’m feeling feverish.” Truth. His cells only sizzled hotter, and only Legion had the power to cool him down… after she’d burned him alive with passion.

  “Any other symptoms of infection?” she asked, reaching out…Yes! This time, she pressed her hand against his forehead. A sense of triumph flared.

  Step two: fight a smile when you succeed.

  He leaned into her touch, luxuri
ating in her soft as velvet, warm as freshly tapped molasses skin.

  Step three: enjoy.

  How sweet would she taste?

  “Good news. You’re hot, but not too hot.” Her gaze traveled over him. In an instant, a choked noise rose from her; she jumped to her feet and spun around, severing contact.

  He swallowed a curse and gave himself a once-over, wondering what had caused such a vehement reaction. Well. Hello, hard-on. How I’ve missed you. Since taking Legion’s virginity, being with other women had proven impossible. His body wanted her, and only her. Now, having her nearby…

  He needed sex.

  “Why did you save me?” she asked, changing the subject. “And don’t say you just wanted to sleep with me. Your desire is kind of obvious. I want the real reason.”

  “Kind of obvious? Darling, there’s nothing kind of about my erection.”

  Her cheeks pinkened. “There must be more to it than that. And I’m not talking about your erection!”

  The show of spirit activated a battle cry inside Galen’s head: More!

  Give someone the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Usually he refused. When you spoke your truths aloud, you revealed secret shames, hidden desires, and masked vulnerabilities. An inadvertent consequence, but a consequence all the same. Why give someone unnecessary power over you? But this was Legion. The exception to his every rule, apparently.

  “To understand why I did what I did,” he said, “you need a little background.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Like all former soldiers in Zeus’s army, I was created fully formed. Unlike most of the others, I experienced an immediate desire to lead, to conquer, to own everything I surveyed. The desire has only grown stronger over the centuries.” Every time he’d won a battle, Fate itself seemed to say: You are meant to rule.

  “So…you want me to co-own the world with you?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

  Yes. No. He wanted to co-own her pleasure. And he would. But that particular truth would only frighten her.

  “When you were being tortured in hell,” he said, proceeding with caution, “I went after you. I didn’t know the awfulness of the deeds being done to you, I just knew part of me wanted to strike at you the way you’d struck at me while the other part of me wanted you back in my bed. But I let a personal vendetta against someone else derail my plans. A fact I will forever regret. So when I discovered an army marched for your cabin, nothing and no one could stop me from getting to you. Now,” he added with a sigh, “I want a chance to help you heal, Leg—Honey. I need to help you.”