Every day since she’d moved in, he’d woken up brimming with anticipation, wondering what she would say or do next. The stunning beauty had turned mundane tasks into mini-adventures and meals into living fantasies. Each night, when he’d placed his head on a pillow, he’d fallen asleep with a smile, replaying their interactions.
Galen might have been created for war, but he lived for Leila. His everything, he thought again. She meant more to him than any war, title, or kingdom. Because…
Yeah. Every part of him loved every part of her. No one had ever fit him so perfectly. She had become his greatest strength, and his favorite weakness. A true beacon of hope.
The knowledge kicked him into a tailspin of excitement rather than panic. His future had never looked so bright. She soothed the ravages of his soul, and satisfied the man who’d always wanted more.
So they’d had a rough start. So what? The end mattered more than the beginning.
Not that they would end. She had trusted him with her passion; now he would fight for her heart.
You’ll never make a relationship work. Soon she’ll remember you are a betrayer. Galen the Treacherous. She’ll leave.
“You tensed,” Leila said, tracing her fingertips along the stubble on his jaw. “Are you all right?”
He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, clinging to the woman who owned his future. “When you are with me? Yes.”
* * * *
Awash with vulnerability, Legion traced her fingertips along the shell of Galen’s ear. “When we kissed, I climaxed, but you didn’t.”
“Believe me, I am keenly aware of this,” he replied, his tone dry.
“Well…I want to make you come.”
He winked at her, desire ablaze in his irises. “Yes. I want you to. Need you to.” But he frowned. “Do you hear that?”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond, just jumped to his feet, grabbed her shirt and yanked it over her head before pushing her behind him and zipping his pants. As he palmed two daggers, footsteps registered. So many, blending together, moving at a clipped pace.
Fear chilled her to the bone. An invasion?
“Run,” he commanded, flaring his wings. “Hide. Now!”
Part of her shouted, Yes! Run! Now, now, now. The other part of her simmered with a fierce tide of rage. How dare anyone interrupt the most beautiful moment of her life?
She wouldn’t leave Galen to fight the coming battle on his own. And there would be a battle. Aggression charged the air.
Though she trembled, she planted her feet, determined. I will stand. I will fight for this man. No matter the cost.
Glass shattered. An entire wall crumbled, and over a hundred men stormed into the living room. One man occupied the center of the group. He had dark hair, bronzed skin, and a cold, calculated smile. Cronus, the former king of the Titans. Or rather, his clone. How had he opened a portal to get here?
More powerful than we realized…
“So nice to see you again, Galen.” The Titan’s smile grew colder. “I knew putting a contract on your life you would lead me to my prize.” With a snap of his fingers, the army launched forward—advancing on Legion.
Chapter Nine
What is happening?
Legion stood as motionless as a statue, her good intentions pulverized. Fear overshadowed rage.
Galen had no such difficulties. He acted fast, bending down to clasp the hilt of a sword that had been anchored to the underside of the coffee table.
How many weapons were hidden in this place, and where could she get one?
Like you could do any damage. Helpless…
Galen fought the soldiers with masterful skill. But then, he had the heart of a warrior, and the soul of a predator. The limbs of their enemies thudded to the floor. Blood flowed. Bellows of pain and agony created a horrifying chorus.
And still she remained in place, her heartbeat warped, her stomach in knots.
More soldiers swarmed Galen. So many. Too many. Swords arced toward him, one after the other. He ducked and parried, all while shielding her. No matter how many injuries he sustained, he kept fighting.
Why did Cronus want her? Why go to so much trouble?
Was she going to do nothing for the man who’d just pleasured and comforted her? Who’d encouraged and praised her. Or would she find a way to push through her terror and save him?
Metal whistled through the air—slice. Galen roared, his wrist detaching from his arm. A second later, his hand plopped to the rug with a sickening thud.
Legion screamed, horror shredding what remained of her calm.
“St-stop,” she cried. “Please! I’ll…I’ll go with you. Just leave Galen alone.”
“No,” her winged warrior shouted.
The same cry echoed inside her head. Still she peered at Cronus and pleaded, “Don’t hurt him any more.”
Though blood spurted from a severed artery, weakening him, Galen continued fighting until his knees gave out, and he dropped.
Close to vomiting, Legion leaped in front of him and spread her arms. Breathing was nearly impossible now, the air too thick. Her lungs shuddered, burned, and seized, rejecting what little oxygen she’d managed to draw in.
In a blink, Cronus appeared at her side. He pinched her chin to turn her face one way, then the other.
Still on his knees, Galen tried to stab the king’s midsection. But his reflexes had slowed dramatically, and his aim was off. Probably dizzy. Cronus easily deflected both blows.
“I said stop! If you kill Galen,” she croaked, “I will fight you. Whatever you want from me, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you never get it.”
She had to get the Titan and his men out of here, so Galen could summon Fox.
A shrug of the king’s wide shoulders. No man had ever been so smug. “Fight me or not. Makes no difference to me. Either way, I will get what I want.”
“Are you sure?” Think, think. How to get him out? “Wh-what is it you want, exactly?”
“I want many things from you, she-demon, for you are a rare and wonderful creature. The best of humans, the best of immortals.”
“I don’t understand.” Could she drag and toss Galen out the window, giving him a chance to run? She’d have to do it fast enough that none of the soldiers could take a swing at him.
Galen struggled to rise, still refusing to give up. A soldier kicked him in the face. Breath heaved from him in a single gust, and blood sprayed from his mouth. Legion swallowed a cry of distress.
“Think of it. I can scrap you for parts,” Cronus said casually, as if a man wasn’t bleeding to death at his feet. “If I remove your teeth, I can adhere venomous enamel to different weapons. I can extract your marrow, and create my own army of demons. A legion commanded by me, and me alone. I can use your bones as shivs. For what can slay a demon? Another demon. The possibilities are endless.”
Her chest tightened, the urge to vomit bombarding her. “You wouldn’t go to this much trouble for such things.”
And still Galen struggled to rise.
“You are right.” Cronus kneed the underside of Galen’s chin, sending him back to the floor. “I want inside your head. You have secrets I will unearth.”
She tried to dive on her man, but one of the soldiers grabbed her arm to lock her in place. Galen wheezed as he met her gaze, and it was clear speech was no longer possible for him. Words weren’t needed, however. In his eyes, she saw grief, remorse, and fury; he would rather die fighting than watch as the Titan used her for anything.
“If you walk away now, without killing him, or hurting him further,” she rasped, “I won’t wipe my memory.” A bluff, and a downright dirty lie. Maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn’t. But she had to try. The only way to sell your lies? Confidence. “You know Cameo, former keeper of Misery? The demon wiped her mind anytime she experienced happiness. That is a demon trick. I retained my demon qualities, remember? I can erase everything at will. There’ll be nothing left to unearth.” What s
ecrets did he want? She had none.
Cronus stared at her, hard, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Very well,” he finally said. Then he vanished and reappeared, flashing directly behind Galen to slam a dagger hilt into his temple.
Her beautiful warrior slumped over, his eyes closing. He would have crash-landed if she hadn’t wrenched free of the solider and caught him, easing him down.
Hot tears burned her cheeks. She ripped material from the hem of her shirt, planning to bind his forearm. Blood continued to spurt from his severed artery. But strong arms snaked around her, dragging her backward.
The last glimpse she had of Galen, he lay on the floor, face down, blood pooling around him.
* * * *
Galen blinked open his eyes. A milky film clouded his vision while searing pain circulated through his entire body. Groaning, he reached up to wipe his face—
One of his hands was missing.
Memories thundered inside his head, and he jerked. Leila’s wonder as she orgasmed. Her fury as she’d whaled on him. Her pain as she’d shared her past. Cronus’s invasion. The army.
Shock twined with terror, ice spreading through his cells. Men had swarmed him, and though he’d fought, fought with every ounce of strength he possessed, Galen had failed to save Leila.
You’ve got this, False Hope had said. And he’d believed the fiend, because he’d known he would do anything, cross any line, to ensure his woman’s safety. Now…
Her past could be repeating itself, and I can do nothing to stop it. He threw back his head and roared at the ceiling.
Her dread had been palpable, yet it hadn’t prevented her from bargaining with Cronus. Just to save Galen’s life. He’d let her down, but still she’d fought for him.
What secrets did the former king hope to uncover?
And scrap her for parts? Galen would die first!
A strip of material rested on the floor. A piece of Leila’s shirt. She must have tried to bind his wound. He wrapped his wrist, using his teeth to tie the ends together, then labored to his feet. Torrents of dizziness nearly knocked him down. The broken bones in both legs didn’t help.
He’d lost a hand before. Actually, he’d lost entire limbs before. In a few weeks, the appendage would regrow. But there was no way he would wait to go after Leila. If Fox helped him gear up, then opened a portal, he could recruit the Lords within minutes. They would aid him, no questions asked. Not for him, but for Leila.
You can’t save her. You are too weak. Regain your strength before you challenge a Titan.
Hate False Hope! The fiend longed to hobble him with fear. Galen wouldn’t rest until Leila was safe. To start, he needed his cell phone.
He stumbled down the hall, heading for his bedroom, leaving a trail of blood behind him. On the stairs, his knees weakened, and he nearly collapsed. Just a little farther…
Finally. Success. He fired off a one-handed text to Fox, gathered his emergency kit, and plopped onto the foot of the bed, where he once again used his teeth to tighten a tourniquet around his forearm.
A portal opened, a curtain of air peeling back. Fox stepped into the bedroom, took one look at him, and cursed. “What happened?” Behind her, the portal snapped closed, a hard gust of wind sweeping through the room.
“Cronus 2.0 found us. Must have a Gatekeeper on his staff, or he uses more magic than we realized. He took Leila—Legion. Now I need to get to Aeron.”
Moving at the speed of light, Fox started a fire in the hearth, heated a dagger, then cauterized his raw, open wound. While he bellowed curses and dripped with sweat, she confiscated the supplies and finished bandaging him.
“I don’t recommend wearing a prosthetic,” she said. “Not until you’ve healed a—”
“Get me a prosthetic,” he insisted between panting breaths. “It’ll come in… handy.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I do not appreciate your warped humor right now.”
Maybe not, but his warped humor was needed. By them both. As long as he had the strength to tease her, he wasn’t in danger of dying, like the rest of her family.
Some of her tension lifted, proving his thoughts. Mumbling under her breath, she fit a sleeve over his mangled wrist, and secured one of his many robotic hands in place. One she’d custom built for him. In fact, he had multiple prosthetics for every appendage; the technological marvels had saved his life on more than one occasion.
“Please reconsider this. You’re in no condition to—” she began.
But he cut her off, demanding, “Now.” His steely tone allowed zero argument. “Take me directly to the Lords. No landing a mile away, so they won’t see you wield your power.” Long ago, Galen and Fox had decided to hide her ability, no matter the circumstances. He no longer cared about the ramifications. The time for secrets was over. Every second counted. “I trust them. It’s time to show them what you can do.”
“You might trust them, but I do not. They aren’t your biggest fans. Me? They don’t even tolerate. Plus, I don’t like the company they keep. Gods and goddess, Sent Ones, Harpies.”
“Do it for me. Please,” he said. He hustled around the room, weaponing up. “You might not trust them to help me, but trust that they’ll help Leila.”
Before the army had arrived, she’d looked at Galen with something akin to awe, as if she found him worthy of her time, her life...her heart. He wanted, needed, to see that look again. And he would. Soon. Cronus would pay dearly for taking Galen’s woman—he would pay with blood.
Fox’s dark eyes glittered with all kinds of concern, but she offered a stiff nod, turned, and performed a complicated series of hand gestures, causing the air in front of her to sparkle. “The Lords moved to—”
“Explanations aren’t necessary. Just get me there.” He clenched and unclenched his metal fingers. Pain shot up his arm, every movement agony. Oh, well. “I will risk anything to get Leila back as fast as possible.” Anything to save her from more abuse.
The sparkles intensified, nearly blinding him. Finally, another invisible curtain peeled back, creating a Stargate-like portal.
“I’ll go fir—” Fox went quiet as Galen passed her. “Okay, then. I’ll follow you.”
He braced, ready for anything as he stepped through what looked to be a waterfall of liquid glass… Fox stayed close to his heels, two short swords in hand.
They entered a thunderdome of aggression.
The spacious room with metal walls had zero pieces of furniture. What it did have? Seven of the most violent predators in history. Though Galen had grown to trust these people, just as he’d said, survival instinct demanded he have a plan of action, in case someone attacked.
The two most notable threats? Hades, one of nine kings in the Underworld, and his eldest son, William the Ever Randy, who was cursed to die whenever he fell in love. The two immortals had fewer scruples than Galen, and more power than any being should have. How Galen envied their power…
He snarled. Hate Jealousy!
Hades could turn his body into smoke and ghost through an opponent. William could develop wings of smoke on command, and harm others worse than the wards at Leila’s cabin.
To win a battle against the pair, Galen would have to fight dirty. Downright filthy, even.
“Welcome back, Galen,” William said with a wink. “Maybe now the fearsome and mighty Lords of the Underworld will finally get the hysterectomies they so desperately need, and stop bitching about your absence.”
He received a glare from Aeron, former keeper of Wrath and Leila’s first love.
Sienna, current keeper of Wrath and the queen of the Greeks, occupied the space next to Paris, the keeper of Promiscuity. The two were never far from each other. Paris needed to have sex at least once a day, or he would weaken terribly.
Finally, the power couple. Keeley, the Red Queen, and Torin, keeper of Disease. With one touch skin to skin, the white-haired brute could ignite a world-wide plague. Humans died, but immortals became carriers of the virus. But with Keeley’s
help, he’d found a way to circumvent the process.
“Fox is a Gatekeeper. Interesting.” Hades stepped forward, a tall, imposing figure, wearing an air of boredom as perfectly as he wore his suit.
“Sips, you fickle little bastard,” Fox muttered.
Galen followed her line of sight and spotted the raccoon peeking over Hades’s shoulder.
Sips shrugged, all what can I say?
The underworld king scratched Sips behind the ear and said to Fox, “I’ve always wanted a Gatekeeper on staff at Chez Hellfire. You and I have much to discuss.” His tone was soft, even, but somehow more menacing than a blade. “However, now that our guests have finally joined us, we have other matters to address.”
Guests? Finally? How had the group known Galen and Fox would show up? (Besides his hand.) “You can’t have her. Not now, not later,” Galen said, impatience buzzing in the back of his mind. “Legion is—”
“Missing. Yes, we know.” Aeron spit the words. He was a big man with heavily tattooed skin, dark hair, and violet eyes—and Galen wasn’t sure what Leila had ever seen in him. “You let someone abduct her.”
Shame and guilt lacerated through his chest. Never as good as the Lords. They succeed, I fail. They deserve to fail. They—
That’s enough out of you, Jealousy!
False Hope sprang into action. Save Leila on your own. Be her hero.
Bastard. The demon liked to urge him to place his faith in the wrong person, or the wrong action, so he became the architect of his own demise. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy, and a truly insidious evil. The fiend failed to comprehend that pride meant nothing to Galen. Only Leila’s safety mattered.
“No one hates this situation more than me,” he told Aeron. “Challenge me to a duel or whatever you wish, and we’ll settle our differences once and for all. Just wait until after we’ve saved Leila. Legion.”
“Honey,” Aeron snapped.
No time for arguments. He clenched his metal hand once again and motioned to Fox. “Let’s go. Open a portal.”
“Slight problem,” she replied, drawing another snarl from him. No more hold ups! “I was able to portal here because I put a tracker on Sienna the last time we were together.” Everyone but Galen cursed. “I don’t have a tracker on Cronus, or Legion. So. Anyone want to guess where he might have taken her?”
The Darkest Captive Page 10
