Warrior Avenged

by Addison Fox

  “You just spent the last day and a half in the Underworld? No shit!” Brody’s eyes were wide with questions.

  “Ilsa needed to return some souls to the Underworld,” Quinn added as he poured their third round of scotch from the sideboard in the dining room. “Kane felt it was his duty to accompany her on this journey.”

  “Fat fucking lot of help the bull was, too,” Kane added, his second scotch already working a number on his tongue. “Wouldn’t even take us. Had to ride the ferryboat with the little demon.”

  “You met Charon?” Now it was Drake’s turn to question, his surprise comparable to Brody’s.

  “What did you miss the other day, Pisces? None of you would take us to Hades. The only way in if you can’t port is through passage on the river. Who did you think was going to take us?”

  “Yeah, but you’re not dead,” Drake persisted. Whatever ire—or guilt—that had plagued him earlier in the hallway had evaporated, his current mood calm as he pressed his questions. “I thought you had to be dead to ride the boat.”

  “Obviously not. And so glad you just thought about that little tidbit, by the way.” Kane offered up a mock salute. “Fuck you twice.”

  Brody’s gaze flipped from Kane to where Drake and Quinn sat next to each other on the opposite side of the table. “Okay. What did I miss?”

  Kane caught him up on the last several days’ events, including his brothers’ unwillingness to travel with Ilsa and their further unwillingness to support his own decision to do so.

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t travel with her.” Quinn gestured with his glass. “I said I wasn’t taking you, too.”

  “Wasn’t your call, buddy.” Brody gestured strongly with his own glass.

  Quinn’s eyebrows pulled close as fire flashed in his eyes. “I’m not responsible for death wishes, Talbot. And that’s what he wanted.”

  Kane objected to the pointed finger and accusation, but was too comfortably numb to make a fuss. He did manage to toss a slightly annoyed “I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” which was his annual litany during the poison’s ascension.

  Poison that had been slowly tightening his muscles since he and Ilsa had left the Underworld.

  “Bullshit. This isn’t about the poison and you know it,” Quinn ground out. “You’ve got no objectivity when it comes to that woman.”

  “No.” Kane shook his head. Somewhere inside, a small part of himself knew he should keep his mouth shut. But the pleasant numbness had no problem shutting down the voice.

  None whatsoever.

  “I don’t have any objectivity when it comes to her. She’s got me so fucking torqued up I barely know my own name. And you know what? I don’t exactly care about it all that much.”

  Brody held up his scotch and they clinked their matched leaded-crystal glasses to each other. “It’s fantastic, isn’t it?”

  Was it?

  Kane thought through the insecurity. The frustration. The mind-numbing fear when he worried something had happened to her on the Acheron.

  Was that what it meant to care for someone?

  That you were so fucking scared to lose them, you died a little bit each time things didn’t go smoothly for them?

  The thought was quickly followed by another one. Ilsa wrapped in his arms, her unique scent filling his senses. “Yes.”

  It was Drake’s turn to gesture. “Besotted fools. Both of them.”

  “Yeah, well, at least Brody knew what he was getting with Ava,” Quinn added. “Ilsa’s got too many secrets for my comfort.”

  Kane nodded, unable to get mad at Quinn for the comment. “That’s true, too.”

  Drake shook his glass to dislodge the last of his drink. “You any closer to figuring her out than you were a few days ago?”

  “I know a bit more than I did.”

  “Will any of it change our opinion?” Typical Quinn. Direct and pointed and pulling no punches.

  Kane shrugged. “Will you change your opinion?”

  “If you give me a damn good reason to.”

  “She’s the missing nymph.” The room grew so quiet Kane could practically hear their heartbeats.

  “Adrasteia? The nymph who cared for Zeus?”

  Kane nodded. “That’d be the one.”

  “What’s she doing taking souls to the Underworld?” Brody probed. “As her job?”

  “Uh-huh.” Kane nodded, swallowing the last of his drink. “She’s Adrasteia and she’s Nemesis and she’s my Ilsa.”

  “Your Ilsa?” Drake asked. Kane wasn’t sure if the Pisces’s voice was actually slurred or if he’d missed something in the translation of the comment back to his brain.

  “Mine.”

  Three pairs of eyes stared at him from around the table, holding a mix of concern, good humor and a fair amount of teasing. Even Quinn had the decency to look slightly impressed at all the information Kane had managed to glean on the trip south.

  Brody reached for the half-empty bottle of scotch and laid it on the table between the four of them. “A little possessive there, Monte?”

  “Nope. Just engaging in a bit of modern-day territory marking.”

  “Don’t worry,” Quinn added dryly. “I may be the asshole who wouldn’t take you to the Underworld, but even I wouldn’t horn in on my friend’s girl.”

  Ilsa fought off a wave of giggles as she flopped back onto the bed. She wasn’t going to stay the night. Hadn’t even wanted to stay for dinner.

  So how did she end up staying?

  Oh right.

  Ava.

  Very persuasive woman, that Ava. And sweet and kind. And fun. And for such a demure-looking woman, with her soft blond hair and warm, teacherlike brown eyes, she certainly liked to talk about sex with her new husband.

  Ilsa giggled again. Who knew women did that? No wonder most of the nymphs spent the majority of their days giggling with one another.

  It was fun to talk about sex.

  And very illuminating.

  She had absolutely no idea you could squeeze a man’s cock to prolong his pleasure. But the tips of her fingers certainly itched to give it a try on Kane.

  Maybe it was good she was staying the night here.

  Maybe Kane would want to have sex again.

  And maybe she should tell him about that other thing. Ava said it was important, but she didn’t know.

  Ilsa sat up, the room spinning in a weird circle as she looked around.

  A large armoire dominated the far wall and the bed she lay on dominated another. A small love seat ran the length of the wall with the door and the fourth wall was a bank of windows from one end to the other.

  How did she end up here again?

  In Kane’s bedroom?

  The bed was soft under her back and she ran a hand over the cool silk of the bedspread, listening idly to the sound her fingernails made as they swooped and swirled over the material.

  She felt so nice. So loose and limber and . . . liquid.

  She felt like the problems in her life weren’t really all that bad.

  Which was funny, really, since the problems in her life had never been this bad. Ever.

  With her fingers, she made more swoops and swirls on the coverlet, liking the soothing sound it made, the repetitive action allowing her to think.

  The door opened on a whoosh of air.

  Ilsa sat straight up in bed, surprised by the loud sound of the door as it slammed against the far wall.

  She was even more surprised when Kane slammed it closed, then staggered to the bed and flopped down, face-first.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Shit-faced,” mumbled back at her from the direction of Kane’s mouth.

  “Me too,” Ilsa said, flopping backward so her head lay next to his. Another round of giggles she couldn’t stop floated up and out of her.

  More mumbled details. “Whaz so funny?”

  “Everything.”

  “Oh.”

  They lay there like that for several min
utes. Every so often, Kane emitted a low moan and mumbled something about his head, then the room grew silent again.

  What was that she wanted to ask him again?

  Oh.

  Right.

  “Did you know if I put the proper amount of pressure on your cock when we’re having sex, it prolongs your pleasure and will keep you from coming?”

  Kane lifted his head, groaning as he used his elbows to push himself up. “What did you just say?”

  “Doesn’t it work?”

  An odd, strangled gurgle escaped his lips and his dark eyes did this cute sort of roll. “Well. Um. Where’d you hear about this?”

  “Ava told me.”

  “She did, did she?”

  “Oh yes. She said she does it to Brody and he loves it.”

  Kane groaned and slapped his hands over his ears. “Oh gods. Fuck me swinging. Don’ need an image of that.”

  She shrugged. “S’kay.”

  Kane lifted himself onto his elbows again, his face delightfully close to hers. “Anything else you found out tonight?”

  “Well, we discussed what an ass hat Quinn is. Even though Ava loves him very much.”

  Kane’s laugh erupted around them even as his upper body sort of wobbled. Or was that her eyesight? “Ass hat?”

  “It was Ava’s term.”

  Kane leaned in and pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips. “I’ll have to start using it. Immediately.”

  Silence fell between them as Kane’s gaze captured hers. She felt all warm and gooey inside, sort of like the brownies Ava had hunted up after they finished off their second bottle of wine.

  “So is there anything else I need to know? Besides sex tricks and new variations of dirty words.”

  Ilsa dropped his gaze. “Um. Sort of.”

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. My attention span’s gotten fairly limited since the image of you squeezing my cock has taken up all the space in there.”

  “Well, um, there’s something I never told you.”

  “You’ve got another name?”

  “What?”

  He grinned, the lopsided tilt of his mouth doing funny things to her heart. “It was a joke. So what did you want to tell me?”

  “When we had sex. That first time six months ago? Do you remember?”

  That smile got a little bigger. “Yes. I think I remember.”

  “Well.” Ilsa took a deep breath. Should she say it? Shouldn’t she?

  Might as well go for it.

  “I was a virgin.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A virgin?

  Was it really possible?

  Kane knew it was a stupid reaction. If nothing else, he’d always—always—prided himself on his innate respect for and belief in women. Their interests. Their lives. Their sexual choices.

  But the caveman impulse clearly wasn’t dead, either, as his body filled with white-hot desire at the idea he was the only man who had ever had sex with Ilsa.

  Had ever lain between those luscious thighs.

  Had ever brought her to orgasm.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Then. Six months ago. You didn’t tell me you were a virgin. I’d have—” He broke off.

  “You’d have what?”

  “Um. Well. I’d have done it differently.”

  A delightful little wrinkle pulled up her nose as her pale blue eyes filled with questions. “You can do it differently?”

  “I mean the way I did it. I’d have gone slower. Been more gentle.”

  “You were wonderful.”

  Damn, but she was too good for his ego.

  Kane ran a hand over his face, trying to scrub some sense into his brain. The scotch—which had seemed like a raging good idea at the time—was wreaking havoc with his common sense and every word that came into his head was quickly discarded as he searched for the right thing to say.

  “Are you upset?” Ilsa asked him, her voice as soft as the down pillows they lay upon.

  “No.”

  “Well, you look upset. Your face is all crinkled up and your eyes are all squinty.”

  “The squinty’s from about three glasses too many of scotch.”

  “Really? Do I look like that? I had quite a lot of wine.”

  Kane scrubbed his face again, running his fingers over his eyes in deep, soothing circles before opening one to look at her eager, flushed face.

  How to handle this?

  How to make her realize what an amazing, incredible, beautiful gift she’d just given him with her words.

  Rolling over, he laid his head on the pillow next to her and pulled her into his arms. “I’m not upset. At all. In fact, I’m so incredibly flattered and honored, I’m sort of at a loss for words.”

  “Oh.”

  “What I meant before is that, had I known, I would have made sure to be extra careful and make your first time something really special. I’d have gone slower and allowed your body to adjust to sex for the first time.”

  She let out another one of those cute drunken giggles. “I realize I don’t have anything to compare to. But I thought that first time and all the other times since were perfect.”

  “Flattery, my dear, will get you everywhere. But I’d like to think of myself as an overachiever. Perfection can always be improved upon.”

  With deft movements, Kane lifted her, pulling her on top of him to straddle his body. Reaching down, he slid his fingers underneath her panties, a growl of pure male satisfaction rumbling in his chest when he felt her already slick and ready for him.

  Ilsa’s head fell back, her high, pert breasts thrust toward him, her nipples visible through the thin sweater she wore. Before he could help her, she had her hands at her waist, lifting the sweater to expose herself to his hungry gaze.

  Tossing the sweater to the side of the bed, Ilsa bent over him, a sexy smile spread across her face. Her eyes were dark with arousal, her voice husky with need.

  “Well, then. Overachieve away.”

  Ilsa slipped into the library early the next morning, her head throbbing with the pain of a thousand jackhammers. This was a hangover?

  The ache in her head confirmed that’s exactly what it was.

  Ignoring it, she focused on her task and prayed the dull edge of sickness would work its way through sooner rather than later.

  Didn’t it take humans all day to get over these things?

  She could only hope her immortal body would shed the pain sooner.

  Of course, her immortal body wasn’t what it once was, especially with the tear in her soul still causing its own fair share of pain.

  Ilsa did a quick scan of the shelves as she crossed the room. The memory had come to her sometime early that morning, as she lay in the circle of Kane’s arms, unable to sleep.

  Over dinner the evening before, as Ava explained the various roles of all the Warriors, she mentioned why there were so many books strewn around the mansion. Ava had pointed out how they’d organized the categories and how to search for information, anywhere through the house.

  With swift keystrokes, Ilsa tapped out what she was looking for on the laptop that sat in the far corner of the room, on a small table in front of the floor-to-ceiling shelves.

  She tried several subjects, including MAGIC, CURSES and COVENANTS.

  Each directed her to the same section, shelved in a room called the first-floor library.

  Must have been the room she and Quinn had argued in the other day.

  With swift steps, Ilsa navigated the hallway to the stairs, on her way to the first floor.

  The library was where she remembered, the room double the size of the one upstairs. She moved down the stacks, reading the labels until she found what she was looking for. Securing the book from a high shelf, she tucked it under her arm as she hunted for the other title she wanted to review.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  Ilsa muffled a scream as she whirled toward the door.
“Callie! You scared me.”

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “Looking for a book.”

  “You have no right to touch those.” The pinched face and clipped voice had a harsh quality Ilsa would never have expected for her sister.

  “Why not?”

  What had happened to her? Why was she so callous?

  Or was the attitude a special sort of anger directed solely at her?

  Was this how she behaved?

  Was she this implacable? This harsh?

  Yes, her conscience whispered. You’re exactly like this. Likely even worse.

  Her drunken conversation with Ava came back to her. The woman had survived some terrible horrors, including watching her father die in her arms after he had been shot when she was a child. Ava’s entire life had been one challenge after another and even recently—even after she’d met Brody—her grandmother betrayed her. Had set her course and sided with Enyo.

  And yet she chose life.

  Love.

  For the first time since Zeus walked out of the cave, his curse still echoing off its walls, Ilsa stopped to think about her role in what happened. She didn’t deserve his wrath, that’s certain. But she did make all the choices that had come after.

  She chose Hades’s offer. Presumably because she did want a life.

  She elected to live her life alone.

  She had made the agreement with Emmett.

  No one else.

  Callie marched toward her, her hands outstretched in expectation. Ilsa didn’t bother to argue, holding the book in her hand out for inspection.

  “What do you need books on magic covenants for?”

  “I have some things I need to deal with.”

  “Does Kane know about this?”

  “No.”

  “He should.”

  “Why? This doesn’t concern him.” Ilsa brazened her way through the lie. The covenant did technically concern him, but she was correcting that and there was no reason to drag him into it.

  She’d fix this. It was her only choice. The only way she could keep Kane safe.

  “What are you playing at?”

  “Callie. I know you don’t have a very high regard for me.”