The Darkest Passion lotu-6

by Gena Showalter

  As an angel, her senses hadn’t been attuned to this plane and she’d never truly smelled what humans cooked or drank or misted all over their bodies. But she could smell now, and that dark liquid was divine. Like bottled power, promising a fresh start, perhaps even a total body healing.

  Coffee, she knew humans called it. No wonder they stood in mile-long lines and were willing to hand over every cent in their pockets for a single shot of it.

  “What are those?” she managed to croak out, motioning to the pills with a tilt of her chin. Mistake! The movement sent a wave of dizziness crashing through her.

  “Just take them. They’ll make you feel better.”

  That, he hadn’t whispered and she covered her ears. “Do you have an inside voice? Could you use it, please?”

  He fisted the pills and gently dislodged her hands. “Stop playing. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Shh! Livvie’s talking, and she’s not averse to crushing your vocal cords if you don’t keep it down.” Why did she like this man again?

  “Up. Now.”

  Gingerly she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her still-burning brain nearly exploded, and she groaned.

  Aeron gave her an impatient scowl. No, not impatient. The emotion in that scowl was dark, yes, but whatever he felt was harder. Needier? Had her groan affected him?

  She wanted to preen. She did fluff her hair—only to realize the curling mass tumbled down her shoulders in countless tangles. Her cheeks flamed as she pulled up the hood of her robe. Or tried to. Frowning, she looked down. Blue tank top, short black skirt.

  Why was— Her slut-it-up makeover, she recalled. Oh, yeah. But that didn’t explain her headache. Her lashes lifted and she met Aeron’s penetrating stare. “Was I injured?”

  He snorted. “Hardly. You drank too much, and are now paying the price.”

  That wasn’t the only price she was paying. One terrible memory after another suddenly flooded her. After that first bottle of giggle juice, which clearly hadn’t been so giggly for her, she’d experienced a terrible sense of loss. After the second bottle, a crushing sense of depression had come over her, and she had sobbed uncontrollably. Gideon had held her, and she’d cried all over him. About Aeron. Mortifying.

  Aeron lifted his hand to her mouth. “Take the pills, but don’t chew them. Understand? Swallow them whole.”

  Could she? Just then, they looked as big as oranges. Her arm was shaking as she pinched the pills between her fingers and tossed them into her mouth. Tried to swallow. Failed. Ugh. The taste! Her face scrunched in revulsion.

  “Drink. That’ll help.” He held the steaming cup to her lips and poured.

  Olivia gagged. While the liquid smelled wonderful, it tasted like a mix of battery acid and dirt. How ladylike would she appear if she spit everything onto the bed?

  “Swallow,” he barked as he set the cup aside.

  She did. Barely. The pills slid down her throat, rubbing her raw, as did that disgusting coffee. When she stopped shuddering, she glared up at him. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”

  He rolled his eyes and settled back on his haunches. “You did it to yourself when you allowed Gideon to get you drunk.”

  How many times was he going to remind her of her folly?

  “Now, I need you to get up. Livvie. We’ve got something to do.”

  Right now she only wanted to go back to bed. In fact, she fell back onto the mattress and gazed up at the ceiling. There was a poster of a woman in a bikini, her skin golden, her cheeks red and her nipples hard. Long blond hair blew in the wind. Olivia frowned, confusion returning. That hadn’t been in Aeron’s bedroom before.

  She scanned the rest of the room, but didn’t recognize anything. There was a walnut dresser with a crystal vase that glistened in the light seeping through white curtains, portraits of different-colored flowers on the walls and pretty beige carpet on the floor.

  “This doesn’t look like your place,” she said.

  “That’s because it isn’t.”

  Her frown intensified. “So…whose is it?”

  “Yours. You’ll be staying here with Gilly, in this guest room. Do you know Gilly?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “Both Paris and William have bunked here before, hence the poster. Anyway, you’ll be staying until you decide to return to the heavens.”

  Realization hit. He was so desperate to be done with her, he’d flown her into town while she slept. Oh, that hurt.

  “Olivia?”

  Fight past your pain. “Yes, I do know Gilly,” she said, voice trembling. She knew the girl better than any of the Lords, actually. Gilly was young and sweet and had lived a tragic life until moving here, her parents having hurt her in so many ways.

  At one time, Olivia had been responsible for bringing joy into Gilly’s life. That’s why, when Gilly ran away from home, she’d led the teen to Los Angeles. On a level even Olivia hadn’t understood, she’d known Gilly would find salvation there. What she hadn’t known then was that that salvation would be Danika and the Lords of the Underworld.

  Her Deity worked in mysterious ways.

  “But,” she continued, “I’m not going back to the heavens.”

  Determination glinted in Aeron’s eyes, but all he said was, “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, as I told you, we have a job to do. You’ve got time for a fast shower, but it’ll have to be a multitasking one. I’ve got questions for you, so we’ll talk while you’re cleaning up.”

  He didn’t wait for her response, but scooped her up and carted her to the bathroom. There wasn’t time to enjoy the ride. He set her down, severing all contact, bent over and worked the knobs in the stall. He had a nice butt, she observed, hugged just right by his jeans. And by “nice” she of course meant “so exquisite her stomach fluttered.”

  Hot water suddenly burst from the spigot, startling her into averting her eyes. By the time she realized what she’d done—need more!—he’d already straightened. How disappointing. Or maybe not. That water promised strength, vitality and…her lids closed to half-mast. Fun, round two? Possibly. Her first shower, and Aeron would be an observer. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be able to look without touching.

  The morning was suddenly off to a much better start.

  Desire trembled through her.

  He turned to her and though he was the same height as always, he seemed larger, more menacing. His eyes glowed that bright violet, his tattoos stark, and the pulse in his neck hammered wildly. He wore a black shirt and black pants—both easily removable—and she could see the bulge of weapons at his waist and ankles.

  So beautiful, she thought, heart picking up speed. She wanted to stroke him again. Wanted to dance her lips over his entire body. Especially between his legs. When she’d gripped him there, she’d felt that bead of moisture.

  What would that bead taste like?

  He gulped. Had he sensed the direction of her thoughts? “You know how to take a shower, right? You…strip—” his voice caught on the word “—step under the water and lather the soap from head to toe.”

  “Are you going to join me?” She pulled the tank over her head, letting the material float to the floor. Revealing her body should have made her uncomfortable, she supposed, but she wanted him to see and to yearn, just as she did. Unbearably. Besides, she was confident, aggressive, and now that she knew the kind of pleasure they could give each other, she would do anything, say anything, to receive it. “Or are you just going to watch?”

  If that’s the case, you can watch me do this. She cupped her breasts the way she suddenly imagined him cupping them, unable to stop herself. Oh, yes. That felt good.

  His eyes widened, seemingly glued to her, the air in the bathroom changing. Charging with electricity. “Don’t do that.” Harsh, choked.

  “Why not?”

  “Because your Deity should be rewarded for creating those.” He shook his head, though his narrowed gaze didn’t leave her. “I mean, because I— Damn you. And damn me. I sh
ould be punished. The thoughts in my mind…”

  Were they like hers? “Aeron,” she beseeched.

  “I just realized I never kissed them,” he uttered in a rough voice charged with the same electricity that hummed in the air. “And gods, woman, that’s a crime.”

  “Kiss them now.” Please.

  “Yes.” He leaned toward her, head bowing, pupils expanding—and this time she knew it was desire rather than anger.

  Her nipples pearled, waiting…expectant…but just before contact, he caught himself, straightened and growled. She released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. He’d almost… Sweet Deity. He really had almost kissed her there.

  “Aeron.” The ache such knowledge evoked… Do it. Don’t stop now.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because!” He knew what she craved, what she needed, yet denied her still. Just because. Bastard! “You do this alone.” He passed her and stepped outside the bathroom, tugging the door shut behind him, leaving only a small crack of light.

  So close…

  She could have screamed, her skin suddenly too tight for her body. Instead, she removed the rest of her clothing and entered the stall. The moment that first cascade hit her, she wished she had screamed. Anything to ease some of the pressure building inside her. Pressure the soft caress of water merely provoked.

  She tried to blank her mind, but an array of words kept claiming her attention. Kiss. Breasts. Bodies. Moving. Kneading. Argh!

  “I don’t hear you lathering,” Aeron snapped.

  “Get bent,” she snapped back, an expression she’d heard humans utter to those who irritated them. And oh, did Aeron irritate her.

  Kiss. Breasts. Bodies. Moving. Kneading. Sliding. Taking. Her knees almost buckled.

  “Olivia.” A warning?

  “Zip it, demon!” Shaking, she pumped a few squirts of rose-scented soap ito her hands and finally began cleaning herself. Even that disturbed her, doubling the pressure. How had he revved her up this quickly and this intensely? Without kissing her?

  Kiss. Breasts. Bodies. Moving. Kneading. Sliding. Taking. Possessing. Licking. Sucking.

  Soon she would break.

  Distraction. Yes, that’s what she needed. “Did Paris and William use this soap? And yes, you may speak now.”

  “I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be thinking about them. More than that, I’ll be asking the questions here. How did you know we’d fail to capture Scarlet yesterday?”

  “I told you. I know a lot of things that can help you, but so far you haven’t seemed interested in learning them.”

  “Well, I’m interested now, so start talking. Are there any other demon-possessed immortals in town?”

  Confident, she reminded herself. “You think it’s that easy?” Aggressive. “You make a demand and I deliver?”

  A pause. A hesitant, “What do you want?”

  Relief! “We’ll start with an apology.”

  “I’m…sorry.”

  Grudgingly offered, greedily received. “No,” she finally answered. “There aren’t any other demon-possessed immortals in town.”

  “All right, then. I’ll need you to take me to where this Scarlet is staying.”

  “Nope, sorry.” Olivia twisted and turned under the water’s spray, the bubbles running down and off her body. Kiss. Breasts—Argh! “I’m not doing anything for you.”

  “You will.”

  Another demand, uttered with such determination…determination that should have been annoying rather than sexy. Pressure mounting…again… “Why are you so eager for my aid now?”

  “I want you to see the kind of life I lead. I want you to see the fights and the blood and the pain. I want you to see that I don’t care about anyone other than my friends and Legion, and I will hurt anyone—anyone—who threatens them.”

  Anyone—even Olivia? Even though he’d chosen to help Olivia yesterday and send Legion away? Undoubtedly. Goodbye, pressure. Hello, emptiness. They had been cold, hard words, more vow than threat. He might not want to do so, but he wouldn’t stop himself.

  “All right,” she said. If he wanted to spend the rest of his life showing her those things, she’d let him. And she’d return the favor! She’d show him exactly what he’d be missing if she left. Like the breasts he should be “punished” for ignoring. Like the mouth that wanted so badly to suck on him.

  Pressure…worse than before…

  Breathe, she needed to breathe. She manipulated the knobs until the water shut off, the air around her instantly cooling her. Only, that failed to temper her needs. Little bumps broke out over her soaked skin, and she groaned. No more.

  Perhaps she could give herself relief, she thought, intrigued. Aeron had used his fingers…and she did have fingers of her own… She licked her lips, heart pounding anew. He wouldn’t have to know. She’d turn the water back on, pretend to need more lathering, and—

  “Done?” he asked.

  She tensed. “I—I just—”

  “Olivia, I believe I mentioned that I’m pressed for time.”

  True. He wouldn’t be alive much longer.

  The reminder sobered her, chilled her desire as the air hadn’t. She’d thought she had accepted his coming death. But nine too-short days? That was hardly enough time to experience everything she wanted to experience with him. Especially as stubborn as he was being.

  You’ll have to make it enough.

  “All right,” she said with a sigh, and stepped from the stall. Going with him now would also grant them more time together. And she supposed she wouldn’t torture him with what he’d never have, she thought sourly, hating to abandon so sweet a revenge. She supposed she’d offer her breasts and her needy mouth—and anything else he wanted—without restraint.

  In between the offerings, she could protect Aeron, as she’d vowed to do, should anyone or thing threaten him.

  “All right what?” he asked, confused.

  There was a toothbrush on the shower ledge, along with a tube of minty paste. Having seen humans perform the task a thousand times, she knew what to do and managed to brush her teeth without incident. “All right, I’ll show you where Scarlet lives.”

  Mouth fresh and clean, she grabbed the brush on the counter. The bristles caught on several tangles, making her grimace, but she didn’t stop until her hair was smooth. Next time, she’d remember to bring her robe with her even if she didn’t plan to wear it.

  “What changed your mind?” Suspicion dripped from each word.

  “Arguing with you is a waste of precious time.” True, if somewhat misleading.

  “A rational female. Who would have guessed?”

  She tossed the brush into the sink. “An insensitive male who won’t get a kiss if he keeps that up.” Again, true. And shocking. This vengeful side of her…she liked it.

  Silence greeted her. Did that mean he craved another kiss? Despite her new affinity for tormenting, she tried not to hope too intently.

  “I haven’t hurt Legion, you know,” she said. “Even when she hurt me.”

  “Actually, angel, she hurts whenever you’re near. Or she used to, when you had wings. But I never did, nor did the other warriors, and we’re just as demonic as Legion is. Why was that? Were you doing it on purpose?”

  “Of course not. Though it’s true demons hate to be around angels, you’ve managed to humanize yours. At least somewhat.” Now. Enough talk about Legion, even though Olivia had been the one to bring her up this time. “Do you want to know how to capture Scarlet or not?”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “Yes. I do.”

  She fought a grin. Another apology. Just as grudging, but just as sweet. “Here’s what I know. Because she’s possessed by Nightmares, she’s weakened during the daylight hours.” As she spoke, Olivia studied herself in the foggy mirror. There were bruises under her eyes and her cheeks were a bit hollowed. She only ever wanted Aeron to see her at her best, not like this, but it couldn’t be
helped. “She’s like vampires in that regard. She sleeps during the day, her body too frail even to walk.”

  Aeron took a moment to absorb what she’d said. “We’ll capture her today, then, while she’s sleeping.”

  “Why the urgency? And what do you plan to do with her?”

  “Hunters are in town. We’ve found their hideout, and we now know they’re being aided by Rhea, the god queen. We want to ask Scarlet a few questions, prevent her from helping the Hunters.”

  “I could have told you they were in town, but you refused to listen to me.”

  “I know, I know, and I’m sorry about that, too. So what do you know about Rhea?”

  Yet another apology from him. The man deserved a reward. “I know that she titled herself Mother Earth, and that she’s aiding the Hunters,” Olivia said, even though all she could think about was giving Aeron that reward. “I know that she was weakened inside Tartarus, all the Titans were, and that’s how the Greeks were able to get the demon of Strife to possess her.”

  “I can’t believe I had the information at my fingertips all along,” he muttered. “If her demon is taken from her, will she die? Like us?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why is she helping the Hunters?”

  “For the same reason Galen is leading them. They plan to kill you, and save themselves, then use your demons for their own gains. In Rhea’s case, taking over the heavens and destroying Cronus once and for all.”

  If he had more questions, and she was sure that he did, he didn’t allow himself to ask. Did he plan to go to his other source, whatever—or whoever—it was? And he did have a source. That much was clear. He hadn’t been this knowledgeable before. If he did, he wouldn’t need Olivia, and she hated the thought of that.

  “Thank you for the information,” he said gruffly.

  “You’re welcome.” Push him. Be confident. Aggressive. Show him that he needs you for more than answers. “I accept payment in the form of kisses. And anyway, I believe I owe you two. You apologized for your insensitivity, after all.”

  Aeron cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I never said I’d pay you. Or accept payment. We, uh, need to leave.”