The Darkest Passion lotu-6

by Gena Showalter

  “Wait,” one of the men said. “Stop.”

  “What?”

  “Air. Do you feel the breeze?”

  “We must be close to an opening.”

  Closer still.

  There was a shuffling of feet. Multiple sets. Olivia’s trembling increased, and he squeezed her in reassurance.

  “It’s gotta be a room.” A pause. A crackle. “Yes. Yes! There’s too much space for this to be another hallway.”

  “She can’t be here. She couldn’t have found her way inside.”

  “She’s possessed by the fucking demon of Nightmares. Of course she could have found her way. Just…feel around. She’ll be asleep. If you encounter warm skin, just start shooting.”

  How did they know so much? Had Cronus told his wife? Or again, had someone made use of the Cloak and listened to private conversations?

  “Hell, no. No shooting. We’ll just shoot each other.”

  “That’s better than allowing a demon to go free.”

  There was a beat of shocked silence as the other Hunters absorbed the man’s death wish.

  “We either cut her, or I’m out of here,” someone finally snapped. “I didn’t sign up for a suicide mission.”

  “Then cut her, damn it, but make sure you incapacitate her so we can cart her out without fearing she’ll be strong enough to attack. Every bad dream we’ve ever had is her fault. Every bad thing we’ve ever endured is her doing.”

  More shuffling. Aeron tensed, waiting. If any of them managed to make it to the coffin, he would have to—

  A man screamed.

  “What the hell—”

  Another scream. A gurgle. Followed by another and another.

  There would be no one making it to the coffin.

  Nightmares’s traps would see to that. Several of the Hunters discharged their guns, despite their fear of friendly fire, but the darkness hid the sparking of the powder. One of those bullets slammed into Aeron’s shoulder, knocking him backward.

  He caught himself as several more human screams rent the air. Though he didn’t want Olivia trapped with the girl, unable to protect herself, he didn’t want her shot, either. He slammed the coffin lid shut.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Cut,” someone managed to say between coughs.

  Another scream, this one blending with the rising tide of pained moans and the wafting scent of fresh blood.

  “Retreat,” someone wheezed. “Re— Argh!”

  There was even more shuffling, but the number of moving feet had severely decreased. And then, as more screams and moans abounded, the shuffling ended entirely. Over. Done. It was the battle he’d wanted, craved, yet he hadn’t had to lift a single finger to win.

  He waited until silence reigned before tossing back the lid and saying, “Light.”

  Immediately Olivia obeyed. Once again that nearly blinding light glimmered from her, grew, and conquered the darkness, and he saw that she was pale but unharmed. Scarlet still hadn’t moved.

  “Aeron, I was so—” Olivia sat up and twisted to face him. Her expression immediately became pinched. “You’re hurt.”

  He gazed down at his wound. There was a hole in his shoulder; crimson seeped from it, riding the ridges of his stomach, each drop absorbing into the waist of his pants. Now that his concern for Olivia had faded, and his adrenaline had decreased, he realized it hurt. Fire spread, quickly, surely, as if his veins pumped gasoline rather than blood.

  Didn’t matter. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Been injured worse, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I can’t help it.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she reached out and traced her fingertips over his jaw. “I’m worried.”

  The touch was meant to comfort him. But as always, the feel of her tormented him. He needed more. Wrath needed more, whimpering inside his head.

  Now isn’t the time. Bleeding bodies were piled upon bleeding bodies, blades protruding from each of them. Some had fallen face-first, and others had landed backward. Each had died. He would have to thank the girl for her decorating skills. They, rather than he, had saved Olivia’s life.

  He didn’t know if any of the Hunters had managed to escape this room of terror, but he wasn’t going to wait around to see if they returned with backup. After helping Olivia to her feet—shit! and causing his wound to split—he hefted Nightmares into his arms as he’d wanted to do before they were interrupted.

  “Stay close,” he said. “Only step where I step.”

  “I will.”

  He made his way to the open doorway, darting around bodies along the way, grimacing as the fire inside him intensified.

  Hurt, Wrath cried.

  His lips curved into a frown. You, too?

  Bad.

  We’ll go home. Rest. There were no trails of blood on the stairs, not even a speck. Which meant no one had made it out. Excellent. Except…by the time he reached the top of the stairs, he was trembling. Weakening. His eyes were glazing over, creating a fog everywhere he looked.

  Wrath moaned.

  The fire finally died—only to be replaced by a frigid ice.

  “Aeron?”

  He slowed, his motions sluggish, his feet tripping over each other. “Reach into my back pocket. Grab my phone.” At this rate, he wouldn’t have the strength to fly both women to the fortress.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Olivia asked, doing as he’d requested. “Is it your injury? You told me not to worry!”

  He ignored the question and the concern. He didn’t want to lie to her—again—and tell her everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t have an answer, either. Neither he nor Wrath had ever reacted this way to a simple gunshot.

  “Do you know how to text?” They rounded a corner.

  “No. I’ve seen humans do it, but I’ve never tried it myself.”

  “What about making a call?” Up ahead, he could finally see the sunlight pushing its way into the crypt. Sweat beaded every inch of him, yet that did nothing to melt the ice. His motions were slowing further, dragging.

  “No,” she said again. “I’m sorry.”

  Damn. If he released the girl, he wouldn’t be able to pick her back up. That, he knew. Damn, damn, damn.

  There were only two possibilities that explained this reaction, he realized. Either the Hunters had used some sort of special bullets or he hadn’t truly recovered from their last attack, as he’d assumed. Neither boded well for him.

  Outside—finally, blessedly—he searched for waiting Hunters. He didn’t see any, but wasn’t sure if that was because they weren’t there or because his vision continued to fade. No one jumped out at them, at least.

  Flying or not, he wasn’t going to make it home.

  He searched his surroundings once more, this time looking for a place to hide. There, a few yards ahead, was a large headstone, flowers of every color perched all around it, forming a hidden alcove.

  “This way.” He lumbered forward, weaker with every step.

  Olivia wound her arm around his waist, acting as his crutch. “Here. Lean on me.”

  He didn’t want to, was embarrassed that he needed to, was even more embarrassed that he actually liked having someone take care of him, but with her aid, he managed to make it. “Thank you.”

  He tried to ease Scarlet down, but his knees gave out and the two of them just sort of tumbled forward. She flopped unceremoniously to the ground, and he next to her. Not a peep did she make.

  Nor did Wrath. The demon was silent now. Eerily so.

  Aeron rolled to his side. Olivia, he saw, was busy rearranging the flowers to pin them in and shield them from prying eyes. “Good…girl,” he told her.

  The smile she flicked him was all bravery and iron will. It caused his heart to skip a damned beat. And either he was seeing things that weren’t there or butterflies were actually floating around her head. Squirrels sat at her feet, as well, and birds picked at the grass around her. All of them were watching her, as though waiting for h
er attention.

  Surely he was hallucinating. Which meant he was even worse off than he’d thought. Since he knew he wouldn’t be able to read the numbers on his phone, he told Olivia what to dial.

  “Ringing,” she said, and pressed the device to his ear.

  “Torin,” he said after his friend answered. “Follow signal. Come get…us.”

  He didn’t hear the warrior’s reply. A darkness very similar to what he’d suffered inside that crypt closed around him, and this time, he could only welcome it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  AFTER OLIVIA TORE a strip of cloth from the bottom of her robe and wrapped it around Aeron’s shoulder, she withdrew one of the blades from the sheath anchored to his ankle. I will protect him. No matter the actions necessary. Just as he’d done for her. She crouched in front of him, waiting for his friends to arrive. Or Hunters. If anyone besides a Lord approached, she wouldn’t hesitate to attack.

  Never had she felt more like a warrior, more confident in herself, yet more afraid—for the man beside her. He’d taken bullets before; she’d seen him. He’d been stabbed, beaten and cut with knives and arrows. Yet he hadn’t reacted like this. He hadn’t gone pallid, hadn’t moaned and trembled. Hadn’t continued to bleed and weaken.

  Minute after minute passed, and there was no change in him. Where in heaven’s name were those Lords? They had better hurry, and not just for Aeron’s sake. If they waited too long, dusk would arrive and Scarlet would awaken. And she would be very, very angry.

  No one would survive.

  At least that tempting voice had shut up the moment she’d left the fortress, and stopped urging her to do those vile—wonderful—things. Hardly a silver lining, though. Nothing was. The animals were even now crowding through the flowers and bushes, perhaps drawing the attention of passersby. Trying to get closer to her? Or Aeron? She didn’t remember them ever approaching Aeron before, but couldn’t figure out why the squirrels, rabbits, birds, cats and even a dog would seek her.

  “Scat,” she whispered, not wanting them hurt if a fight did, in fact, break out.

  They didn’t budge. No, they inched closer. To her. So she was the draw. Why?

  “You have to leave now—”

  A twig snapped, quieting her.

  The dog growled and the cats hissed, but none ran away. They crouched, ready to leap into attack.

  Her lips pressed together, every muscle in her body freezing. She even stopped breathing. Who was here? Lords? Or Hunters? The hand holding the blade trembled. For Aeron, she thought, readying like the animals. She was suddenly glad they’d stubbornly stayed with her.

  Two men stepped past the foliage and at first, she didn’t recognize them. She was too prepped, too determined to save this man she…loved? But just as she launched herself at one of them, the dog sprang forward, beating her to the target.

  “Ow! Get off me, you mangy mutt,” he gritted out.

  She recognized the voice—William—but didn’t lower her blade in time, her momentum too swift. Just before contact, a hard hand wrapped around her wrist, jerking her to the side before stilling her.

  “Whoa, there, Liv,” he said with a laugh. His voice was familiar, too. Paris. “I can call you Liv, right? Drop the blade for me, yes?”

  Relief pounded through her, and she released the weapon.

  “Now tell this mutt to let go!” William shouted.

  “They’re friends of mine,” she told the dog. “I’m safe now.”

  The dog removed its teeth from William’s ankle and each of the animals dashed away as if that was all they’d been waiting for. The assurance of her safety.

  What little darlings. “Thank you,” she called gratefully.

  “Now that William’s been properly welcomed,” Paris said with another laugh, “we should get this show on the road.” Concern lit his beautiful face when he spied Aeron. He bent down, slid his arms under the still-sleeping warrior and hefted him over his shoulder. “How long’s he been like this?”

  “Too long.”

  William limped to Scarlet and did the same, only he cradled her in his arms as if she were a precious treasure. “At least I get the pretty package.”

  “Yeah, good luck with her,” Paris replied. “I’d say I got the better end of this deal. Apparently she’s possessed by Nightmares.”

  William rolled his eyes. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “If you don’t like having your balls handed to you, then yeah, I’d say it’s a bad thing.”

  “Come to Daddy,” William said, holding Scarlet all the tighter.

  Olivia listened to their banter, head zinging back and forth between them. “Enough. There were Hunters here, you know. This is a dangerous location. More than that, something’s wrong with Aeron. I want him in bed.”

  “Sure, sure,” William told her with a nod. “We’ve known that from the beginning. But you’re going to have to wait until he wakes up for that kind of sport. When you finish with him, though, I’d love a go at you myself. Show you what it’s like to be with someone who knows what they’re doing, and all that.”

  Her hands fisted. Did he take nothing seriously?

  “We’re parked over here.” Paris jerked his head to the side.

  Finally. “Let’s go.”

  Together they broke through the bushes, and each man went on alert. In the span of a single second, it was as if they were different people. Hidden, they’d joked with each other and teased her about wanting to bed Aeron. Now, they were soldiers, hardened, capable of anything.

  So many times, she’d watched the same change overcome Aeron. Until now, she hadn’t truly appreciated it.

  Aeron. Brave, injured Aeron. When her nine days ticked away and he was taken from her, where would she go? What would she do? She doubted these men would invite her to remain with them. And would she want them to? Aeron would no longer be there, the memory of him taunting her from every corner.

  For the second time, Olivia found herself upset with the short amount of time she and Aeron had. Maybe there was a way to save him. Maybe there was a way for them to be together forever. Yes. Surely. Her Deity was the creator of love. Actually, her Deity was love. He would want two people who loved each other to be together. Right?

  But she still wasn’t sure beyond any doubt that she loved Aeron. Admired him, yes. Was aroused by him and craved his touch, oh, yes. But die in his place? she wondered again. Again, she wasn’t sure. She’d given up everything to be with him—everything except her life.

  Could she?

  Plus, in dying for Aeron, she’d have to die for Legion, as well. Because she knew, knew, Aeron wouldn’t be happy without the little—big now—tyrant. And if Aeron was going to live, she wanted him to be happy while doing so. Yet the thought of dying for such a lying, conniving brat didn’t settle well.

  More than that, Aeron would have to love Olivia. Right now, there was no question that he didn’t.

  Olivia sighed as she climbed into the SUV. Aeron was laid across the backseat, and she cradled his head in her lap. Paris took the wheel and William flopped into the passenger seat with Scarlet still in his arms. Her first time in a car, something she’d looked forward to, but now she didn’t care. Her mind whirled.

  Death wasn’t something she’d ever considered for herself. Not really. She’d just always been and had known she would always be. Now she could die. Not to save someone, but just because, say, a car hit her. How did she feel about that? She didn’t know. All she knew was that dying, without experiencing everything she wanted, was abhorrent. But afterward? Being without Aeron would be far more so.

  She’d seen thousands, millions, of humans die. Not one of those deaths had ever affected her, for they had simply been part of the circle of life. Every beginning had an end. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t mourned the thought of ultimately losing Aeron at first. It would be just another death in a long line of deaths she’d witnessed.

  Now, his was personal. She knew him intimately, had kisse
d and tasted him. Had experienced the ultimate pleasure with him. She had slept in his arms, curled into his side. He had protected her. He could have climbed inside that casket himself, but he hadn’t. He’d placed her inside, ensuring she walked away unscathed rather than himself.

  Therefore, he’d been willing to die for her. Why? Again, she had no illusions that he loved her.

  She heaved another sigh and ran her palm along his scalp. As short as his hair was, the spikes tickled her skin. Later, she would summon Lysander. She would ask him about all of this—and also why he’d visited Aeron before. He wouldn’t be able to lie to her. And if what he said was bad, destroying her hope for a future with this amazing man, she’d…what? She gulped.

  “We shouldn’t leave Gilly in that apartment,” William said suddenly, drawing Olivia from her thoughts. “Not with your enemies buzzing around like flies.”

  “One, Aeron needs to get home. Two, she’s better off there, disassociated from us.” Paris fiddled with the rearview mirror, gaze darting in front of and behind him. “The Hunters have no idea—”

  William slapped a hand on the console between them. “I beg to differ, Sex. They knew about Scarlet, and what contact have we had with her? Almost none. How much have we had with Gilly? Too much. And with Rhea on Team Dumbness, we can’t leave Gilly out there on her own. Besides, Aeron is immortal. He’ll keep. So again, we can’t leave her out there on her own.”

  “Shit. You’re right.”

  “I always am.”

  “We’ll pick her up on the way to the fortress.”

  “She’ll be at school,” William said, and Paris cursed as he made an illegal turn, the tires squealing.

  Olivia thought about complaining. She wanted Aeron safe and doctored as soon as possible, but the men were right. Gilly was human and needed protecting.

  “Shit,” Paris repeated. “She’s at the American International School of Budapest, and it’s located in the Nagykovácsi Campus. I think. Pretty good distance we’ve gotta go.”