“Stay out or die,” he told her flatly. And then he slammed the door closed and whipped around to face Legion.
She trembled, she just couldn’t help herself. There was so much heat in his eyes she was momentarily shocked stupid. It was what she’d wanted from Aeron. What she might never get.
One step, two, he approached her. She backed away. Attack now. Kill him. But she didn’t.
“Scared?” he asked silkily. “You should be.”
She raised her chin, looked behind her—and saw the counter and the mirror. Her reflection stunned her. The fall of golden hair, just begging for a man’s hands. The wide, dark eyes so filled with longing.
Longing? She wanted him? Him? How could she want Hope? He was her enemy. He was Aeron’s enemy.
Strong hands banded around her waist and hefted her up. She gasped as she returned her focus to him. He was already working the button of her jeans. That button gave easily and then he was jerking them off her legs.
He chuckled. “No panties. You are eager for me.”
His amusement irritated her—even as it spiced her desire up another notch. That wasn’t because of him, she told herself. She refused to believe so. She’d wanted to have sex; that was one of the reasons she’d bargained for this body. She’d expected it to be with Aeron, though.
Yet he might never want her that way. Not really.
“Who said I was eager for you? You’re beautiful, yeah, but you’re just a substitute for someone else.” Truth. A truth she liked. She could use him. Have the sex she wanted and then kill him.
Galen’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Is that right?”
“There you go, talking again. I thought I told you how much I hated that.”
“You’re the one who better watch her mouth.” With a growl, he ripped off her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, either. He didn’t ask for permission, but leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth. A mouth that was hot as fire and had her moaning. In pleasure.
This was…wonderful.
Yes. Yes, she’d have the sex she wanted. It would distract him so that she could more easily go in for the kill. That was all the rationale she needed to spread her legs and jerk him into her. His pants-clad erection hit her sweet spot, and she cried out.
Wonderful was not the word to describe that. Perfection was. How much better would it have been with Aeron, then? Aeron. She didn’t want to think about him right now. She only wanted to feel.
“More,” she found herself commanding. She arched into him, rubbing herself against him. Her skin was sensitized and only growing more so. There was an ache inside her, a heat like the one she’d seen in his eyes. Both were building.
“Don’t even want foreplay?” Galen worked at his pants, freeing his erection. It was big. So deliciously big. Demons often had sex while in hell—with each other, the damned souls—so she knew big was preferred and small ridiculed.
“What’s foreplay?” Truly. She had no clue.
He chuckled again. “I like you, female. I really do.” He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. He followed the movement, and she turned her head again.
“No kissing,” she rasped. She wanted to, oh, did she want to, but kissing would kill him before she was finished with him. She looked like a human, yes, but her teeth were pure poison. She could taste it.
She settled her ankles on his lower back, digging in, forcing him to move against her. Mind…fogging…body…burning…
“Kiss me,” he commanded.
“No.”
“Kiss.”
“No!”
“Why not? Not like it’s anything special.”
“Cease…talking!” she growled.
His snarl was like a caress. “Fine. You want a quick fuck, that’s all you’ll get.” He gripped the base of his erection and aimed it between her legs, then he was thrusting forward, all the way inside her.
She cried out in pain, but the pain disappeared as quickly as it had sprouted, leaving only a feeling of utter possession. “More.” He stretched her, filled her up, and it was heady. No wonder all manner of beings did this so often.
“Virgin?” he gasped out, clearly shocked. Wonder of wonders, it appeared as if his expression was softening.
“None of your business. Finish.”
He bared his teeth at her, but in and out he pumped. The stretching and the fullness only increased, pushing her toward…something. Soon she was thrashing against him, desperate for that something, willing to kill everyone in this building if she didn’t get it.
“Hurry.”
“Gods, you feel good.”
She clawed at him, hurtling over…finally over…drifting, spinning, floating, seeing stars winking over her eyes. Every muscle in her body clamped down, let go, clamped down again. It was powerful, it was moving, but all too soon it faded. Leaving her strangely shattered.
Her eyelids flickered open. She was panting. Galen was still inside her, still moving in and out. Absolute pleasure consumed every inch of his features. He must be getting close to his end, as she had done.
And she couldn’t allow that, she thought. He didn’t deserve to feel like that. Even though he’d made her feel better than she ever had before. Even though sex was her new favorite game and she planned to have it as often as possible.
“Galen,” she said, and his shocked gaze met hers. A tremor moved through her, reigniting the fire in her blood. How odd. But there was no time to enjoy another round. “See you in hell.”
With that, she sank her teeth into his neck, clamping down as he roared. A roar born of pain rather than completion. He shoved at her, trying to rip her away, but she held tight, pumping her poison deep into his vein. Only when the last drop left her did she lift her head and smile at him. He’d gone pale, almost green.
“What did you…do to me?” His knees gave out and he sank to the floor.
Silent, she hopped to her feet and dressed. Her knees trembled the entire time. Part of her wanted to stay, to ease him, but she couldn’t forget who and what he was—not again. This had to be done. For Aeron. She owed him this much, at the very least.
“I planned to take you to my man and have him kill you, but this is better. Have a nice life,” she said, and then blew Galen a kiss. “Not that it’ll last much longer.”
AERON STARED over at Lysander. The threat of decapitation had been issued, the angel’s determination unwavering. “Olivia,” he said. He hadn’t moved from beside the bed. He and Wrath were both oddly calm. “Return home. Now. Please.”
“No. No.” She threw her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek into his back. The wet warmth of her tears scalded him. “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”
“You have caused her nothing but pain, demon,” Lysander gritted out. “You did not see her tortured at your enemy’s hand. I did. You didn’t beg her to return home to save herself the pain. I did. And why did she deny me? Because she’d made a promise to you. Because she wanted to say goodbye. Again, to you. I will not give you time to wheedle another promise from her. I will not give you another opportunity to make a mockery of my pact with you. This ends now. Today.” One moment his hands were empty, the next he clutched that sword of fire. A sword he twirled, sparks of flame crackling from it.
Not yet, Wrath cried. Not yet. We must kill Galen first.
“Lysander, no!” Olivia cried. Realizing she’d get nowhere with Aeron, she attempted to move in front of him. “Not the sword. Anything but the sword. I’m begging you.”
Reeling from the force of his guilt, Aeron pushed her back onto the bed and spread his wings to full length. He wanted this battle out of the room and away from Olivia. And there would be a battle. He wouldn’t simply lie down and die. Not yet, as his demon had reminded him. He had too much to do.
“You want me,” he told the warrior angel, “then come and get me.” With that, he launched himself out the window, breaking the glass with the force of his momentum before soaring high into the sky.
Along the way, he dropped his daggers, watching them thump harmlessly on the ground. Olivia loved Lysander. No matter what, even to save himself, Aeron wouldn’t kill the warrior. That would hurt Olivia, and Aeron vowed then and there never to do so again.
No matter the consequences.
Lysander was quick to follow. He knew because Olivia screamed, “No, Lysander. Don’t do this! Come back.”
He hated her worry, her despair. Later, if he still lived, he would soothe her. Give her anything she desired. He would also find a way to save Legion from Lucifer’s possession without having to touch her. He had to. He couldn’t give himself to any woman but Olivia. He had no illusions about that now.
She’d stayed for him. She’d endured a Hunter’s brutality for him. He would not penalize her for that.
Reward.
Always. Aeron twisted midair, and sure enough, a scowling Lysander was only a few feet away. He no longer held the sword, his hands empty but balled. The moment their gazes met, both of them stilled, hovering, not quite within striking distance.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Aeron said.
“It can be no other way. You claim to love her,” the angel snarled, “and yet you would keep her here while you bed another. You would ruin her spirit.”
“I had planned to let her go first!” But would he ever have been able to do so? He’d wanted to kill something every time he’d considered it. And when she’d wanted to go, he’d convinced her to stay a little longer. Despite the danger.
No, he never would have been able to let her go. He never would have been able to sleep with Legion.
He would have reached this decision eventually. Lysander had merely sped it along.
“I will only ever be with her,” he said with a proud tilt of his chin.
“And that’s worth continuing to allow her to put herself at risk? Do you know what the Hunters did to her?”
He shook his head, stomach clenched painfully. “No. But I saw her, saw the end results, and I will be haunted by that image for all eternity.”
“That’s not enough! Listen. And know. Stefano hit her with a closed fist, as well as an open palm. He broke her bones. Tried to drown her. She, who has not a single thread of malice inside her. And the demons, the ones she battled to reach you? They touched her in places only a lover should. But she endured it all. For you.”
Hearing that, Aeron spread his arms, face lifted to the highest part of the sky and roared. Roared with fury so potent he had never known its like. He’d known Olivia had been hurt; as he’d said, he’d seen the evidence. He’d raged even then. But now, having the details tossed at him, sharper than any blade…that rage intensified. Grew. She was so delicate, so fragile. She could have died, alone and human. Wrecked by pain.
Punish.
“Stefano will pay. By my hand.” Target, switched. End result, the same. Another vow. He’d already decided to kill anyone involved, but this…Stefano would be brought to the brink of death over and over again, only to be revived so they could start again. “The demons, too.”
PUNISH!
“I have stood back and watched all of this, helpless to stop it from happening.” Some of Lysander’s own rage seemed to cool. “I tried bargaining with you. I tried helping your cause, even distracting the gods who pulled your strings. But no longer. You will feel pain by my hand. You will suffer as my Olivia has suffered.”
Pinpricks of red dotted Aeron’s vision. “She is not your Olivia. She is mine.”
Ours. Ours to protect, ours to reward.
“For how much longer?” the angel snapped.
“Forever.”
“Don’t you understand?” Lysander shouted. “You can’t give her forever. You decided not to bed the demon Legion, only Olivia, so Lucifer will be coming for you. There’s no way around that. Your friends will die, one by one. Their demons will not be able to defeat their master. And that’s what Lucifer is to them. Master. The women will be next. Think that your woman, your human woman, will be overlooked? Only your death can fix the problems you have wrought.”
Wings flapped, a war cry sounded, and then Lysander was there, all distance between them conquered. They collided, rolling through the air. Fists hammered at him, even as his own hammered at the angel in defense. There were grunts and groans, explosions of breath. Their legs tangled, kicked.
So engrossed did they become, they forgot to flap their wings and began to fall toward a rocky cliff in a clashing heap. Just before contact, Aeron realized what was happening and latched onto the angel’s hair, pushing his wings with all his might. The two of them darted back into the sky.
Lysander ripped free and nailed Aeron in the mouth. Pain exploded through his teeth and gums, blood trickling down his throat. As the angel came at him again, Aeron kicked him in the stomach, sending him propelling backward. They’d reached the fortress, and the angel slammed into a wall. Stones crumbled and dust plumed around him.
Through that dust, he shot forward, knocking into Aeron and sending him hurtling back toward the ground. This time, he didn’t catch himself and hit full force. Oxygen abandoned him, nothing more than a sweet dream. A few bones even snapped apart.
He quickly stood—cringed as his ankle gave—and pushed back into the air. One of his wings was broken. Not again, he thought, ignoring the pain screaming through him. Where was Lysander? His gaze circled the area, but he— A hard weight punted him in the back, spinning him through the air.
He knew Lysander would be waiting, ready to punch him the moment he stilled. And so when that inevitable moment of stillness came, he slashed first, managing to make contact with Lysander’s side. Perhaps smashing a kidney.
That would have felled anyone else. The angel merely grunted. But he didn’t attack again. He remained in place, golden wings gliding smoothly up and down. “You want to save both Olivia and Legion, as well as your friends?”
Aeron, too, remained in place, panting, sweating. “Yes.” More than anything.
“Well, the only way to do that is to die.”
Of course Lysander would say so. “Legion’s bargain—”
“Is voided if you die before the allotted time. That was part of their terms.”
Voided. Voided with his death. She would be free. His friends could live without the threat she now presented. But… “Olivia?” he asked through the sudden knot in his throat.
“Will be able to go home, without the guilt of knowing you hurt someone you loved because of her. Without the burden of wondering if you will one day resent her. Without the shame of leaving you behind, if she decided you would one day resent her. Without being captured once more by your enemy. Without fearing she’ll be forced to kill you.”
She would do anything for Aeron. He knew that now. She would endure any hardship, any mental or physical pain. And that’s what his life would bring her. Pain. No matter what he did, how he lived, he would bring her pain. Key word: lived.
He couldn’t do that to her. Couldn’t give her that choice. She shouldn’t have to endure anything, whether she was willing or not.
Without him, she could live without guilt and shame. Without pain. And that was what got him. The thought of her living as she was meant to: happy, free, safe.
We are to die now? Wrath asked, knowing, as he always did, the direction of Aeron’s thoughts.
I am.
And me?
You will continue on. Crazed, but Aeron didn’t remind the demon of that.
To punish. A statement, not a question.
Yes. To punish. He prayed the demon remembered this after their parting. They hurt her.
So they will die.
So simple. Thank you for everything. Now, for the rest. “You’ll protect her?” he asked Lysander. “Always?”
“Always.”
“And my demon?” If the angel meant to—
“Your demon will be contained. Galen now has Distrust, therefore to balance the scales, I will capture Wrath and give
him to Cronus. I have already spoken to the god king, and he has chosen a body. A body that belongs to someone he’ll be able to monitor himself, ensuring she doesn’t aid your enemy or hurt your friends.”
Panic bloomed. “She?” Not Olivia, not Legion. Surely.
“No, not Olivia or Legion,” Lysander assured him, clearly sensing his thoughts. “Have no worries on that score. Legion will return home. And as I told you, I will see to Olivia’s care myself, now and always.”
“Wrath has a mission to complete. Will you ensure that Cronus—”
“I sense the nature of the mission, and I will ensure it’s completed. In a manner you would find highly satisfactory.”
Very well, then. Though he hated that he would have no part in the upcoming massacre, and that’s what it would be. “I have one last request, before I allow you to end my life.”
A nod. “Ask.”
“Olivia craves fun. She needs to have fun.”
Before the last word had left Aeron’s mouth, Lysander had begun shaking his head. “Such a need stemmed from her association with you. Once you are gone—”
“Vow it or the fight continues!” On this, too, he would not bend.
Lysander scowled at him. “I will do my best.”
“That isn’t good enough,” he gritted out. “You live with Bianka, a Harpy. I know the little witch is fun incarnate.”
“Yes,” Lysander said, and there was pride in his tone. Pride Aeron probably exhibited himself when he spoke of Olivia. “Very well. I will make certain they spend time together.”
All the details were taken care of, then.
Death, he thought next. Here it was, staring him in the eye. It had finally caught up with him, and he was willing. There was no resistance on his part. Again, he waited for emotions to consume him but again, they remained absent.
He would have liked to say goodbye to Olivia, to remind her that he loved her. But she would try and talk him out of this. He knew it, just as he knew he would crumble. This had to happen now.
Aeron drew in a deep breath, held it…held it…Then, as he slowly released it, he splayed his arms. “Do it. Take my head.”
The Darkest Passion lotu-6 Page 37
