No reply.
“Gwen?”
A breathy sigh. She’d fallen asleep again. He covered her more securely and settled in beside her, resigned to the now familiar task of waiting for her to wake up.
“MOVE EVEN AN INCH, and I’ll take your goddamn head off.”
Sabin came awake instantly. Cold steel pressed into his jugular, a bead of blood trekking down his neck. His bedroom was dark, the curtains over the window drawn. He drew in a breath and caught a scent—female. The intruder smelled of ice and wintry skies. Her long hair tickled his bare chest.
“Why’s my sister in your bed? And why is she sleeping—and injured? Don’t tell me she’s fine or I’ll make you eat your own tongue. I can smell the wounds on her.”
The other Harpies had arrived.
Apparently they’d blown through Torin’s state-of-the-art security without a single problem, because none of the alarms were screeching. Still more proof that he needed these women on his team—assuming he still had a team. “Are my men still breathing?”
“For now.” The blade pressed deeper. “Well? I’m waiting, and I’m not the most patient of creatures.”
Sabin remained utterly still, not even trying to go for the weapon under his pillow. Some help here, he said to Doubt.
I thought you hated me.
Will you just do your job?
He swore to the gods the demon sighed inside his head. Are you sure you want to hurt this man? Doubt asked the Harpy. What if he’s Gwen’s lover? Gwen might hate you forever.
Her hand trembled against him, loosening slightly.
Good boy. It was moments like this that made him appreciate the beauty of his curse. “She’s here because she wants to be here. And she’s injured because my enemy came after us.”
“And you didn’t protect her?”
“You’re one to talk.” His teeth ground together. “No. I didn’t. But I learn from my mistakes and it will never happen again.”
“You’re right about that. Did you give her blood?”
“No.”
There was an irritated growl. “No wonder she’s sleeping with you in the room! How long ago was she injured?”
“Three days.”
A gasp of outrage. “She needs blood, you ass. Otherwise she’ll never recover.”
“How do you know? She told me she’s never been injured.”
“Oh, she’s been injured, she just doesn’t remember. We made sure of it. And just so you know, you’re going to pay for every mark on her. Oh, and if I find out you’re lying, that you’re the one who hurt her…”
“I haven’t personally injured her.” Yet. The thought sobered him as nothing else could have.
She eyed him from top to bottom. “Look, I might be impressed by the stories I’ve heard about you, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to trust you.”
“Talk to Gwen, then.”
“I will. In a minute. So tell me. Which demon are you?”
He debated the wisdom of replying. If she knew the truth, she would know to guard herself against Doubt.
“I’m waiting.” The tip of the blade pressed into his carotid.
What the hell, he decided. If he had to unleash the demon, she wouldn’t stand a chance even if she knew what it was. No one did, not even him. “I’m possessed by Doubt.”
“Oh.” Was that disappointment in her tone? “I was hoping for Sex, or whatever you call him. The stories of his conquests are my favorite.”
Yep, disappointment. “I’ll introduce you.” Maybe a good bedding from Paris would lighten the woman’s attitude. For that matter, maybe a good bedding from the woman would lighten Paris’s attitude.
“Don’t bother. I won’t be here long enough to make any memories. Gwen.” In the next instant, Gwen’s body was quaking against him.
The sister was fucking shaking her, he realized with a snarl. Sabin latched on to the Harpy’s wrist. “Stop. You’ll hurt her worse.”
Abruptly the knife left him, her arm ripping free of his grip, and the light was switched on. His eyes watered and he blinked. The Harpy was once again at his neck, but he hadn’t had time to move.
When his vision cleared, he studied her. She was lovely, her skin as luminous as Gwen’s was. But for some reason, Sabin wasn’t transfixed, wasn’t overcome with the urge to bed her. She had bright red hair, not streaked with blond like Gwen’s. They possessed the same amber-gray eyes, though, and the same sensual red lips. Yet where innocence always drifted from Gwen, this woman pulsed with centuries of knowledge and power.
“Listen,” he began, only to be silenced as the knife cut past his skin.
“No. You listen. I’m Kaia. Be glad it’s me who’s wielding the blade rather than Bianka or Taliyah. You phoned Bianka, refused to let her speak with Gwennie, and now she wants to beat you—with your own limbs. Taliyah wants to feed you to our snakes, piece by piece. Me, I’m willing to give you a chance to explain. What were your plans for her?”
He could talk, tell her what she wanted to know, but he wouldn’t. Not like this. If Gwen’s sisters were going to hang around—for despite Kaia’s anger, he thought that they would—and if they were going to fight for him, he had to assert himself as commander.
Without even a twitch of muscle to alert her to his plans, Sabin jerked Kaia on top of him. The blade sank deep, hit a tendon, but he didn’t slow. He rolled her over, away from Gwen, and pinned her with his muscled weight.
Rather than fight him, she laughed, the tinkling sound like candy for his ears. “Smooth move. No wonder she’s in your bed. Must say I’m a little disappointed you didn’t go for my head, though. I expected better of a Lord of the Underworld.”
The bouncing mattress must have finally woken Gwen, because she gasped weakly. Croaked out, “Kaia?”
Kaia shifted her attention, a beauteous smile playing at her lips. “Hiya, baby. Long time no see. And I know you’re thinking I’m mad at you right now for falling asleep, but you’re wrong. I know where to place the blame. In fact, your man and I were just working out a few details about your stay here. How are you?”
“You’re underneath him. You’re underneath Sabin.” Gwen’s pupils were bleeding into gold…white…Her nails were elongating, sharpening. Her teeth gleamed menacingly in the light.
Kaia gaped. “She’s…is she really…”
“Yep. Going Harpy.” Shit. Sabin shoved Kaia from the bed with all of his might. She landed on the floor with a thwack, but he didn’t care. The moment his arms were free, he pulled Gwen into the heat of his body, one hand winding loosely around her neck and caressing her face, the other stroking the soft contours of her belly, where her shirt had ridden up.
Those claws latched on to his shoulders and sank all the way to bone, but he gave no reaction to the pain. She could have done far, far worse.
“We were only talking. I wasn’t going to hurt her. I pinned her to get her blade out of my neck, nothing more. She’s here to help you, wants the best for you.”
“Do you want her?” Gwen rasped.
Bastard that he was, he was pleased by her jealousy. “No. I don’t. And she doesn’t want me, either. I swear it. You know I only want you.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw that Kaia had stood and was now watching him raptly.
Gradually, Gwen’s nails receded, leaving wide, bleeding gashes. Her gaze cleared. And through it all, Doubt was strangely silent. Like, dead silent, as if it had hidden in the deepest part of Sabin’s mind.
“Wow,” Kaia finally said, and there was an edge to her tone. “Impressive. You talked a Harpy from her rage. You know what that means, don’t you?”
He didn’t spare her a glance. He kept his attention on Gwen and slid his hand down her leg, then he angled her so that her knee was propped on his hip, cradling their lower bodies together. “No. I don’t.”
“You’re my sister’s consort. Congratulations.”
CHAPTER 17
Gwen had never been more nervous in
her life. Not in her prison cell. Not even when she’d faced the Hunters with Sabin.
After watching Sabin calm the Harpy, Kaia had summoned Bianka and Taliyah with a sharp whistle. Apparently, they’d been in the hallway, making sure no one approached while Kaia rescued Gwen. Then the three sisters had barricaded themselves inside Sabin’s bedroom for a little “chat.”
“No one else knows we’re here,” Bianka had said. “So it’s just gonna be the five of us.”
Gwen would have protested the coming chat, the isolation—this kind of scenario always ended in bloodshed for the Skyhawks—but several things stopped her. One, Sabin had a death grip on her, keeping her pinned against his side. Why? Did he think she would race to her sisters and demand they slaughter him? Two, she was as weak as a newborn kitten, barely able to hold up her eyelids. Plus, her shoulder and chest burned painfully. If Sabin had let her go, she would have collapsed against the headboard. And three, she planned to be brave one more time and act as Sabin’s shield. If her sisters, who were angry at her treatment and seemed to have conveniently forgotten they’d once admired the Lords, came after him…
Why she cared, she didn’t know. Only minutes ago, he’d been embracing Kaia. Hadn’t he? The memory was fuzzy, as if she’d watched the couple on a screen rather than in real life. Real or not, though, it had pissed the hell out of her. Sabin belonged to Gwen. For now, at least. And not because they’d showered together and he’d given her the best orgasm of her life. But because, well, she didn’t know. He just did.
“Before we start talking, let’s take care of baby girl.” Kaia strode to her now, cutting her wrist along the way, and held it to Gwen’s mouth. “Drink.”
She’d drunk from her sisters throughout her childhood, “to be safe from any injury you might obtain,” they’d always told her. They themselves drank from any boyfriend they had at the time before heading to a battle or any kind of job. So it wasn’t an odd command. After all, vampires weren’t the only race that required blood, though Harpies only needed it for healing or to prevent injuries. But just as she fit her lips over the dripping wound, Sabin grasped her by the neck and spun her around so that she was facing him.
“Hey,” Kaia growled.
His neck had a long, thick gash, a gash he’d now reopened with a slash of his razored nail. “If she needs to drink, she’ll drink from me.”
He didn’t give anyone time to protest, but jerked Gwen forward, holding her head completely immobile to prevent her from turning away. Like she would. Already she could smell the sweetness of his scent. Lemons and blood. It filled her nostrils, drifted into her lungs and spread through the rest of her, leaving a trail of tingling warmth.
Unable to stop herself, mouth watering, she traced her tongue over the wound. Ecstasy. A fruity dessert. Her eyes closed and she fit herself against his body, arms wrapping around him to hold him captive, knees caging his legs. The angel side of her knew this was wrong, that she shouldn’t do it and certainly shouldn’t like it, but the Harpy side of her sang happily, desperate for more, for nothing had ever tasted like this. Like heaven and hell, perfect and wicked and sure to be her downfall.
On and on she sucked, drawing the liquid decadence into her mouth, down her throat. With every swallow a little more of her strength returned. The ache in her wounds began to ebb, the tissue weaving back together. How had she ever lived without this? Thankfully, blood didn’t have to be stolen to be enjoyed. It was a source of medicine, not food. She should have thought to drink from Sabin before.
Through it all, Sabin remained still. Between her legs, however, she could feel the hard length of his erection. His fingers had fallen to her hips and were digging deep, holding her immobile.
She could hear his breath raging in her ears, could even hear a few of his thoughts: yes, yes, more, don’t stop, so good, must…bed…mine. Or maybe they were her own.
“Don’t drain him, baby girl,” Bianka said, breaking through the mire of Gwen’s new addiction. “We have a few questions for him first.”
Nails dug into her scalp, and her head was torn away from Sabin’s neck. She yelped, blood trickling from her parted lips.
He snarled low in his throat, glaring over at Bianka while tightening his grip on Gwen. “Touch her like that again and you’ll be saying goodbye to your hands.”
Grinning, Bianka twirled a strand of black hair around her finger. “Now there’s the Lord of the Underworld I’ve heard so much about. I almost believe you’ll do it, demon. Well, try to do it.”
“I never make a threat I don’t intend to see through,” he said, turning Gwen and smashing her against his side once more.
She almost moaned. Her sisters never—never—backed down from a challenge. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, hoping to distract them.
“The big guy not taking care of you?” Kaia strolled around the room, lifting knickknacks, opening dresser drawers. “Oh, sweet. Black briefs are my favorite.” She even crouched in front of Sabin’s weapons case, broke the lock with a twist of her wrist and flipped open the lid. “Hmm, lookie what I found.”
“He’s taking care of me,” Gwen said, oddly defensive of him. He’d released her from captivity, guarded her, planned to teach her how to defend herself. The Hunter thing was her own fault. She should have stayed in the car. She couldn’t regret that she’d emerged to help, though. He was alive. Safe.
Are you being truthful with your sisters, because I can think of several instances that Sabin—
“Sorry,” Sabin muttered.
Good thing he’d shut that stupid demon up, because the Harpy had started squawking the moment its voice had filled her head.
Bianka joined Kaia at the chest, and they oohed and ahhed over the guns and knives. Weapons were their kryptonite. Taliyah stepped to the edge of the bed, staring down at her, expression blank, emotionless. No one was more beautiful than Taliyah. She possessed white hair, white skin, eyes of the palest blue. She was like a snow queen—and many a person had actually accused her of having ice in her veins. Not that they’d lived long afterward.
“I know your situation with the Hunters,” she said to Sabin. “I’ve heard tales of your viciousness and have admired you for it. I’ve even hoped to meet you. But now I want to kill you for bringing my sister into this mess. She isn’t a fighter.”
“She could be.” Several seconds passed, but Sabin didn’t add anything else. Didn’t try to defend himself.
He was going to leave it at that? Let them think she’d shacked up with him and he’d placed her in danger for no reason, rather than tell them the truth, that she’d been stupid, caught and caged? That he’d saved her. If he told them the truth, he would guarantee their participation in his war. A war he placed above everything else in his life, even love. Why would he do that? For her?
Tears suddenly burned her eyes, threatening to spill over. Well, she could do something for him. “Actually, the Hunters brought me in,” Gwen admitted, twisting the sheets.
“Gwen,” Sabin said. A warning.
“They need to know everything.” For his sake, and her own. Gathering her strength, she told her sisters about her confinement, leaving no detail out. As she spoke, the tears fell freely. Only a few minutes passed, but they were the most mortifying minutes of her life. Sabin, like her sisters, admired strength. Ferocity. Yet here she was, broadcasting her weakness to the only people who mattered to her.
He surprised her by tenderly wiping away the salty beads that cascaded down her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. That made her cry even harder.
When she finished, silence encompassed the room. Tension thickened the air, creating a crackling suspension of time.
Taliyah was the first to speak. “How did they get you?”
The cold tone of her voice sent a shiver through Gwen. “Tyson forgot his cell phone one morning when he left for work, and I knew he’d want it. But he was too far down the road for me to catch at human speed so I…” She gulped. Such a stupid mistake, o
ne she’d regretted every day since. “I used my wings and beat him to his office. Hunters saw me when I stopped, thought I had magically appeared, though I didn’t know it at the time. I guess they followed me home, waited until later that night when Tyson and I—” she gulped “—fell asleep.”
“You slept in bed with Tyson?” three female voices said at once.
“What’s with you Harpies and sleep?” Sabin stiffened against her. “Not that I think you’re wrong to be disgusted by anyone in bed with chicken man. It’s that bastard Tyson who needs to die. He didn’t protect her.”
“Neither did you,” Taliyah said flatly.
“I’m alive because of Sabin.” Gwen offered him a shaky smile. “And Tyson’s not a bad guy. He tried to save me before they knocked him out.” Even though he’d been upset with her.
When he’d come home from work that evening, he hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened. She’d utterly freaked him out by beating him to his office—because he’d already begun to notice other, weirder things about her.
She’d hidden her dark side as best she could but sometimes it had emerged despite her, and he would come home to holes in the wall, ripped sheets, smashed dishes. Once, during a silly argument about whose turn it was to pick what DVD they’d watch, she’d even shoved him into a wall and the plaster had collapsed on him. They’d kissed and made up, but that had been the beginning of the end.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I found myself wrapped up, unable to move, barely able to breathe as the Hunters flew me to Egypt. They locked me up and twelve months later Sabin and the other Lords set me free and brought me here.”
“You killed the men responsible for her torment, of course?” Taliyah asked Sabin.
He nodded. “Gwen killed one. I killed some of the others.”
Her powder blue eyes flared in anger. “Why not all? And good job, Gwen,” she added with a nod of approval.
Before she could admit it had been an accident, Sabin said, “The survivors are being held in my dungeon and tortured for information.”
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