The Darkest Fire lotu-1

by Gena Showalter

  There was a beat of silence.

  "What would you have me do?" he repeated rather than answer. He did not wish to admit the reason for his folly and the subsequent humiliation.

  Her arm dropped to her side, and her expression softened. "I am Kadence," she said, as though he had asked for her name rather than instruction.

  Kadence. How he loved the way the syllables rolled through his mind, smooth as velvet—gods, how long since he'd touched a material so fine?—and sweet as wine. How long since he'd tasted such a drink?

  "I am Geryon." Once, he'd had a different name. Upon arriving here, however, Lucifer had dubbed him Geryon. Guardian of the Damned, it translated to, which was what he was and all he would ever be.

  Some legends, a demon had once jeered at him, proclaimed him to be a three-headed centaur. Some, a vicious dog. Nothing compared to what he was, so he did not mind the stories.

  "I am yours to command," he said, adding, "Kadence." Tasted even better on his tongue.

  Breath caught in her throat; he heard the hitch of it. "You say my name like a prayer." There was astonishment in her tone.

  Had he? "I am sorry."

  "Don't be." Her cheeks flushed prettily. Then she clapped her hands and brought the conversation back to what should have been their primary concern. "First we must patch these cracks."

  He nodded but said, "I fear the wall is already compromised. Patching will merely strengthen it for a time." But might not prevent an eventual fall, he did not add.

  "Yes. Knowing demons as I have come to, they will return and inflict more damage." Once more she turned to him. Once more she lifted her gaze to him, kernels of fear swirling where there should only be satisfaction. A crime. "Geryon," she began, only to press her lush lips together.

  What was left of his heart skidded to an abrupt stop. She was just so lovely, her gentleness and goodness setting her apart from everything he represented. He wanted to duck his head, hide his ugliness from her. "Yes?"

  "I should not ask this of you, but I know not what else to do."

  "Ask me anything you desire." He would see it was done, no matter the consequences. "It will be my pleasure to aid you."

  "I pray you remember those words. For after we've repaired the wall, we must enter hell—and hunt the demons who would destroy it."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  For hours Geryon worked at repairing the wall, pleading with Kadence all the while to remain behind. Demons were dangerous, he said. Demons liked their prey alive and fresh, he said. What he did not say was that she was fragile, breakable. No, he did not need to say it; she read the thoughts in the ever-growing warmth of his eyes.

  Through it all, she refused to allow him to go alone. She had not bartered something that would surely earn her the wrath of the gods, only to send him on a mission he could not hope to win without her.

  While the demons were not hers to command, she could force them to bow to her. She hoped. Besides, she might appear fragile and breakable, but she possessed a core of iron.

  Something she'd finally proven to Lucifer earlier.

  As a child, she had been an indomitable force. A whirlwind that trampled anything and everything in her path. It had not been intentional. She'd simply followed the quiet urgings inside her head. Dominate. Master. When she'd realized she had chipped away at her own mother's strength of mind, turning the once vibrant goddess into a lifeless shell, she had retreated inside herself, afraid of who and what she was. Afraid of what she could do, unintentional though it was.

  Sadly, with those fears came others, as if she'd opened a doorway in her mind and placed a welcome mat out front. Fear of people, places, emotions. For centuries she had acted like the mouse Lucifer had called her.

  Underneath the fears, however, she was still the goddess she'd been born to be: Oppression. She conquered. She did not cower. Please, do not let me cower. Not any longer.

  Only a few moments ago, Geryon had reluctantly pried apart the boulders blocking the cavern from a yawning pit—only a small slit—flames and scaled arms instantly reaching out. He had entered first, commanding both to recede. To her surprise, they had obeyed the instant she came through. Part of her wanted to believe they had done so because they'd been afraid of her. The other part of her knew they'd feared Geryon.

  "Ready, goddess?" he anchored himself on a ledge of the wall. He was to the left of the gate, she on the right. "Ready?" he insisted, reaching toward her. To protect her? Aid her? They were hanging onto a massive rock, after all, a fiery pit waiting to catch them should they fall.

  "Yes." Finally, I will know his touch. Surely it will not be as divine as my body expects. Nothing could be. But just before contact, he lowered his arm and inched further away from her. She sighed in disappointment and tightened her grip on the wall, balancing her feet on the thin ledge as best she could.

  "This way." He motioned toward the crack with a tilt of his chin.

  "All right. And Geryon? Thank you. For everything." Usually she whisked herself to Lucifer's palace without ever opening the gate, too afraid to fall into this smoldering pit and explore the wasteland waiting below. Not today. She couldn't.

  "You are welcome." He pushed the stones back together.

  She waved her hand over them, leaving traces of her power there. Because there was no longer a guardian stationed out front, the extra fortification was needed—despite the fact that providing it weakened her.

  As fragments of her power adhered to the stones, she was careful to maintain distance from them. Supposedly Geryon was the only one who could touch the gate without consequence. Well, besides Hades and Lucifer. Anyone else, the stones heaped untold pain and horror upon.

  She had never dared test the supposition.

  A thought occurred to her, and she tilted her head, studying her companion. Without Geryon at the gate, who would open the stones to allow damned souls inside? Perhaps Lucifer had already appointed another guardian. Perhaps? She chuckled without humor. He had. He couldn't leave the gates unguarded. The knowledge that Geryon would not be the man she saw every day…saddened her. For when the wall was safe, Geryon could leave but she would be stuck here.

  Do not think about that now. She glanced around. The air was smokier here, she noticed, hotter. So hot, in fact, sweat instantly beaded on her skin, trickling down her temples, between her breasts. And as Geryon climbed over her to position himself in front of her, widening the distance between them, no longer did she smell the decadent scent of powerful male; she smelled only the pungent odor of decay. Screams and curses assaulted her ears.

  Something fiery brushed the back of her neck, and she yelped.

  Geryon jumped into immediate action, growling and swiping out his claw. But the flame receded, and she would swear she heard it laugh.

  No, they were not intimidated by her.

  "Are you all right?" Geryon asked her.

  "Yes," she said, but gods, what had she gotten herself into?

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Perhaps the wall is not as damaged as I feared," Kadence told Geryon. Maintaining a firm grip, she used the jagged stones to edge along, ever conscious of the seemingly endless void awaiting her should she lose her balance. "A goddess can hope, at least."

  "Yes, a goddess can hope." Geryon kept a steady pace in front of her, remaining as close as possible every inch of the way without actually touching her.

  She yearned to slide against him, drink in his strength, belong to him if only for a moment, but she did not, too afraid of startling him. And not even when a rock tumbled from the small ledge on which she had placed her foot did she relent. Sadly, neither did he.

  "Do not show the flames fear," he said. "They feed on it, will try to increase it."

  "They are alive?"

  "Some of them."

  Dear gods. How had she not known? "I did not imagine such a climb would be necessary. I assumed we would flash wherever we needed to go. Silly of me."

  "Flash?"

  "Yes. The abi
lity to move from one location to another with only a thought."

  "Would be difficult to flash along this wall. You might end up in a spot without a ledge. When we finish here, can you flash us to the bottom of the pit? Once there, we can search for the demons on foot."

  "No," she said on a sigh. "I wish, but no. I've never taken this route. I would not know where to stop, and might very well cause us to materialize underground."

  He did not show any disappointment. "Still, it is a handy power to possess. I envy you."

  Poor man. He'd been stuck at the gates of hell for more years than she could count. "If you could flash to anywhere in the world, where would you go?" Once they'd destroyed the demons trying to escape, perhaps she would take him there.

  He grunted. "I do not wish to lie to you, goddess, therefore I will not answer your question."

  Curiosity bombarded her. Why would he not answer such a question? Unless…did his answer embarrass him? If so, why? She desperately wanted to know, but let the matter drop. For now.

  When they reached the far side of the wall, he somehow angled himself behind her. Still he didn't touch her, yet she felt the heat of him pressing into her back, holding her steady. It was not a heat she minded, even amidst the smoldering furnace that was hell. His was…heady.

  "I'm sorry to say it's worse than I thought it would be." His breath trekked over her.

  "Wh—what?" she asked, horrified. Being near her was worse than he'd thought?

  "The wall. What else?"

  Thank the gods, she thought, expelling a breath. Foolish woman. Her life depended on this wall. She should not care whether a man found her attractive. Or not.

  She forced her gaze straight ahead, her mind centered on her job, not the intriguing man behind her. At least somewhat. Thick claw marks abounded. And what had appeared to be thin grooves on the other side were massive craters here. Hope abandoned her.

  "They are more determined than I realized," she said, voice trembling slightly.

  Geryon adjusted his grip, his arm just over her shoulder. A tremor raked her. If she stood on her tiptoes, she would feel his skin against her chimation. Though it had been hundreds of years since she'd had a man, she remembered the comfort such simple contact could offer.

  "Do not worry. I will not allow them to hurt you."

  "And I will not allow them to hurt you," she vowed.

  Chuckling, he latched onto her waist. She gasped. Finally. It was amazing and wonderful…wild and intense. But there was no comfort in it, as she'd expected. No, instead she experienced white-hot, searing arousal.

  "Geryon?"

  "Time to fall, goddess," he said, and then he released the rocks, taking her over the edge with him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  They seemed to fall forever. Geryon retained an iron-edged grip on the trembling Kadence, her hair whipping around them like angry silk ribbons. She didn't scream, something he'd expected, but she did wind her legs around him, something he had not.

  It was his first taste of heaven.

  "I've got you," he said. Her body fit perfectly against his, soft where he was hard, smooth where he was callused.

  "When does it end?" she whispered, but still he caught the undercurrents of panic in her voice.

  They were not twirling, were merely dropping, but he knew the sensation could be harrowing. Especially, he reflected, for one used to flashing ly from one place to another. "Soon." He'd fallen like this only once before, when Lucifer took him to the palace to explain his new duties. But he had never forgotten.

  Like before, flames kindled all around them, pinpricks of gold in the shuddering darkness. Except before, those flames had flicked like snake tongues, licking at him. That they didn't now…did they fear him? Or the goddess?

  She was more everything than Geryon had realized. More courageous. More determined. Every minute he spent with her, his desire for her intensified. She was the break of dawn in the bleakness that was his life. She was refreshing ice in smoldering heat.

  She is not for you.

  Ugly as he was, she would run fast and far if she knew the many fantasies his mind had begun to weave of them. Him, laying her on the ground, stripping her, dancing his tongue over every delicious inch of her. Her, moaning in pleasure as he tasted her core. Crying out in abandon as he filled her with his shaft.

  "What's wrong?" she asked, her still-rising panic evident.

  "Nothing's wrong," he lied. "Just a little farther and we'll hit. Landing will jar you, but I'll absorb most of the impact." He moved one of his hands up and onto the base of her neck. Offering comfort, he told himself. He'd tried not to touch her, had fought it, but there'd been no other way to protect her inside the pit.

  What was the harm in adjusting a single hand?

  "But you stiffened."

  More so than she probably realized, he thought dryly. I must stop craving her. Her skin was soft, so soft, and he felt little bumps rise under his palm as he gently massaged.

  To his delight, her muscles relaxed under his ministrations. "Tell me what's wrong," she said. "You're hiding something, I can tell. I know this pit is made for souls, not breathing, flesh and blood bodies. Are we going to—"

  "No. I swear it. We will live." The conversation seemed to calm her, so he said, "Tell me about you. About your childhood."

  "I—all right. But there's not much to tell. I was not allowed out of my home as a child. For the greater good," she added, as though the line had been fed to her many times before.

  He hugged her tight, understanding. Because of her nature, she'd been as much an outcast as he was. "Goddess, I—" The air was thickening around them, the flames spraying what looked to be molten teardrops. He recognized the signs; the end was near. "Drop your legs from me, but do not let them touch the ground."

  "All rig—"

  "Now!"

  Boom. They smacked into the ground and Geryon planted his feet as the impact vibrated through him. He tried to remain upright to keep the goddess from the ground, but his knees soon gave out and he collapsed backward.

  Kadence remained in his arms, though she had unwound her legs as he'd asked, so his back took the brunt of the fall, breath knocking from his lungs. He lay there for a moment, panting.

  They were well and truly inside hell.

  There was no going back now.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "Geryon? Are you all right?"

  The muted darkness of the pit had given way to bright light, fire illuminating every direction. Kadence hovered over him, like the sun he sometimes glimpsed in his dreams, bright and glorious. "I am…fine."

  "No, you're not. You're wheezing. What can I do to help?"

  He was surprised to note she did not scramble off him, now that they were safe. Well, as safe as a person could be inside hell. "Tell me more about yourself. While I catch my breath."

  "Yes, yes, of course." As she spoke, her delicate hands wisped over his brow, his jaw, his shoulders. Searching for injuries? Offering comfort? "What should I tell you?"

  "Anything." He was growing stronger by the second, but he did not admit it. Rather, he luxuriated in the sensation of her touch. "Everything. I want to know all about you." Truth.

  "All right. I…goodness, this is hard. I guess I'll start at the beginning. My mother is the goddess of Happiness. Odd, I know, that such a woman could give birth to one such as me."

  "Why odd?" When looking at Kadence, hearing her voice, breathing in her scent, gave him more joy than he'd ever known?

  "Because of what I am," she said, clearly ashamed. "Because of the damage I can cause."

  "I have known nothing but—" pleasure, hunger, desperation "—kindness at your hands."

  Her ministrations ceased, and he could feel her gaze boring into him. "Truly?"

  "Yes, truly." Do not stop touching me. Centuries had passed since he'd last enjoyed even the slightest hint of contact. This was nirvana, paradise and a dream all wrapped into one delightful package. "My head," he found h
imself saying on a moan.

  "Poor baby," she cooed, massaging his temples.

  He nearly smiled. Now was not the time for this. They were inside hell, out in the open, possible targets. But he could not help himself, was too desperate, greedy. Just a little longer. "Your story," he prompted.

  "Where was I? Oh, yes." Her honeysuckle scent enveloped him, chasing away the odor of rot. "I was a mean little girl. I didn't share my toys, and I frequently made the other children cry, unintentionally compelling them to bend to my will. All right, perhaps a few of those times it was not so unintentional. I think that's one of the reasons I was sent to hell as warden, though it was never said aloud. The gods wanted to be rid of me."

  How forlorn she sounded. "Every living creature has made a mistake at one point or another. Besides, you were a child. Not yet sensitized to the feelings of others. Do not blame yourself."

  "What of you?" she asked, and this time she sounded more buoyant.

  He'd relegated his human memories to a far corner in his mind, never to be considered again. Before, thinking of those days had stung, for he'd known they were forever lost—but he reminded himself that with his wife's desertion, that was a good thing. Today, however, with the essence of Kadence all around him, he experienced only a thrum of sadness for what might have been.

  "I was a wild child, untamable, a roamer," he said. "My mother despaired, thinking I would worry her and every member of our family to death." He laughed, her sweetly aged face flashing in his mind. "Then they introduced me to Evangeline. She calmed me, because I wanted to be worthy of her. We married, as both our families desired."

  Kadence stiffened. "You are…wed?"

  "No. She left me."

  "I am sorry," she said, but there was relief in her tone.

  "Don't be." Had he not given his soul for Evangeline, she would have died. And had she not left Geryon, he might have fought Lucifer when the time came to become guardian. And had he fought, he might not have met Kadence.