"Scarlet?" The gold once again disappeared from his eyes, the obsidian like a living entity. "Rhea's daughter?"
Gideon blinked. She was Rhea's daughter? She was a fucking royal princess? Did that mean... "Are you not her father?" he croaked out. That might explain their matching black gazes.
"No!" So much disgust poured from that single word, Gideon could have drowned in it. "Never speak such a blasphemy again or I will unleash a torrent of suffering the likes of which you've never known."
Why the disgust? Why the warning? She was a beautiful, intelligent, brave female, damn it, and the bastard should be proud to call her daughter. Gideon's hands fisted, even as he told himself he wasn't angry. He was relieved that Cronus wasn't his father-in-law. Possible father-in-law, he hastily added.
Sabin's wife was Galen's daughter, and Gideon had seen the problems that little family connection had caused. No, thanks.
"Her father was mortal, and her mother is a whore," Cronus continued, the disgust far from waning. "That's who's in your vehicle? Seems I haven't been paying enough attention to you lately, Lies. I knew you had the girl in your dungeon, but had not realized you had taken her out. Without my permission. I should punish you." Again, truth. Careful.
She's not mine, his demon suddenly piped up. A warning to the king. One Cronus couldn't hear, thankfully.
Not now. Don't push. "No apologies, Great One." That he wasn't bombarded with pain for the "great one" comment shocked him. Cronus had to know he meant the words as an insult. "As I wasn't saying, she didn't tell me that we're wed. Something I remember. I didn't want to trick her into thinking I was softening toward her so that she would tell me more. And I didn't plan to return her to the dungeon once I had those answers."
"Wed? You and Scarlet?" Cronus frowned, head tilting to the side as he pondered. "Everyone knew she was interested in you the first moment she saw you, but there was no hint that the two of you were seeing each other. Much less willing to wed each other." She'd always been interested in him? Suddenly he wanted to puff out his chest and bang on it like a damned gorilla. She liked the look of him, and always had. Despite her purported adoration of blonds. Thank the gods.
Surely he could sneak past her rage and ignite that interest again. Somehow, some way. "Do you know of anyone who didn't have the power to erase thoughts of her from my mind?"
A pause, almost oppressive in its intensity. Cronus licked his lips, suddenly uneasy. Then uttered a hesitant, "No."
Gideon's demon purred. A lie. Cronus had just told a lie. He did know someone who possessed that kind of power. Who? "Why—"
"No more questions." The command was snapped, his tone aggravated now. "Just...be careful with her. She's feral. Otherwise, I would have taken over her care myself."
You will not touch her, he wanted to scream, even as his demon gave another purr. Another lie. What had the king lied about this time, though? That she was feral, or that he would have taken over her "care"? Or both?
Didn't matter if she was feral. She was Gideon's wife, for gods' sake. Maybe. But either way, he was going to bed her. If that didn't return his memory of her, nothing would. At least, that made sense to him. And what if, afterward, she was willing to help him and his friends in their ongoing war with the Hunters?
Yes, of course. If she would help, he wouldn't have to return her to the dungeon, even though he'd told Cronus he would. The king wanted to win the war, didn't he? Scarlet could destroy the enemy while they slept, eradicating the need for bombings, stabbings and gunfights.
That would be total win-win. No downside. Well, except for one, but it was minor, so it hardly bore mentioning. Thought you never lied to yourself. Gideon bit his tongue until he tasted copper. Fine. The downside was huge. Devastating. He would never be able to trust Scarlet because his demon couldn't read her. And after what he'd done to her, she would never want to help him.
Therefore, she had to return to the dungeon no matter how much she softened toward him.
"I grow tired of your wandering mind," Cronus said on a sigh.
So did Gideon. The results sucked. "Don't have one last thing." Hopefully the god realized he had something else to discuss after this. "In prison, did anyone not...hurt her?" The last was croaked from him.
Something hard shuttered over the king's eyes, not just erasing their color but shutting down his expression and blocking all hint of his emotions. "We're done here. You have things to do. I have things to do. So..."
Clearly, he wouldn't discuss Scarlet anymore. Damn him. Though everything inside Gideon screeched in protest—including Lies—he quickly switched the subject before he was sent away. "There wasn't something else I needed to know. Olivia didn't mention that you have Sienna." Sienna was Paris's woman. A woman who had died in the man's arms. A woman he still craved, apparently.
Gideon felt like he was always the last one to know these things. Paris certainly hadn't told him. But Olivia loved sharing the details of her life, as well as the details of everyone else's, and Gideon adored spending time with her. She had mentioned that Cronus had taken Sienna's spirit, kept the girl near him, and then, when Wrath was split from Aeron's body, the god had placed the demon inside the girl.
The pain she must be in right now...the utter mental agony. That demon was probably urging her to do all kinds of despicable things. Things she would do; she wouldn't be able to help herself. Things that would haunt her for the rest of eternity.
"I have her," Cronus admitted reluctantly.
Truth. Lies hissed.
Tread carefully, he reminded himself. "May I not look upon her?" And report to Paris.
"No." No hesitation. "You may not. And now, we truly are done. I have shown too much leniency already, and look what it's gotten me." Cronus waved his hand through the air, and the next thing Gideon knew, he was back at the wheel of the Escalade, Scarlet cuffed to his wrist.
The change was so jarring, he accidentally jerked the wheel. The car swerved to one side, tires squealing. Another car was approaching from the other lane, headlights bright. Another quick swerve, and the car missed his. Barely.
Scarlet gasped. "What the hell are you doing? Our conversation wouldn't be over just because I went flying through the windshield, you know."
His demon gave a contented sigh. Not mine.
Gideon evened out, but didn't mention what had just happened in the heavens. As much as she disliked Cronus—why?—he couldn't be sure of her reaction. However, every woman liked receiving gifts, and now seemed the perfect time for a distraction.
Don't mess this up. "So, uh, I would hate if you reached into my pocket."
There was a suspended beat of silence. Then a dry, "I don't think so."
"I don't have a present for you."
Interest lit her dark eyes, but she remained still. Even suspicious. "The present wouldn't happen to be a hard cock, would it? Because if it is, I would have to return it. Minus a few inches."
His lips twitched as he fought his amusement. And yes, his cock hardened. He only had to be near her for an erection to happen. Or hell, think of her. He liked her dirty sense of humor. "Yes, it is, but you won't find that, too." Now her lips twitched. That had happened before, yet he'd never seen her smile.
Truly smile. And he wanted to, desperately. She would glow. He knew she would, could see her beautiful, smiling face inside his mind, lush red lips curved at the corners, teeth straight and white. Her eyelids would dip a little, but the wicked glint in her irises still would be visible.
He sucked in a breath. Was that a memory? A memory of her smiling over at him? Happy with him? Well-loved?
"Fine," she grumbled, but she couldn't hide the trembling in her hand as she reached into his pocket, careful to avoid the very thick length of him. Another gasp left her as her fingers clasped the too-hot metal. She even jerked.
Gideon had to press his mouth into a tight line to cut off his moan of pleasure. Her touch... She was so close to Mini Me, she had only to angle her wrist to reach
it. And he wanted her to reach it as desperately as he'd wanted to see her smile. But all too soon, and without angling her wrist, she removed her hand and studied the amulet.
"What is it?" Was that disappointment in her tone?
"Not a match to mine, that's for sure."
Her gaze moved to him as he flicked his own amulet out from under his shirt.
"Oh." The disappointment, if that's what it had been, disappeared. "Wh-why do you want us to have matching necklaces?"
Now he couldn't tell if she was happy, upset or wistful. Or maybe she was simply a combination of all three. Like, the gift made her happy because it meant he'd been thinking of her. Like, the gift upset her because he was giving it to her now, when he didn't remember her. Like, the gift made her wistful because he seemed hopeful of a future together.
"Well?" she prompted gruffly.
He forced a shrug, because he couldn't answer. Not without hurting his cause. To admit—in his way—that he hadn't bought it for her would hurt her. To admit that it wasn't a symbol of what they'd once shared and could maybe share again would, what? Hurt her.
"When did you get it?"
Again, he shrugged.
Angrily, she hooked the necklace around her neck and he wanted to shout with relief. There. Done, it was done. She was protected from prying eyes, and he hadn't had to force the issue. The night suddenly seemed brighter.
"You look stupid wearing yours, by the way. In fact, you look like a girl."
Or not. The words confirmed his earlier fears, but deep down he knew that she was merely lashing out, again, because she didn't understand him. How like her.
You know her so well, do you? He didn't have an answer for himself, either.
"So where are we going?" she grumbled.
Yet another shrug. He honestly didn't know. He had three and a half days—no, nights—left to woo and win her. To learn about her and his past. So, someplace romantic would be best. But where? Clearly, he didn't know her, because he had no idea what she would find romantic. A secluded cabin? A fancy hotel? He sighed. "Don't tell me about someplace you've always wanted to go but haven't—"
"Oh, you want to talk now?" she said, cutting him off. "I don't think so." Eyes narrowed, she turned on the radio and cranked up the music, a hard, pounding rock, before settling back in her seat and facing the window.
Message received. He could suck it. And not the good way.
CHAPTER FIVE
HOURS PASSED in silence. Well, not silence. The radio continued to blast Scarlet's favorite heart-pounding rock. Gods, she missed her iPod. With the buds in her ears, she could have closed her eyes and pretended she was at home. Not that she had a permanent home, but anyplace was better than such close quarters with the man she'd both loved and hated for centuries. A man she still craved with such intense longing she couldn't deny it anymore.
Almost didn't want to deny it. But she would. No way would she give him another chance to shatter her so completely. To pleasure her and forget her. Shamefully, she had almost caved, though.
He'd given her a gift. The most beautiful butterfly necklace she'd ever seen, and one that matched his own. When she'd first reached into his pocket, she'd been disappointed that he hadn't really wanted her to fist his cock. Then she'd seen the necklace, and well, she'd wanted to leap into his lap and kiss every inch of his beautiful face. She'd wanted to lick each of his piercings and thrust her tongue against his. Wanted to feel his arms wrap around her and hold her tight. As if she meant something to him again. Wanted to hear him gasp his version of her name.
But he'd seemed almost...uncomfortable about the whole thing. Guilty, even. Why? Only reason she could think of was that he hadn't wanted her to read too much into the gesture. Hadn't wanted her to leap into his lap and kiss every inch of his beautiful face.
That seemed likely. Especially since the bastard hadn't tried to turn down the music and talk to her again. Maybe he was even relieved that she'd closed their channels of communication. Which was dumb. He'd sprung her from prison to talk to her, hadn't he? He should try harder. Not that she'd cooperate. The moment she did, he'd try to take her back to the dungeon and she'd have to ditch him as planned.
Actually, she'd do that tomorrow. His friends would probably be pissed that he'd lost her, but that wasn't her problem. He'd also have to make it back to a city littered with Hunters without her aid, but again, that wasn't her problem.
She had enough problems to deal with.
One of which was fast approaching.
Gideon was still driving when the sun began to rise. She stiffened in her seat, dreading what came next but helpless to stop it. First, lethargy beat through her, draining her strength, making her limbs feel heavy and her head loll. Then her eyelids closed of their own accord, her lashes seemingly glued together. Then darkness wove through her mind, an incessant spiderweb—spiders, Gideon hated spiders, funny that she thought of them now—followed quickly by dissonant screams that overshadowed all else.
Her demon took over from there.
Laughing gleefully, Nightmares propelled her into a dark, misty realm where human and inhuman minds were like doorways. When a door was open, that meant the person was asleep and the demon could enter at will. Location didn't matter. Distance didn't matter. Time zone didn't matter. Adults, children, male, female, that didn't matter, either. Nothing mattered to the demon but feeding on terror.
With only a glance, she and the demon would know who each doorway belonged to, what kind of person they were and what they feared most. Like with Gideon and his silly fear of spiders, she thought, smiling again. He was a big, bad warrior who had killed thousands of people without a jump in his heart rate. But he almost peed his pants when an insect scampered toward him.
She supposed she couldn't blame him. She hated the creepy little bugs. They'd constantly invaded her cell in Tartarus, crawling from every shadow and wall crack. And every time she'd awoken from her impenetrable sleep, she would find herself covered with bite marks.
Not to mention the bruises her cellmates had left behind. Until she'd started invading their dreams.
Whatever she'd done to them in this dark realm, real life had parroted, and they'd awoken in puddles of their own blood, often missing limbs. Some had never awakened at all.
Who do we want? the demon asked her. The most frequently asked question between them.
Over the years, they'd learned to work together. They even liked each other, relied on each other. At times, the demon had been her only friend.
"A Hunter would be nice," she replied. Maybe they could scare the guy to death. That always put Nightmares in a stellar mood. Besides, she owed the Hunters. Not because she cared that they wanted to hurt Gideon, but because they'd ruined a perfectly good meal for her.
This will be fun. More gleeful laughter as the demon whisked them forward, the doorways blurring at her side.
When they stopped, they stood in front of an open doorway that was far larger than any she'd seen before. Moans of pleasure echoed from inside, a decadent mix of male and female. There was a slap of flesh against flesh. Murmurs of "more" and "please."
An erotic dream, then.
"Who is this?"
Galen. Leader of Hunters. Keeper of Hope.
Galen. She scowled. The warrior had led his army against the Lords because they were demon-possessed, and yet Galen himself carried a demon. The contradiction was baffling, but it didn't surprise her.
Galen had always struck her as more snake than man. A few times, he'd helped Gideon bring a prisoner into Tartarus, and he'd been all smiles while Gideon faced him, but the moment Gideon had turned away, Galen's glower had bored into his back.
When Gideon had told her that he'd found a way to curry the gods' favor thanks to his pal Galen, and that for his reward, he would request her freedom, she had begged him not to do it, whatever he planned. Of course, he hadn't listened. He'd been too assured, too hopeful, of his success.
She'd wanted to "thank" Ga
len for his part in Gideon's failure for a long, long time, but hadn't allowed herself to do so. That would have helped Gideon, and she hadn't wanted to do that, either.
Now, however, with that necklace burning against her chest, she no longer minded the prospect quite so much.
Ready?
Slowly she grinned. "Let's do this."
They stepped through the entrance, a phantom unseen by the dreamer, and suddenly Scarlet was viewing the evidence of what she'd heard. Galen was tall and muscled, with blond hair and blue eyes. Eyes that were peering down at a beautiful, pale-haired female. A female he had anchored against a bathroom sink, his majestic white wings outstretched, enclosing her in a feathered haven.
The woman's shirt was pushed to her chin, bearing her large—really large—breasts. He feasted on them eagerly. Her pants were around her ankles as Galen pounded inside her, hips shifting to produce maximum pleasure.
His pants were merely opened at the waist, so Scarlet saw very little of him. Too bad. She could have taunted Gideon with the size of his enemy's cock and the hardness of his ass.
So many fears, Nightmares said with awe.
"Tell me." She spoke aloud, knowing dream Galen couldn't hear her unless she wanted him to.
Being alone. Being defeated. Helpless. Ineffective. Overlooked. Forgotten. Dead.
Weird. He carried the demon of Hope. Shouldn't he be more optimistic? No matter. Scarlet walked through the dream bathroom, Galen as oblivious to her presence as he was to her voice, and allowed Nightmares to re-paint the scene.
"Make him sorry he was ever created."
My pleasure.
Suddenly, the writhing, moaning girl became a man. A human.
Galen stopped pounding. Even yelped and jumped away, wings shuddering with the movement.
Scarlet laughed. Oh, this was going to be fun. "More."
The bathroom was replaced by a long, dark tunnel, and the human disappeared. Galen spun, wild gaze searching his new surroundings, the tips of those wings grazing the walls and scratching.
The Darkest Lie lotu-7 Page 7
