Amun tried not to grin. If there was one thing he enjoyed more than this time alone, it was teasing his friends. He didn't get to do it often, as quiet as he had to be, so he worked with what he was given.
Thank you. I would love to spend time with you.
"Then we shall spend as much as you'll allow us," Olivia responded happily.
Aeron's scowl deepened, and Amun fought a laugh. As Olivia tucked her wings into her back, she led the shirtless warrior toward Amun's chair and gave him a little push.
He settled with a heavy sigh, his many guns and daggers clanking together. Once, Aeron's entire body had been a canvas of tattoos. Dark tattoos of death and violence to remind himself of the things he'd done, and the things he might do again if he wasn't careful. But not too long ago, Aeron had been killed and miraculously brought back to life. His resurrected body was tattoo-free.
Or had been.
Aeron had already begun decorating himself again. This time, however, the images were almost comical. Olivia's name claimed the spot just above his heart, and her face was etched in perfect detail on his wrist. He even had black wings tattooed on his back, reminiscent of the wings he'd lost during his transformation.
"Oh, is that beer?" Olivia clapped excitedly as she settled on Aeron's lap. Her dark curls bounced around her shoulders, intermittently hiding and revealing the glittery flower petals woven throughout. "I've always wanted to try beer."
Amun shoved the cooler away from her, even as Aeron shouted, "No! No trying beer." Then, more calmly, "Sweetheart. No. Please."
Too well did they recall the last time Olivia had indulged with alcohol. Without a doubt, she was the world's saddest drunk.
A huff escaped her. "Fine. I won't taste it."
Aeron relaxed. Maybe because he had no idea she planned to guzzle it instead of taste it.
Before she could reach for a bottle, Amun clapped for her attention. You look very pretty today. And she did. Her cheeks were rosy, and her sky-blue eyes bright. Love radiated from her.
"Thank you," she replied, beaming up at him.
"What'd he say?" Aeron demanded.
"He thinks I look very pretty."
The warrior's lips pursed. "I told you that a few minutes ago and you ran from me."
"But I was going to reward you when you caught me."
The warrior's narrowing violet eyes landed on Amun. Why'd you have to be here? he thought, knowing Amun heard. Now I have to wait for my reward. "So. Do you come here often?" he said aloud.
Trying to appear somber, Amun nodded.
That violet gaze shifted, perusing their surroundings. "I can see why. It's nice here. Peaceful."
Which was one of the reasons Olivia had chosen to lead him down this path. She'd wanted her man to forget his troubles, if only for a little while, and simply enjoy.
A paradise, certainly, Amun signed.
"But aren't you worried about Hunters sneaking up on you?" Olivia asked, and seemed to sink into herself. Hate was not part of her makeup, he knew, but she didn't like the pain those men had brought her man.
Were you?
She blushed, and Aeron choked on what seemed to be a bout of laughter. That, he'd apparently understood.
Actually, with the iron fence around the property and Torin having this place monitored 24/7, I'm not worried about anything but relaxation.
Torin, keeper of Disease. The poor man couldn't touch anyone skin-to-skin without infecting them with some sort of sickness. Of course, that sickness wouldn't kill immortals, but it would infect them and they in turn would infect everyone they touched. Therefore, Torin spent most of his time alone in his room.
Well, not so alone anymore.
Amun had picked up on his thoughts, as well as Cameo's. Cameo was keeper of Misery, and the two had been engaged in a passionate affair of You-can't-touch-me-but-you-can-watch-me-while-I-pretend-you-are for weeks. Both knew it wouldn't last, but they were enjoying the hell out of each other right now. So much so that Amun often wanted to cut off his own skull and dig out his brain, just for a few moments of peace.
"We really didn't mean to intrude on your relaxation time," Aeron said. "So we'll just be on our—"
What's mine is yours.
Aeron's shoulders slumped, and Amun fought another laugh.
"Yeah, but my darling is right. You deserve to relax in peace. So why don't you take half the forest, and we'll take the other half? No, that won't work," she rushed on. "We'll just stress about the dividing line."
Silly woman.
"Oh, I know. We can work out a schedule." Olivia grinned, proud of herself. "Something like, you get Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and we get Tuesdays and Thursdays."
Or I get every day, since I've already staked a claim. And you can visit me upon occasion.
"Or you thank us for allowing you even those three days," Aeron retorted when Olivia translated. "Otherwise, we might spill your secret and then every last person living in the fortress will start coming here."
Amun flipped him off, a sign that needed no interpreting.
The booming laugh that next escaped his friend was like soothing balm to his ears. Before Olivia, and the events that led to Aeron's death, Aeron had never exhibited such merriment. He'd been very much like Amun projected himself to be. And, truthfully, most often was. Somber. Sorrowful. Almost grief-stricken.
What's it like? Living without a demon? So many centuries had passed, Amun barely remembered how it had been, living in the heavens, carefree and without interference.
"Honestly?" Aeron leaned back until his shoulders were resting against a tree trunk. He pulled Olivia with him, and helped her curl herself around him. "Amazing. There's no voice in the back of my head, beseeching me to do terrible things. There's no urge to hurt or maim or kill. But it's also...odd. I hadn't realized how much I'd come to rely on the bastard, uh, fiend—sorry, sweetheart—for information about people. I'm having to relearn how to read people's intentions."
Amun knew that, because of Wrath, the warrior had sensed a person's sins the moment he'd neared them. He'd then become filled with a need to punish them, hurting them the way they'd hurt others.
You'll adapt.
"Soon, I hope."
"The good news is that he's not as moody," Olivia added.
Lips twitching, Aeron kissed the tip of her nose. "All thanks to you, sweetheart."
"You're welcome."
Amun's heart gave a little lurch. In happiness for what his friend had found. And yes, in jealousy. He wanted a female of his own. Desperately. He'd found one he could have enjoyed, too. Kaia, a Harpy. She was a liar and a thief, but she was open about it, her sins there for everyone to see. She kept no secrets.
But she'd also slept with Paris, keeper of Promiscuity and one of Amun's closest friends. Not that Paris wanted her again or could have her even if he did. Once Paris slept with a woman, he couldn't get hard for her again. That was part of his curse. But while Amun knew the little Harpy was intrigued by him, he also knew she would not be settling down anytime soon. And Amun wanted forever.
With other women, human women, well, it was too difficult. He knew what they were thinking every minute of every day. He knew when they found another man attractive. He knew when they said something nice to him but were thinking something cruel.
Aeron sighed, drawing his attention back to the present. I'm here. I might as well ask him, the warrior thought.
Amun straightened. He'd known Aeron would approach him sooner or later with the coming question, but hadn't known how to respond. He still didn't. Don't ask me, he signed. Not yet.
A muscle ticked beneath his friend's eye. "I hate when you read my mind."
Then conceal your thoughts. He didn't think there was a way to do so, though. No one had ever managed such a feat.
"I can't," Aeron confirmed. "Which means you already know that Olivia and I are leaving tomorrow."
Actually, no. That wasn't true. Aeron planned to leave Olivia behind, she ju
st didn't know it yet. The warrior was desperate to keep her safe. Which, in his mind, meant leaving her here, even though she would be pissed.
Where are you going? he asked, though again, he already knew the answer.
"To hell," Aeron replied. It wasn't a metaphor, either. The man meant exactly what he said. "We want you to come with us."
Legion, the little demon Aeron viewed as a daughter, was currently trapped in the fiery realm, and Aeron had ever intention of rescuing her. Had the warrior asked Amun to go anywhere else, he would have said yes without hesitation. But hell...he shuddered. His demon had lived there, once upon a time. That same demon had fought to escape, had succeeded, and had been punished for that success.
But the memories of that place had never faded. The heat, the screams, the rank odors of sulfur and rotting flesh that permeated the air. Disgusting. Add in the vile thoughts of the demons still living there and the tormented thoughts of the souls suffering there, and it was a new kind of hell for Amun.
What about Baden? he asked. Another of Aeron's pressing burdens.
Aeron arched a black brow. "You know about that, too. Great."
Baden. Once their best friend. But thousands of years ago, Hunters had beheaded him. Unlike Aeron, he hadn't been given a second chance at life. He hadn't done anything to deserve one, apparently. But Aeron, who had recently spent a little time in the afterlife, had seen him. Talked to him.
Baden was out there. Baden could be freed, returned to them like Aeron. They just had to find a way to convince any deity who would listen to bring him back to life.
Aeron had kept this information to himself. But then, that was a habit they shared. Aeron liked to weigh all the facts, find any possible solutions, before mentioning a potential problem to the others. That had never been more evident than now. Aeron no longer suffered but all the others did, and he didn't want to add to their suffering until he could offer a resolution.
"Once Legion is safe," Aeron said, "I'll tell the others about Baden. We can then concentrate on freeing him. But Legion has to come first. She's suffering. He is not."
And the Hunters? The artifacts? Pandora's box? Will you forget those? Now that you're without a demon, they must not concern you anymore.
A scowl darkened Aeron's face, shadows seeming to seep from his eyes. "You're wrong. They concern me greatly. I don't want to watch my best friends die because I allowed my enemy to find the artifacts. I don't want to watch my best friends die because I wasn't there to protect them. But I love Legion, too. She's being tortured down there and I can't stand it. I have to free her, or I'll be no good to anyone."
Even after what she did to you?
"Yes," Aeron replied without hesitation.
Olivia nodded. "Yes. Me, too."
Amun expected such forgiveness from Olivia. She was an angel and, as he'd already realized, didn't know how to hate. She couldn't even hold on to a good anger. But Aeron? Forgiving a female for making a bargain with the devil, nearly ruining his life by almost killing his angel? Shocking. But maybe forgiveness came more easily to him now that he was without his demon's need for vengeance.
"The sooner we find her, the sooner we free Baden, and the sooner I can concentrate on the artifacts and the Hunters," Aeron added.
Many reasons to go, yes, but none overshadowed Amun's reasons for staying behind. Are you asking anyone else to go with you?
The back of Aeron's head banged against the tree, once, twice, and he peered up at the ocean of sky. "No. I hated even asking you. I don't want to leave the fortress unprotected or task the warriors with something else to do."
So, why me? Aeron had never thought the answer outright, and Amun had never pulled it from his friend's mind, so he honestly didn't know. The other warriors were just as strong as he was, just as skilled at warring and killing.
"Secrets," Olivia said with a sad little sigh. "Your demon will be able to learn where Legion is being held."
That made sense, and Amun nearly moaned. Because it meant they needed him specifically. Not for his brawn, but for his demon. No one else would do. How, then, could he tell them no? He couldn't.
He scrubbed a hand down his suddenly tired face. Though everything and everyone inside him began screaming in protest, making him wince, he nodded. If I agree to do this, you'll have to ask one more. To take Olivia's place and better their odds of success. "Who?"
William.
William was an immortal of some sort, though none of them knew exactly what he was. The man liked to think of himself as a sex god, that much Amun knew. He'd sleep with anyone—and had. A man of few standards, no question. But he loved fighting almost as much as he loved sex, and he wasn't possessed by a demon. Therefore, the darkness of the underworld wouldn't frighten him. And if Amun fell as he suspected he would, there would be someone there to help Aeron leave.
"I will," Aeron said. "I'll ask him."
Amun sighed, as sad as Olivia had been. Then count me in.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE BLOOD... the girl saw it in her mind, dripping, flowing, rushing. The screams...she heard them in her ears, agonized, evil. The darkness...it surrounded her, closing in tighter and tighter, nearly suffocating her.
How long this had been going on, she didn't know. Time had ceased to exist for her. There was only pain and chaos. And fire. Oh, God, the fire. She could smell the fumes, the scent of rotting bodies and brimstone.
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, scalding her cheeks. She was lying in a bed, knees drawn up to her chest. Over and over she shivered from cold, and yet, she was still burning up inside. Someone had carried her here. She couldn't remember who. She only knew that the moment he had set her down, she had attacked him, unable to help herself. So badly she'd wanted to bathe in his blood. She'd wanted to hear his scream join all the others.
If he'd survived, she didn't know. Didn't care. Would have actually welcomed another victim, and she hated herself for it.
"How are you today, pet?"
The words were barely audible through the screams, but she understood them all the same. And she didn't have to open her eyes to know who now stood beside her bed. Cronus. King of the gods...her master.
Can't hurt him. Can't allow myself to hurt him. He would punish her. Again.
Hurt him, another beguiling voice whispered through her head. It would feel so good.
Can't. Any more pain, and she would crumble. Forever lost.
Once she'd been known as Sienna Blackstone. Once, she'd been human. Once, she'd been a Hunter. Then she'd fallen for Paris, keeper of Promiscuity, and slept with him to strengthen him. Big mistake. The empowered warrior had decided to use her—as a shield. He'd abducted her just as she'd once abducted him, allowing her own people to gun her down.
At the time, she hadn't thought it was possible to feel such agony. Liking a man, only to discover he couldn't care less about you. Bullets, slicing into flesh. Life, slipping away. She laughed bitterly now. How foolish she'd been. That hadn't been agony. That had been a massage. This was agony.
Her back felt as if it had been dipped in acid and salt. Two hard things were growing between her shoulder blades, sprouting from the ruined flesh. Horns, perhaps. Or maybe wings. Every so often, she thought she felt them flutter.
"Answer me. Now."
Punish, that beguiling voice commanded. Take all that he claims as his, and then take his head.
Though her head was already filled with more evil than she could bear, new images began taking residence. She saw all the things Cronus had stolen over the centuries: artifacts, power, women. She saw all the lives he'd taken—and exactly how he'd taken them. So many. Oh, there were so many lives cut short because of his greed. Not just his enemies, but his own people. Even humans. Anyone who had gotten in his way. Blood flowed, and the screams reached a new crescendo.
Oh, God. Moaning, she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. Had she known what awaited her in the afterlife, had she known what kind of person he trul
y was, she would not have allowed him to lead her to the heavens.
She would have stayed with Paris. A man she'd thought she hated with every fiber of her being.
That hatred for him must have anchored her to his side, because her spirit had followed him for several days after her body died. He hadn't been able to see her, hadn't sensed her in any way. She'd watched as he'd given her a warrior's funeral; that had surprised her. She'd watched as he'd cried for her; that had confused her. She'd watched as he'd mourned for her; that had, unexpectedly, touched her.
Her anger with him had begun to drain. She'd thought: even though he used me, he must have truly cared about me. And if he was capable of caring, he must not be the evil creature she'd been led to believe.
But then his body had begun to weaken and Sienna had been forgotten. To regain his strength, he'd slept with some random stranger. And then another. And another. He hadn't cared about a single one of them. He hadn't cared that they'd wanted more from him than a mere bedding. He'd walked away afterward and never looked back. Just as he would have done to her if she hadn't captured him for her boss.
Her anger had returned, hotter than before.
That's when Cronus had appeared before her. "Come with me," he'd said, "and you will live again."
"I don't want to live again." The life she'd led had not been the stuff of dreams. After her younger sister was abducted from her home, her father and mother had checked out. They'd wanted nothing to do with anything, even their remaining child. Fighting the Lords of the Underworld had become Sienna's cause, her sole purpose. There would be no evil in the world, no more abductions, if Pandora's demons were destroyed, she'd been told.
Cronus, though, had not given up.
"You can avenge your death, then," he'd replied.
"I don't want to do that, either." She'd just wanted to pass quietly into the afterlife, the world and its inhabitants forgotten. Perhaps there she would have found her sister.
"You don't know what you want. But I can see your desires in your eyes, whether you admit them or not. You're desperate for a second chance. You want what you were denied. A family. Someone to protect you, to cherish you. Someone to love you."
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