Didn't bother him when Amun read his mind. Cronus, though, bothered him greatly. What he was feeling for Scarlet and Steel was private. His. He didn't want to share. Not because he was embarrassed about the softer emotions running rampant through him, but because he wanted every part of them all for himself. Real or not.
Not important right now. Your woman is all that matters. He wrapped his arm around Scarlet's waist, intent on soothing her the only way he could, but she jerked away from him, still shaking her head, her trembling becoming violent.
"My son was real. My son is real."
"In your mind, no doubt he is." Cronus pivoted on his heel and eased forward, forcing Gideon and Scarlet to follow. His fingers brushed the tips of the vines as he said, "Here's how Mnemosyne works. She places her hand on you, for contact increases the power of her suggestions. She then tells you something. If it's something you want to hear, your mind accepts it more readily. If not, she'll tell you something else, then something else, until she's woven a tapestry inside your mind."
Scarlet tripped over a vine, and Gideon grabbed her by the T-shirt, hefting her up and keeping her on her feet. She didn't seem to notice, kept striding forward, remaining close to Cronus and glued to his every word.
Gods, she was lovely in the sunlight. Even lost to sorrow and confusion, she seemed to soak up the rays and glow from within.
"Do you understand now?" Cronus asked.
"No. Her methods don't explain anything," Scarlet lashed out. "I know every detail of Steel's life. Every detail. My aunt could not have created so complex a tapestry."
"She can and obviously did. Once Mnemosyne makes a suggestion, the seed of a memory is planted. The more you consider that seed, the more it's watered, and the more it will grow. As it grows, your mind begins to fill in the blanks, so to speak, making the memory plausible. Making it as real to you as if it truly happened."
Gideon kept his gaze glued on the endless sea of green and pink in front of him. He didn't dare glance over at Scarlet again. She was the strongest female—or rather, person—he'd ever met, but he doubted even she could withstand this type of devastating news without breaking down. A breakdown she wouldn't want anyone to witness.
"I—I—" Her voice quivered. Was drenched with an agony so overwhelming he had never encountered its like. To her, this must be like watching Steel die, helpless to save him, all over again.
Just then, Gideon would have willingly died to give the boy life.
"I can't talk about Steel right now," she said in a tragic tone that rivaled that of Cameo, keeper of the demon of Misery. "Just tell me if Gideon and I were...were..."
Slowly, so slowly, Cronus shook his head. "You were not."
Truth.
Lies roared, furious, disbelieving. And Gideon wasn't sure whether it was because the demon hated truth, or because the demon wanted those words to be a lie.
Gideon hissed in disappointment. He desired Scarlet more than he'd ever desired another, and he liked having her with him. Most of all, he loved knowing she belonged to him and no other man.
Perhaps...perhaps he'd wed her now. For real this time. It was worth considering, at the very least. Because damn, he hated the thought of being without her.
No, Lies said. No. Yes, yes.
"Why would Mnemosyne not do something like that?" Gideon asked. He was surprised by how rough his voice was, as if his throat had been scrubbed raw with sandpaper.
Cronus sighed. "I can guess. Scarlet's mother. Shortly after Rhea and I were cursed with an aging spell, Scarlet grew unexpectedly happy. Not because we were aging, she hardly seemed to notice that, but because she clearly had a secret. Looking back, I realize Mnemosyne must have begun weaving those memories of you at Rhea's behest, to punish her daughter for the spell. You see, any time Rhea tried to kill her, the queen aged a bit more."
And if the queen had looked anything like Cronus when they'd come out of Tartarus, she had tried many, many times to off his sweet Scarlet. Again, Gideon wasn't opposed to killing females, and he added Rhea's name to his Must Die Painfully list.
"The sisters had noticed how Scarlet watched you," the king continued. "Everyone had. There was absolute longing in her gaze. That's why, I'm sure, it was so easy for Mnemosyne to plant the suggestion of a marriage when in fact, the two of you had never even spoken."
"Oh, gods," Scarlet gasped, tenting her hands over her mouth. Her horrified gaze landed on Gideon. "I—I—"
She had desired him, even then, and the knowledge filled him with pride. But she didn't like that he knew, that much was clear, and he found that he wanted to ease her, even in this.
Gideon stopped, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Don't recall that even before I met you, I didn't see you in my mind. Don't recall that I didn't even tattoo myself with your eyes, with the same tattoo you bear. We may have married, and we may have met, but I did not notice you, too." Understand me, sweet. I craved you, even then.
As he spoke, however, several questions claimed his attention. How had he known about the tattoo? How had he seen it before he'd actually met the woman? Had they been connected somehow?
She'd begun to relax, to nod, but then she stiffened and jerked from his hold. Cold infused her eyes. "After our...fake marriage, after my possession, after I gained control, I entered your dreams until your doorway disappeared. Another reason I thought you were dead. I never used my demon against you, I simply watched over you. That must be how you saw me."
Well, another question answered. And once again, he was filled with pride. So much desire... But not her. There was no pride, no joy. Her horror had only grown.
"You didn't want me in prison," she said, tears forming, spilling over. "You didn't notice me then."
Those tears nearly dropped him to his knees. "Devil." He reached out, meaning to force her to accept his embrace. He would comfort her, damn it. He may not have noticed her back then, but he noticed her now.
She darted out of reach, and several tears splashed onto his hand. "I hated you," she spat. "For so long, I hated you for abandoning me. I even blamed you for Steel's death, and I wanted to punish you. I dreamed of punishing you. Then I entered your life, and I did hurt you. In your dreams, I presented you with your greatest fear. And I was glad. I liked doing it. Liked hurting you. Then, today, I punished you again. Yet you had done nothing wrong. You had never done anything wrong." She choked on the last word, a sob bubbling from her parted, trembling lips.
"Devil, you did everything wrong. Blame yourself. I wouldn't have done the same thing." Please understand. It had never been more important for a person to understand what he was truly saying.
Shaking her head, she swiped at the still-falling tears with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry. You'll never know how sorry I am for everything I did to you. I—I—I have to go. Send me home. Please." Her gaze swung to Cronus. Or rather, to where Cronus had once stood.
The god king was nowhere to be seen.
"Cronus. Cronus!" Scarlet shouted.
In the next instant, the fields disappeared and walls of gray stone rose at Gideon's sides. Gideon whipped around, taking in his new surroundings. His bedroom, he realized. His bedroom in Buda.
Moonlight seeped from the window, illuminating his furnishings. A platform bed with a brown-and-white comforter. Two nightstands, both marred by the knives he constantly tossed at them. One balanced a red lamp that had a chink on its left side. One held a bowl of candy bars.
There was his dresser, his scuffed leather chair. His closet stuffed with more weapons than clothing. The doorway to his bathroom.
Home. He was home. But it didn't feel like home without Scarlet. Where was she? Had Cronus left her there, in that field? Alone with her grief? He roared as Lies had done earlier, enraged, helpless, desperate. He would—
Calm.
Scarlet appeared in the center of his room, and Gideon breathed a sigh of relief. Except...
Her tears were gone. Her horror and hurt, vanished. Her face was
a blank canvas, completely devoid of emotion.
"Scar," he began, rushing toward her.
Her gaze met his, and she held up one hand to ward him off. "I wish you a safe and happy life, Gideon. Nothing more needs to be said." She tried to pass him, but he latched onto her arm, stopping her.
"Where aren't you going?"
"Away."
No way in hell. He knew her, knew she planned to hunt and torture her mother and aunt for what they'd done to her. "We'll kiss them together." Kill them together. "No?"
"No." Something in her eyes hardened. Like liquid cooling and solidifying into steel. Steel was the perfect name for any child of hers. She was stubborn to her very core. "I'll take care of my mother and aunt."
His grip tightened, and he jerked her into the inflexible line of his body. She slammed into him with a huff, but refused to look up at him. Her gaze remained on the wild pulse at the base of his neck.
He was panting, he realized. In fear that he wouldn't be able to reach her. In arousal. She smelled of the ambrosia fields and radiated warmth. "You must have heard me correctly. We'll kiss them together."
Finally, her gaze lifted. Pinpricks of red flashed every few seconds, as if her demon was ready to break free. "After I kill my aunt, I'm going to find a way to remove my memories. All of them. I want a fresh start, a clean slate. Because right now I have no idea what's real and what's fake. I don't know, and it's killing me. Do you understand? It's killing me."
His own anger draining, he kissed her forehead. "I'm not sorry. So not sorry, devil. You can't let me help you kiss her, okay?" The other thing, well, he'd die before he allowed Scarlet's memories of him to be taken.
A tremor rocked her; she gulped. "How can you want to help me after everything I've done to you?"
"I don't...like you. I don't miss him, too."
He didn't have to elaborate. She knew who "him" was. Once again, tears pooled in her eyes. He'd never thought to be glad to see a woman cry, but her sadness was much easier to take than her emotional barrenness.
"He wasn't real," she whispered, hands clutching Gideon's shirt and twisting.
"You're right. He wasn't."
"I know— Wait. What?" She blinked in surprise. He could only speak in lies, so what he'd said should have felled him. But he was still standing, still strong.
"Steel wasn't real. To the two of us, in our hearts, he wasn't real."
The tears spilled down her cheeks.
"We won't make them pay for this, devil. I just need you to...not trust me." Trust me, please.
"They manipulated me," she said, the melted metal he'd seen in her face bleeding into her voice. "Laughed at me all these years. Why? What did I ever do to them?"
"They aren't monsters." They were. Far greater than any demon he had encountered. "It had everything to do with you." Nothing to do with his darling Scarlet. With his free hand, he threaded his fingers through her hair, once again offering what comfort he could. He didn't dare release her at any point or she'd bolt. "They didn't get one thing right, though. As far as I'm concerned, we aren't really married."
Her brow furrowed, but the rest of her sagged. "You're saying you consider us married?"
Rather than try and explain in Gideon Speak, he nodded.
"Hell, no," she said vehemently. She pounded a fist into his chest. "No."
Not the reaction he'd expected. Or wanted. The words had flowed of their own accord. Natural, meant to be. He'd considered it before, but now he knew. He would have her, in every way. Whatever it took.
"The two of us?" she continued. "We're done. We're over. Not that we ever got started."
Hardly. "You're right."
Her eyes narrowed, wet lashes nearly fusing together. "Now you listen to me. We're lucky we escaped an eternal pairing. We're terrible for each other. All wrong." She laughed and the sound reminded him of a harbinger's bell. A sound some immortals heard just before they died. "No wonder you didn't notice me the night I first sought you out."
He arched a brow. What night?
"You were at a club," she answered, though he hadn't spoken the question aloud. "And you nailed a human female in a shadowed corner, where anyone could have seen you. Where I saw you."
Once, public sex had been a usual occurrence in his life. So, he shouldn't have been able to isolate a single night in his memory and know, know Scarlet had been there. But suddenly he could.
An evening like any other, ambrosia-laced alcohol and sex his focus. Yet there'd been a thick cloud of darkness next to his table, one his eyes hadn't been able to pierce. He'd thought his excess had addled his mind. Especially when the scent of orchids had wafted to his nose. When Lies had tried to jump out of his skull. When his cock had throbbed unbearably.
"I didn't sense you," he said. "Didn't take someone else, thinking she was responsible for the lust I was feeling when in truth, she was—" not "—and you weren't." Were.
"I—I— Still." Color bloomed in her cheeks, twin pink circles of embarrassment. "We're still wrong for each other."
"Right again." And suddenly, all he could think about was her earlier words about how he couldn't possibly want her because he'd never tried to penetrate her.
That's what he got for being considerate. For giving her time.
Well, bye-bye consideration. He was taking what he wanted. All of what he wanted. He was going to have this woman, and she was going to accept him. She was going to admit that they belonged together. That they were perfect for each other. Everything else could be figured out later.
Was there anything to figure out, though? She amused him, delighted him, set his blood on fire. She never backed down, didn't fear any part of him. Even his demon. She met him challenge for challenge. Was probably stronger than he was.
More than that, they both needed comforting right now, and there was only one way to achieve it. In bed.
Without a word, Gideon anchored both of his hands on Scarlet's waist and tossed her atop the bed in question. She bounced on the mattress, but when she finally stilled, she didn't scramble off; she just peered over at him, confused.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a husky voice.
"Finishing this," he said, advancing on her. Finally, he was beginning it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WIN, WIN, WIN. Have to win.
"I know." Sweat poured down Strider's face and chest as he rounded a corner, slowed his sprint to a frantic walk and pressed into the shadows cast by a looming column. Thankfully, he'd realized he had tails—four of them, to be exact—before reaching the Temple of the Unspoken Ones. So he'd changed directions and now found himself in the historic district of Rome, miles from the island, a gawking crowd around him, eyeing the towering white remains of the Temple of Vesta and taking pictures so they'd always remember the moment. Blending in was kind of a problem. He was taller than everyone around him and thicker with muscle.
But he would have liked to gawk, as well. He had helped build that temple, after all. After he'd helped destroy the one that had been erected before it. Not that he'd ever be given credit. Not that he wanted credit.
Good deeds could ruin a man's rep. 'Cause really, a sensitive warrior would not elicit fear inside the hearts of Hunters.
Fear was sometimes the only thing that kept those Hunters at bay.
Strider had been warring with them for thousands of years. In the old days, they'd followed him from one city to another, blood and screams and death in their wake. Buildings had been razed, history tainted. He and his friends had retaliated so savagely, so brutally, he'd thought his enemy exterminated.
Several years of peace had followed. Years his demon had basked in, high from victory. But of course, the hiding survivors one day forgot their fear and rose again. Attacked again. The war resumed as if it had never ceased.
Win, win, win, the demon of Defeat chanted inside his head. Must win. "I fucking know." But the Cloak of Invisibility was currently in his possession. He couldn't chance being injured and imm
obilized in a fight. Which meant he had to run.
Gods, he hated running.
If he could just find a moment alone, he could drape himself with the stupid Cloak and disappear, then forget this had ever happened. That he'd ever been spotted, shot at, and now, cornered.
Only thing that stopped him from withdrawing the thing that very second was the possibility that the Hunters following him didn't know he had it. No reason to show it to them and add fuel to their determination.
He tried to be gentle with humans as he pushed his way through them. Some muttered about his rudeness, others turned to yell at him only to zip their mouths when they got a glimpse of him. Dark as his expression was, he probably looked capable of murder.
Fitting. He was.
Had the Hunters found Lucien and Anya, wherever the couple had gone? Had they found Reyes and Danika? Soon as he was safe, he was going to call them, warn them that the enemy could be near.
The soles of his boots thumped against the paved streets of the Forum. Birds squawked and flew away. Sunlight speared the ground and bounced up, and he had to blink rapidly to wet his stinging corneas. If he could make it another few blocks, he would reach the Aedes Divi Iuli. He could lose himself in the ruins, something the Hunters chasing him couldn't do.
At least, he didn't think so. He knew this land because he had once lived on it. They hadn't.
Pop. Whiz.
Silencers. "Shit!" The curse flew from his mouth as a sharp sting lanced the back of his shoulder. Accompanying the sting was a warm rush of liquid. Finally, they'd nailed him. As many times as he'd been peppered with bullets in the past, he knew the feeling. Shit. Shit!
Win. Win!
"I will." Perhaps he should have gone to the States. Bigger crowds, larger land mass. Easier to lose oneself. But he'd wanted to chat with the Unspoken Ones. See if he could convince them to change the terms of their bargain. Like, rather than bring them Cronus's head, freeing them and most likely endangering the entire world, maybe they would be happy ruling over their own realm or something. If he could get them to agree, he could go to Cronus and present the option.
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