by Unknown
Rule one in pursuit: Never look back.
Instead, she put her head down and kept going as fast as she could. She would have turned into her jackal form, but was afraid she might need her opposable thumbs for another invisible door.
She skidded around a corner, into a new hallway. Here the light wasn’t quite as bright, but it was enough to let her see where the walls and doors were.
Unfortunately, it didn’t let her see the floor. Or the thing that tripped her.
For a moment, she flew through the air until she landed face down on the ground. Putrid water splashed against her skin as pain throbbed in her knee, stomach, and cheek.
She pushed herself up and wiped away at the foul water and blood. Even though it hurt, she forced herself to start running again.
Pull out.
She could flee this realm for the time being, and then return again to search later. At least that was the thought until she heard something familiar from behind the door to her left.
“Fuck you and your little dog, too.”
Solin.
She’d know that acerbic tone and deep Greek accent anywhere. Smiling in spite of her pain, she opened the door, ready for battle.
What she wasn’t ready for was the giant … whatever it was that was trying to eat him. A mass of dark green skin with red markings, the demon turned toward her.
And this one did salivate as its yellow eyes pinned her with a salacious stare that gave her dancing heebie-jeebies. Not on your best day, buster!
“Lydia?” Solin asked incredulously. He was beaten so badly that but for his voice, she’d have never been able to identify him. “Child, what are you doing? Get the hell out of here while you can.”
“Not without you.” Since she couldn’t speak with a voice, she sent her thoughts to him.
“I taught you better than that. Survival Rule Number One.”
Save your own ass above all others. She knew it well. But someone following that rule wouldn’t tell a rescuer to flee before freeing them.
Classic Solin.
Raising her dagger, she rushed at the demon. He moved a lot faster than something his size should be able to. With an impressive twist, he dodged her attack completely and caught her from behind.
She tried to break out of his hold. It was like being drowned in sticky Jell-o. Smelly three-month-old Jell-o.
He laughed at her useless attempts. If that wasn’t bad enough, he licked her cheek. “What a tasty little morsel you are.”
She cringed. For the sake of the gods, haven’t any of you heard of breath mints? Pardon the pun, but Altoids could make a mint down here.
She jerked her head back, slamming it into his nose, and at least this time he satisfied her with a deep groan.
“You’ll be sorry for that.” He lifted her off her feet and threw her down on the floor.
Ignoring the pain that said she’d probably broken something, Lydia flipped herself back to her feet.
“Don’t do this, Dee. Don’t.”
She ignored Solin as she and the demon circled each other slowly.
Right when she went in for another attack, the demon vaporized, just like the other one had done. All he left was his stench. That she’d have gladly done without.
She turned to look for him, but before she could do more than draw breath, he appeared behind her and kicked her into the wall.
More agony tore through her body, dulling her sight.
The demon seized her. “It’s over for you, kitten.” He tightened his grip, squeezing the last of the breath from her lungs.
Her ears started buzzing.
Just as she was sure he’d kill her, she heard a loud shout resonate off the walls. “Release her, demon. Now!”
Definitely not Solin. That deep, gravelly male voice was unique and filled with an unfathomable rage that came from someplace dark inside him. His accent was unlike anything she’d heard before. Lyrically sweet and beautiful, yet at the same time harsh and commanding.
The demon let go and shrank back in terror. That reaction only made her panic more. If something as scary as he was afraid of the newcomer, what chance did she have?
But she wasn’t a coward. If she was going to die, it would be fighting to the last breath.
And she’d take as much of him with her as she could.
Coughing, she turned around, putting her back to the wall to confront this new creature. She wiped the sweat from her eyes and focused them on the door where the stranger stood.
Her jaw went slack as her gaze focused on the massive form that was bathed in that eerie blue light.
Holy mother of all electronics …
I’m so dead.
CHAPTER 2
Lydia couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe as she stared at the …
Demon?
There was no other way to describe him. It was the only thing he could possibly be …
Other than a god. And neither Azura nor Noir would ever allow a god in their domain, unless it was their sister, Braith. Gods as a rule didn’t share territory easily. Not even with their family.
No one in their right mind would share territory with a creature this feral.
Dark, deadly, and scary as hell, he was enveloped by an aura of supreme power—one that made the air between them crackle with its preternatural strength and intensity. His was a presence that would make Darth Vader run screaming for his mama. It even raised the hair along her arms and nape. Never had she seen the like and she’d seen some seriously terrifying things in her thousand-plus years of living. He didn’t just enter the room.
He dominated it.
No. He owned it.
Her breathing ragged, she took a moment to study her enemy, hoping to find a weakness of some sort.
Yeah, right … It was like trying to find a way to harness a hurricane. And while he was calm right now, she had the distinct impression that he could explode into violence with no more provocation than her arching her brow in a way he didn’t like.
His straight dark auburn hair was severely pulled back from his face, exposing a widow’s peak on his forehead, and held in a small ponytail at the crown of his head. That hair wasn’t one single shade of red, but rather the individual strands were everything from blond to mahogany, to chestnut, to black. Somehow they came together to give the impression of hair the color of dried blood.
Well over six feet in height, he was the most intimidating wet-your-pants-’cause-he’s-going-to-suck-out-my-soul-and-eat-it thing she’d ever seen. And when you took into account the fact that she could surf everyone’s nightmares, that said it all.
His entire face was painted white with sharp, angular red and black lines drawn over it in a way that reminded her of a fierce Kabuki warrior. Then again, given that he was a demon, that might not be paint. It could very well be his skin. The red lines were drawn in such a way as to give the impression of a permanent, sinister sneer and frown. His eyes were ringed by black that went down the side of his nose to form a sharp point right at the tip. Likewise, the black went up from the corner of his eye to his hairline. The dark color only emphasized how pale, cold, and merciless those steel blue eyes were.
Soulless. There was nothing in them except the promise of a brutal death and a pain so profound that those eyes alone would traumatize anyone with an ounce of self-preservation.
Given his massive size, he would have been intimidating on his worst day. Couple that with the burgundy-and-gold spiked armor caked in blood, and the real snarl on his face, and he would send the devil himself to the nearest corner to cower.
Help me …
Lydia wanted to take a step back from him, but the wall was right there, stopping her. She had no retreat. The only way out was through him.
Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen. Not even a Mack truck would be able to move him. It would be like trying to run down Godzilla. She let her breath out slowly, waiting for him to attack.
“Don’t you dare hurt her!” Solin growled from wher
e he was chained down on the table. “I swear to the gods, I’ll gut you from asshole to appetite if you so much as breathe on her.”
That succeeded in making one of the demon’s finely arched brows shoot up into a mocking expression. “We’ve already ascertained that there’s nothing you can do, except stain my armor with your blood.” He turned that brutal steel gaze back to her. “Who and what are you?”
Dead would be the most obvious answer. Just let it be quick. She didn’t want to linger in misery. Not for anything.
And everything about the demon said he would enjoy watching her suffer.
He started forward as if to attack her. “Answer me, damn you!”
Who would have thought he could get any scarier?
She’d rather face Freddy Krueger thirty minutes after she’d swallowed three sleeping pills than confront this overwhelming mountain of demon power.
Lydia gripped her dagger hard in her hand and pressed herself against the wall, trying to teleport out.
She couldn’t.
I’m trapped. Something blocked her powers and held her here like an insect trapped inside a science jar.
The demon was almost on her. “Speak, woman,” he growled low. “Now!”
“She can’t.”
Solin’s words brought him to an abrupt stop. He narrowed his gaze on Solin’s bleeding body. “Explain.”
“She’s mute.”
The demon twisted his lips into a mocking smirk. “You lie.”
“I have no need to lie. She’s never been able to say a single word, so you can’t torture her for anything useful. Not unless you can read minds or sign language.”
Seth paused to consider the veracity of Solin’s words. Was he lying?
Why would he?
Why not? It was what people did. Many times for no reason whatsoever, and any time they thought they were under assault and wanted to protect their own worthless asses. If he knew nothing else about humanity and the gods, he knew that one simple fact.
No one could be trusted. Ever.
Still, he was curious about her presence. Why would anyone in their right mind come to this forsaken hell realm?
There was only one reasonable explanation he could think of …
“What is she to you, dream god?”
Solin refused to look at her. Instead, he glared at Seth with a strength of spirit that would garner respect if Seth was capable of giving such to another. “Nothing. Just a Dream-Hunter sent in to rescue me.”
This time he knew Solin lied. And he was through bleeding and suffering because of the bastard’s steadfast refusal to give him what he needed to free them both. Rage ripped through him as he turned and went to finally kill the imbecile once and for all.
Little did Solin know, this would be a mercy killing.
As he raised his sword to remove Solin’s head, the frightened little mouse launched herself at him with everything she had. The weight of her small body slammed into his with more force than he would have thought her capable of. Grabbing his wrist, she actually tried to disarm him. When that failed, she stabbed him in the arm so deep, she buried the dagger’s blade in all the way to the hilt.
Seth would have mocked her for the assault had he not been so stunned. No one had had the balls to openly attack him when he was unfettered since before his confinement.
What the hell?
She punched his throat—something that would have worked on anyone else. But too many centuries of being tortured had numbed him to physical pain.
Curling his lip, he raised his arm to backhand her.
“Don’t you dare!” Solin strained so hard against his chains that every muscle in his body bulged.
Seth frowned at the dream god’s violent reaction. Solin hadn’t fought like that in weeks. If sheer strength of will could sever chains, Solin would have easily broken free.
He’d been right with his assessment. The woman meant something to Solin …
No, he realized as he saw the murderous rage in Solin’s eyes while the god cursed Seth’s being and parentage. She meant everything to him.
This is priceless.
Seth grabbed her hands, spun her around in his arms, and pinned her against his body so that she faced Solin. Furious, she fought him like a lioness protecting her pride.
Interesting …
Solin broke off into a string of more profanity as he tried even harder to reach them.
Very interesting.
He was willing to die to protect her.
I finally found the key. She was the tool to break Solin once and for all. The gods had finally taken mercy on him and thrown him a bone. A slow smile curved his lips.
Until she slammed her head into his jaw with enough impact that it flashed him back to his centuries of torture. It took everything he had not to break her in half. In that one moment, all he could taste was her blood. It was all he wanted.
Kill her and Solin is useless. He’ll never talk then.
That knowledge was the only thing that saved her life. But she wouldn’t be breathing much longer if she kept this up. In fact, his control slipped even more as she sank her teeth into his hand and bit him until he bled.
Flashing them out of the interrogation hole, he took her to his room. There, he flung her away from him.
She twirled about twice before she caught herself. Her black hair settled down around her shoulders into a silken mantle as she fell into a crouch like some deadly predator about to go for his throat.
He glared at her. “Don’t.”
Lydia froze at that one word that promised her an excruciating death if she disobeyed. Still, she remained in position, ready to attack if he took even one single step toward her.
His cold gaze held hers prisoner as he reached to his arm and jerked her dagger free of the wound she’d given him. She’d been able to drive it between the armor plates and knew from the blood on her own hands that she’d succeeded in wounding the beast.
But other than the bloody dagger he dropped to the floor, he showed no sign of it. He didn’t even grimace from the pain. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it.
I am so screwed.
Who was he?
What was he?
He wiped the blood on his hand across his armored breastplate as if it were nothing. It left an ominous, bright red smear that didn’t quite blend in with the burgundy. “You can’t kill me, Greek. All you can do is piss me off. I suggest, if you want to keep breathing, you don’t do that.”
Forget screwed. This went so far beyond that it wasn’t even measurable. This was screwed on steroids.
What am I going to do?
Die, no doubt. But not without one hell of a fight.
Seth saw the sanity return to her eyes. Feline topaz eyes that literally glowed with her intrepid spirit. He’d never seen anything like them. And they were what had told him Solin was a liar. The Greek Dream-Hunters, those who protected sleepers from nightmares and other predators of the unconscious, all had vivid blue eyes.
Never had he seen eyes akin to hers.
“Can you speak?” He wanted to know if Solin had lied about that as well.
She shook her head slowly.
At least she could understand him. That was something. Not much, but something.
She started moving her hands in a graceful dance. It was beautiful to watch. And it took him a minute to realize it was her language.
“I don’t understand you.”
This time she flicked her nails at him. That gesture of obscenity, he got. “Back at you.”
Now she moved her hands rapidly and with obvious anger. No doubt she was cursing him as much as Solin had.
Damn, she was beautiful. Not in a classic, perfect way, like a goddess or demon. Her eyes were too large for her oval face. So much so, they almost overwhelmed it. And her nails were ragged as if she chewed on them from a nervous habit.
But her lips …
Plump, full, and bright pink, they were perfection. The merest thoug
ht of them, stirred his body into total rebellion. It made him ache to possess the very thing he should be killing.
No wonder Solin was so protective of her. If she was his woman, he’d kill anyone who came near her, too. How could you not? It was a primal instinct to protect the things that mattered to you.
Not in your case.
True. He was an animal who cared for nothing except himself. It was all he knew. He didn’t live life. He endured it. Noir had driven that point home and nothing would ever dislodge it again. His entire existence was basic survival. There was no higher functioning in his mind. None. He did what he was told.
He had no other choice.
And right now, he had a god to break.
“You will stay here,” he told the woman. Then he returned to question Solin for what would hopefully be the last time.
* * *
Lydia stopped moving as she found herself alone. Where was the demon?
More to the point, where was she?
Like the rest of the realm she’d been in, the room was dark, with the only light coming from that eerie blue tubing on the ceiling that strangely reminded her of blood. A damp chill clung to the air, making the place even more depressing.
The strangest part though, was the absence of a door. Not a single trace of one. Nor a window either. She walked around the room, double checking. Sure enough. The only way in or out was teleportation. Something she still couldn’t do.
Damn it!
Trapped, she saw a large canopied bed in the far corner. Fur blankets were draped over it, but it didn’t appear to be slept in. In fact, it had a layer of dust over it. The walls were the same damp stone that made up the hallways she’d been down.
There was a fireplace, but no fire to chase away the deep chill in the room that cut all the way to her bones. Next to that was a large, extremely neat, Baroque wood desk. A laptop, of all weird things, rested on top of it. That was the only personal item in the room.
Curious, she walked over to it, intending to turn it on. But the instant she touched it, the top slammed down, barely missing her fingers.
What the devil?
She tried to open it, but it refused. It was as if the thing was alive and knew she wasn’t supposed to use it. Yeah …
