The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld Book 8)

by Gena Showalter

  If the Horsemen thought to punish her… Amun curled his fingers around a blade the congo hadn’t managed to steal from him, ready, almost eager.

  “Very cool,” Black said, waving them over with a smile that did little to soothe Amun’s dark mood. “Sit, sit. We’ve been expecting you.”

  They had, had they?

  Amun needed a better read on them, and suspected Secrets would have an easier time sorting through the noise if Haidee wasn’t there. Yet he couldn’t be without her. Not just to guard her—not that she needed guarding, because damn, he was still in shock over her ability—but because the other demons inside him might use her absence to overtake him. He would lose focus, returning to that mindless state of horror and pain.

  Stand behind me and press your back into the tent flap, he told her as he moved forward. He gave her a gentle push in that direction. You’ve got a weapon?

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  She didn’t question him, but he knew she wanted to. Once again, he wished the connection went both ways, that she could push her voice into his head. Why the hell couldn’t she? Just then he wouldn’t have minded if she heard every thought he had, knew every urge he experienced. Her safety came before everything else.

  He eased into the only empty seat at the table, the horsemen encasing him from every angle. He studied their faces more intently, noting the flawlessness of their skin, the purity of their eyes, the utter amusement in their expressions.

  Amusement? Why?

  Amun knew the moment Haidee did as he’d ordered and increased the distance between them, because Secrets sighed in relief and homed in on the three males and the female, at last digging past the buzzing, shrieking, moaning and silence.

  —so damn bored…

  —most fun I’ve had in a while…

  —too bad we have to kill him…

  —girl might be useful, though…

  The other demons cackled, a thousand wind chimes in a storm. They weren’t so loud that they overpowered Amun’s other thoughts, and they weren’t so stalwart they overwhelmed him with dark urges. Oh, he could feel the things they wanted him to do. Taste the Horsemen’s blood, cause their screams. They’d been locked away so long, they were desperate. They also sensed Haidee was nearby, the frost of her skin like an invisible tether, and so they behaved. He could deal.

  “You want safe passage from this realm,” Red said, a statement of fact, not a question.

  “As with everything here, you must buy that passage,” White added, her voice as lilting and delicate as a snowfall.

  Black smiled at him, all teeth and menace. “I hope you’re ready for this.”

  Green, he noticed, never spoke a word. Just watched them all through enigmatic eyes. Amun felt a momentary sense of kinship.

  He nodded at each of them.

  “We’ll play two hands,” Red said. “No more, no less. If you lose, you will give me a hand. And I don’t mean a round of applause. Feel me?”

  Behind him, Haidee choked on a breath.

  I’ll be fine, sweetheart, he told her, even as he arched a brow at his opponents. Ask them what happens if they lose to me.

  She obeyed, her voice strained. He was proud of her. She was scared but unbending, used to being in control, but allowing him to lead.

  Red shrugged one of his massive shoulders, his attention never veering from Amun. “If I lose, I’ll escort you out of this realm myself.”

  Secrets released an uneasy sigh. Over the centuries, Amun had learned the subtle nuances of his demon and knew Secrets sensed something amiss but hadn’t yet figured out what.

  So now came the real negotiation. Ask them what happens to you during—and after—all of this, he told Haidee. What happens to you if I win, and what happens to you if I lose.

  Once again she obeyed, and all four of the Horsemen grinned.

  “Why does the woman speak for you?” White asked in that snowflake voice, ignoring the question. She was frowning, clearly unable to think up a logical reason on her own.

  “Tell us what we want to know,” Haidee insisted, ignoring the question.

  Good girl.

  Black lost his battle to hide his amusement and gave them another toothy grin. “We keep you no matter the outcome, of course.”

  Amun leapt to his feet and slammed his dagger into the middle of the deck, causing the table to rattle.

  “Do you need me to interpret that?” Haidee asked with false sweetness.

  Rather than angering them, Amun’s outburst and Haidee’s insult increased their enjoyment. Chuckling, Red waved him back in his seat. “Fine, fine. The girl will share your fate. If you lose a hand, she loses a hand. If you win, she wins and leaves with you. Happy now?” Hardly. Tell them if I lose the first game, they may take both my hands but neither of yours.

  Of course, Haidee did not obey.

  Mine will grow back, woman. Eventually. Tell them.

  Still she remained silent.

  He couldn’t turn back and glare at her; they would suspect he communicated with her telepathically. Not knowing what else to do, he signed the words, hoping one of the Horsemen knew the language. To his astonishment, all of them did, for they all nodded with satisfaction.

  “Very well,” Red said, “we will take both of yours and neither of hers. But then there won’t be a reason to play a second game. We’ll have what we wanted. Both of your hands.”

  Why did they want them? Just pick a different prize for the second. Like…my feet.

  Haidee growled low in her throat, a predator ready to pounce. He knew she could hear his thoughts as he signed, but there was nothing he could do to comfort her. “I don’t agree to those terms.”

  Everyone ignored her.

  “Yes.” Red nodded. “Your feet will be a nice addition to our collection. We accept. Two rounds will be played, after all.”

  “Amun—” Haidee began.

  Amun held up his hand for silence, and he could feel the malevolence pulsing off her. Later, she would make him pay. But she would have the necessary appendages to do so, so he wasn’t too concerned. To the Horsemen, he signed, What are the rules?

  They looked at each other, genuinely perplexed by his question.

  “Rules?” White asked, blinking.

  O-kay. Clearly the Rainbow Brigade lived by a code of its own making.

  Secrets confirmed the suspicion. Suddenly Amun knew that there was no black and white with them, only shades of gray, and they wouldn’t hesitate to lie, cheat or trick to get what they wanted.

  Trusting them in any way would guarantee his loss. Use the backpack to produce a new deck of cards, he told Haidee.

  A few seconds later, she was strolling to his side. Secrets whimpered, the other demons cried out in pain, and then utter silence claimed his head. She angrily slapped the deck into his hand and stomped back to her post without a word. When they were once again distanced from each other, all of the demons peeked from their hiding places.

  Secrets was a bit more subdued, afraid she would return at any moment.

  The fear would have to be addressed, he realized. Secrets was a part of him. Amun relied on the beast and needed him at his best in dangerous situations. And as each new realm offered more danger than the last, that would have to be addressed soon.

  Red leaned forward to study the new stack, and their fingers brushed.

  In that split second, Secrets soaked up as much information as possible. William had created these creatures. Whether through conventional means or not, the demon couldn’t tell. All he knew was that they had purged some of the darkness inside of William and they both hated and adored the man for it, at once wanting to destroy and worship him.

  They were too destructive to be loosed on earth, and so they had been bound to this underworld, but those bonds had begun to wither the day William had left them, and were now worn thin. Every kindness they dealt freed them a little more. But kindness was not part of their makeup and they had to actively ponder how to be n
ice.

  One day, they would be free of this place. One day, they would return to their creator. Until then, they waited impatiently, biding their time, amusing themselves as best they could. And they planned to use Amun as fodder for their amusement for a long, long time.

  They had no plans to cheat. That was their kindness to Amun—and they’d been considering how to go about this for centuries. Centuries. Here, there was no past or future. Only present, a present that somehow bled into that nonexistent past and future. They had known he would come. Just as they knew he would lose.

  “Everything is acceptable, I take it,” Red said. “Deal.”

  He had Secrets; he could win. He hoped. He nodded.

  Black’s lips twitched at the corners, as if he fought another grin. “He wasn’t asking if you agreed, demon. He was telling you to deal the cards. You know Texas Hold ’Em, I’m sure.”

  Amun gave another nod. Tense, he shuffled the deck and tossed the cards. He’d played before. Anyone who was friends with Strider had played. Defeat fed on victories, and between battles with Hunters, he often challenged the men around him.

  Amun couldn’t afford to lose, and even though his opponents were playing honorably, that didn’t mean he had to.

  Secrets. I need you. What do they have? Even as he asked, he looked at his own hand. All right. Not bad. A pair of eights to kick things off. If there was another eight in the flop, giving him a three of a kind, he just might bring home the first victory.

  As usual, Secrets didn’t speak to him outright, but suddenly Amun knew that White and Black were his only competition this round. White had an ace and a king, and Black had the potential for a flush.

  He knew, too, that the card he wanted for himself waited at the bottom of the deck. So Amun bottom dealt the turn and the river and ended up with three of a kind, just as he’d wanted. His excitement was short-lived, however. Black beat him with the aforementioned flush. That quickly, and that easily.

  Damn. His stomach tightened with dread as he leaned back in his chair. If ever a man needed his hands, it was Amun. But he wouldn’t fight the Horsemen when they removed his. He had another round to play, after all.

  A grinning Black withdrew a serrated blade from his boot. A blade already coated with blood. “Come on. Let’s see the prize.”

  “How can he play the next round without his hands?” Haidee yelled. “You can’t do this. You—”

  “I guess you’ll have to deal the next round for him,” White interjected without a hint of mercy.

  No, Amun signed. If she remained near him during the next round, his demon wouldn’t be able to read the Horsemen and their cards. He would lose his advantage—not that it had helped him so far.

  Haidee’s clothing rustled, as if she were moving away from her perch. I agreed to this, he told her. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll find a way to play. Again, he hoped. I need you to stay where you are. That’s the most important thing right now.

  Thank the gods, the rustling stopped. He placed his arms on the tabletop. Gideon had had his hands chopped off twice in his lifetime. If Gideon could survive, Amun could, too. He only regretted the fact that he wouldn’t be able to touch Haidee tonight as he’d dreamed.

  Before he had time to move, or protest, or change his mind, Black struck. Boom. Metal sliced through the bone in his left wrist before hitting the barbed table. Blood squirted, and sharp, agonizing pain exploded through Amun’s arm, swiftly traveling through the rest of his body. He thought he heard Haidee scream, then soft hands were smoothing over his back, feminine whispers drifting through his ears.

  Worth it, he thought, panting, sweating. He wouldn’t have let them take one of her precious hands for any reason.

  “Please, don’t hurt him again,” she was crying. “Please, take one of mine. Don’t do this to—”

  Black struck again, taking the other hand.

  Haidee released another agonized scream. Dizziness swam through him, as did more of that pain, but he didn’t allow himself to even grunt. He compressed his lips and held everything inside, watching as White lifted the unattached hands and studied them.

  “Nice and strong,” she said with satisfaction.

  “I think I’ll like his feet better,” Red said. “We can actually walk a mile in his shoes.”

  Every member of the Rainbow Brigade laughed.

  Tell them…tell them to start…the next round, he managed to gasp to Haidee. He didn’t dare look up at her. She was sobbing, he could feel the icy splash of her tears on his cheeks. Those tears would unman him, enrage him, and now wasn’t actually an optimal time to fight the Horsemen.

  Silent, ignoring his demand, she placed her own hands over his gushing wrists and an icy sheen spread, stopping the crimson flow and causing Secrets to scramble to the back of Amun’s mind…fade. The other demons screamed as Haidee had done, rushing to hide deeper inside him.

  “The old cards are covered in blood,” she said. “Here’s a new set.” Then she released him, picked up the new deck and shuffled. She was trembling. Amun couldn’t find the strength to send her away, no matter how desperately he needed his demon’s aid.

  The second game started a moment later, but his brain was foggy, his reactions slow. He wasn’t sure how he remained in his chair, but he did. He wasn’t sure what cards the Horsemen possessed, or even what kind of cards he possessed. His vision swam, blurring the numbers and pictures.

  “What do you want me to do?” Haidee asked him, fear wafting from the words.

  “Yes,” White said. “Tell us all.”

  Do you know how to play? he asked, ignoring the Horsewoman.

  Haidee gave the slightest nod.

  He peered at his cards, willing away the haze. His determination paid off, and he finally saw what he had. Better than what he’d expected. He concentrated on the flop, again staring until his eyesight cleared. He needed an ace of hearts and he’d have a royal flush. Anything else, and he’d have nothing.

  What did his opponents have?

  Nothing with the potential of his hand; he would just have to work that to his advantage.

  In the first hand, no one had folded. Because they hadn’t been playing for stakes, just the end results. Time to change that. Tell them we want to up the pot.

  After only a moment’s hesitation, she did, and each of the four leaned forward, utterly interested. Amun outlined his demands to Haidee, and she peered down at him for a long while, eyes wide and face pale.

  Do it! he snapped.

  “I have a proposition for you all,” she said. “If you lose, each of you will owe my friend here a year of service when you finally leave this place.” Something they would find reprehensible, Amun knew. “And if he loses, well, he’ll give you more than just his feet. He’ll give you me.”

  That isn’t what I said, damn it! He’d told her to offer him, all of him. Tell them what I really said. Now.

  She shook her head, enraging him.

  The Horsemen studied the flop, gauging what cards Amun might have. They had to know how close he was to that royal flush—or think he had one already, since he was risking everything.

  “If you fold now, however,” she went on, “you will be exempt from the new agreement.”

  Haidee, damn it. Tell them they can’t have you! If you don’t, I’ll do it. I’ll start speaking, and you know what happens then. He wouldn’t risk her, not for any reason.

  She didn’t.

  He opened his mouth.

  “The new terms are acceptable,” Red said before he could utter a single word.

  And just like that, there was no backing down. The stakes had been set. Amun wanted to vomit.

  White and Black folded, eliminating fifty percent of the competition and leaving only Red and Green. As he’d hoped. The rest of the flop was dealt, and Red practically hummed with satisfaction.

  Green threw his cards onto the floor and spit on them. He hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted.

  “What do you have?”
Haidee demanded of Red.

  He flipped one card, then the other. Full house, Amun realized, queen over nines.

  Haidee sucked in a breath. “Amun wins.” Grinning now, she tossed his cards at Red. “You lose. Both you and your friend owe him a year of service.”

  Merciful gods. He’d gotten his royal flush.

  All four Horsemen pushed to their feet, scowling over at him, their auras pulsing brightly. Red and Green even leapt at him. But everything—the males, the female, the smoke, the tent—disappeared in flash, before a single point of contact could be made.

  The cave once again surrounded him and Haidee.

  They were alone, he realized just before the haze returned. He was bombarded with relief, and that relief wiped out the adrenaline rush he’d fought so hard to maintain. He collapsed, unable to hold his own weight a second longer. He was panting harder, sweating more profusely, the pain no longer hidden by duty.

  How? he asked. He was certain he’d won that final round through dishonorable means. Not that he cared. He simply needed to know in case the Horsemen returned and challenged him.

  Haidee crouched at his side and placed the backpack on his stomach. “The angel said the pack would give us everything we needed to survive, so I asked for a deck of cards that would stay ordered in a way that would give you an undefeatable hand, even after I shuffled them. And now I’m asking for literal hands.” As she spoke, she stuffed his arms inside.

  The movement blasted the pain to another level, and he passed out before he discovered the results.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  STRIDER POSITIONED HIMSELF on the thick branch of an oak tree, surrounded by lush foliage and darkness. The clouds were thick and gray tonight, shielding the moon and stars and scenting the air with promised rain. The perfect atmosphere for fighting. Of course, he would have said the same thing if the sun had been shining brightly.

  Planning an ambush was a lot more fun than vacationing with a horny immortal of questionable morals, a depressed, drugged-out warrior looking for his lost love and a forked-tongued little Harpy who rubbed his nerves raw.

  William had decided he wanted no part in the coming battle. Said he couldn’t risk injury when he had more important things to do, or some shit like that. So he’d taken off for Gilly’s family home. Paris had just screwed a random stranger, his strength returned, his body healed, and was in the process of gathering weapons for The Stupid-Ass Chase, as Strider was now calling it. But Kaia, well, she was perched in the tree across from Strider’s, waiting for the Hunters to find them.