The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld Book 8)

by Gena Showalter

  Relief and ecstasy poured off him, enveloped them both, and without thought he closed his teeth over that well-sucked tendon. Immediately she gasped, went rigid. Her back bowed, her hips lifted, forcing him as deep as he could go, her inner walls clenching on him, milking him.

  Amun erupted. He gave her every drop, filling her up, branding her, staking that claim.

  Mine, mine, mine. No secret. Not to him, and not to his demon, and not to Haidee.

  Finally, when he had nothing left, he collapsed atop her. She didn’t complain. She sagged to the ground, as depleted as he was. He barely managed to angle his body so that he wouldn’t crush her, but he didn’t move off her all the way, didn’t pull out of her. He was where he belonged, and he was loath to lose the connection.

  Hurting?

  Her eyes were closed, the long length of her lashes creating a fan of shadows over her cheeks. “No. Dead.” He chuckled. Then my woman is pleased? Even though she had to do most of the work herself?

  She blinked open those pearl-grays. “So I am your woman?”

  His humor drained in the face of her doubt. Now. Always.

  “Will you—?” She licked her swollen, well-kissed lips. “Will you say the words, then?”

  He smoothed his hands over her brow, not surprised to note that he was shaking. He had needed the words, so it stood to reason that she did, as well. He was ashamed he hadn’t said them before now. Had been so selfish, enjoying her declaration but not offering his own. I love you, Haidee. I love you so much I ache.

  Tension seemed to drain from her, though he’d never felt her stiffen. “Do you forgive me for what I did? All those centuries ago?”

  Sweetheart. What is there to forgive? You were as consumed by your demon as I was by mine.

  Tears sprinkled from the corners of her eyes, then rained down her cheeks, streaking down her lovely skin. “My demon. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing those words in conjunction with myself.”

  But it’s true. You took a piece of Hate, but didn’t know to purge it. That piece bonded with you, became a part of you. That piece drove you.

  She placed her palm over his heart. “Your friends will never understand that. They’ll never accept me.”

  He cupped her jaw and angled her head, forcing her to peer up at him. You’re first with me. They’ll accept that or they’ll lose me.

  “But I don’t want you to lose them. You need them.”

  I need you.

  “What if I accidently take their demons?”

  You won’t.

  “How can you be sure?”

  Just like with me, you won’t want to. Therefore you won’t.

  “You trust me that much?”

  Yes.

  Her arms banded around his neck and drew him down, allowing her to bury her face in the hollow of his neck. The tears continued to flow, icy crystals that broke his heart. Her lithe body rocked against him as she sobbed.

  What’s wrong, sweetheart? I wanted to make you happy, not sad.

  “I am happy. I’ve never been first before. I mean, for a while, with my parents, I was. After they’d decided to keep me, I guess, and before my sister was born. But then, when Hate tortured them, they begged him to take me, and that hurt me. Here, now, I know you’ll always put me first and I shouldn’t let you do that. Not for me. Not for anyone, and I’m babbling, I know, but if I let you do this, you’ll just be unhappy later on.”

  He rolled to his back, fitting her atop him like a well-placed puzzle piece. Unhappy? Why, are you planning to leave me?

  “No, you deliberately obtuse man. I’m too greedy.”

  He found himself chuckling again. As long as I’ve got you, I can never be unhappy.

  “Your friends—”

  Will accept you. Or else, he thought.

  Secrets remained quiet. Perhaps the demon knew the truth of their reactions, perhaps not. Either way, Amun planned to do everything in his power to ensure his friends did, in fact, accept his woman.

  If they couldn’t, fine. He’d go. He’d miss them, always love them, but he’d go. If they threatened her, he’d go—but he’d hurt them before he did. If they tried to make him choose between them and Haidee, they’d lose. No question.

  His heart beat for this woman. He lived for this woman. She’d endured travesty after travesty when she only deserved pleasure. He would now provide that pleasure. Nothing would stand in his way.

  She was amazing. She had survived the only way she’d known how, with grit, courage and determination, never realizing she was battling herself as well as the forces poised against her. With Hate a part of her, she probably shouldn’t have been able to love—by her own admission, loving wasn’t easy for her—but again she had proven just how amazing she was. Her love was stronger than the darkness inside her.

  He held her until she settled, caressing her and whispering to her, then kissed her temple. I want you to know that I’m not going away, sweetheart, and I’m not going to regret choosing you. I’m with you, now and always, just like I said.

  “How can you love me?” she asked between hiccups.

  How can you love me?

  “I just do. You’re a part of me.”

  Exactly.

  Her arms squeezed at him again, and he felt her chilly sigh. “The demons have been purged from you,” she said sleepily. “We don’t have to stay down here anymore.”

  She was right. He should have realized. He’d already planned to leave, but now their mission was actually completed. Funny, but he found he wasn’t quite ready to abandon their cave. He wanted his woman all to himself for just a little longer. Let’s get some rest, and when we wake up, we’ll find a way to summon Zacharel. He brought us here, so he can return us to the fortress. If he didn’t, well, they would simply find another way.

  Nothing was impossible. He knew that now.

  “All right,” she said.

  Before we go, though, we’re going to use the pack to summon the proper tools to tattoo you. He wanted Micah’s name erased and his own added. All over. On every limb, finger and toe, so that she would always know the name of the man she belonged with.

  “Good idea. Yours can be the first name on my un-inked arm.”

  More than my name. There’s going to be an entire paragraph dedicated to how much you love me.

  She chuckled, and the husky sound delighted him. Turned him on. Hell, everything about her turned him on.

  Who are the others tattooed on your arm? Skye? Viola?

  “Skye saved my life once. We were prisoners, and I was too injured to escape on my own. And Viola is possessed by the demon of Narcissism. See how the i is dotted with an x? We fought. I don’t remember the outcome.”

  Secrets could help her with that.

  We’ll need to send you notes about me, then. Pictures, too. If he could find a camera that could capture his face, that is. Somehow his demon managed to distort even drawings of him. Still. He wasn’t taking any chances. Yes, he was going to do everything in his power to defend her, would even die for her, shield her with his own body, but damn it, all their bases were going to be covered. Just in case.

  “Another good idea,” she said after a big yawn.

  Sleep now, sweetheart.

  “Yes.” She drifted into sleep almost immediately, her body relaxing against his.

  He wanted every night to end exactly this way. With Haidee on top of him, sated and trusting him to keep her safe. And he wanted to awaken each morning with her still in his arms. They’d make love, talk and share, drown in each other.

  He was smiling as he, too, drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CLAWS SCRAPED AGAINST A nearby wall. “Haidee.” The eerie howl of her name echoed, blending with the swish of a robe.

  Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

  Haidee’s eyelids popped open, dread already curling in her stomach. She knew those sounds, knew that voice. Only a nightmare, she
told herself, or another realm of hell. Trust no one and nothing. Except Amun. A lesson she’d learned well.

  “Little Haidee,” the voice sang, a whisper. “I know you’re close by. I can smell you.”

  Please be a nightmare or another realm of hell, she thought desperately.

  “You cannot hide from me, little Haidee. You have what’s mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Scraaape. “Hay…dee…finally, you’re going to give it back.”

  Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

  “Hay…dee… You hid when you were a little girl, too. Do you remember? I do. The screams, the splatter. The pleas. Your sister squealed like a pig when the blade sank into her belly. Your mother begged me to stop, to take you away. Your father, well, he was the first to die, wasn’t he?”

  She cringed, fought a wave of sickness. No, not a nightmare, not another realm. There was too much glee in that tone. Too much truth to the memory.

  Hate was here.

  Somehow, the demon had found her. Had come for her. Again.

  Denial roaring through her head—not now, please not now—she jackknifed to her feet, wild gaze already searching. She didn’t see him, but that didn’t lessen her dread. She was still in the cave, Amun lying on the pallet he’d made for them.

  He must have awoken at her movement, or maybe he’d heard the bastard’s taunts. His eyes were already open. He sat up stiffly, pulled on a pair of pants and grabbed two blades without pausing to clear his head.

  He asked no questions. Maybe he didn’t have to. Since making love that second time, they’d been utterly attuned to each other, and she’d actually felt his emotions for her, the sweet depths of his love.

  “Haidee.” Hate was closer now. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

  Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

  No. No, no, no. The memory would not consume her. Since meeting Amun, she’d barely thought of that night and thought perhaps she was finally healing. She would not be distracted. Not this time.

  She dressed as swiftly as Amun had, then weaponed up. She’d known this day would come. She just hadn’t expected it to come now. No warnings, no sensing Hate’s approach. Just hello, terror.

  Actually, no. The old crone at the circus had tried to warn her, hadn’t she? “Soon” had finally arrived.

  Amun tugged her toward the only entrance to the cave, pressed her to the side, out of striking distance, then turned and waited, ready to attack. His shoulder pressed into the center of her chest, holding her in place.

  “Haidee girl. Dead girl. You have what’s mine. You’re not going to die before I can take it. Not this time. That will come after.”

  Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

  Her molars ground together. “What are you planning? He’s not like your friends,” she whispered. “Not human in any way.”

  I know, Amun finally said, dark and menacing as their thoughts merged. Secrets knows. He is more than immortal. He is a child of a goddess. Of Themis. Her son. Always he enjoyed killing, suffering. That’s why he was sent to Tartarus.

  She couldn’t hide her sudden spike of terror. Not from Amun. Her breathing grew shallow. Hate was the child of a goddess. A god himself. How would they defeat a god?

  Secrets flashed images of Hate through Amun’s head, which in turn caused them to flash in hers. He was fast, too fast, his strength unparalleled. Haidee was the only person who’d ever walked away from him, and she’d done so only because the cold had surprised him. He wouldn’t be surprised this time.

  “We can’t fight him. We’ll lose.”

  I fought gods all the time when I lived in the heavens.

  “Yes, and that was thousands of years ago, and you had an immortal army as backup. Right now it’s just me and you. He’ll slaughter us.”

  We’ll think of something.

  Secrets disagreed, and his certainty swam through her.

  “No matter what we do, I’m going to die today,” she said flatly. The demon wasn’t even trying to hide the realization, the knowledge now as much a part of her as Hate. She wasn’t ready, though. Needed more time.

  No. No, you’re not. I won’t let you.

  Just as surely as she could discern Secrets’s knowledge, she could feel Amun’s rising panic. She had to fight her own panic all the more stringently or they would feed off each other, make each other worse. Someone had to stay calm. Someone had to get Amun out of this alive.

  It was already too late for her.

  “Listen to me.” As she spoke, she forced herself to accept her fate. She would die—in her way—and she would hurt. So what. She’d done it before. And this time, she’d do it for Amun. There was no greater reason. “In a few days, I’ll be in my cave. No,” she rushed out when his gaze swung to her. “Don’t say anything. And don’t…don’t come for me. I won’t remember you, and I’ll attack you. But I think—” hoped “—I’ll dream of you again and when the hate settles, I’ll come for you. We’ll be together again.”

  You’re not dying. Not this time. I’ll die first.

  That’s what she feared most. “Just…let him have a go at me,” she pleaded. “You heard him. He wants his demon back, and he’s not leaving without it.”

  He won’t be leaving, anyway.

  Oh, Amun. Stubborn to his core. “Something’s changed. Always before, he kept his distance when he found me, afraid to touch me. This time, I don’t think he’s afraid.”

  He is. A little.

  But not enough. “Good,” she forced herself to say. “I can work with that. You’ll stay here, and I can—” No!

  She knew she’d just insulted Amun’s warrior core, but she didn’t want to risk his life. She would come back. He would not. “Amun, just listen to me. I don’t want you to fight him, either. He’s a freaking god.”

  Demigod. And you can’t stop me.

  “Whatever. You know the outcome. We both know the outcome. Your demon is not—”

  “Haidee…mine…mine, you have what’s mine,” that despised voice from her past said. Hate didn’t sweep through the cave’s only opening. He simply walked through the wall to stand in front of her and Amun. “Together again, at long last. The thief will finally have her due. You took what’s mine. I want it back.”

  “Repeat ourselves much?” As the past collided with present, she wanted to vomit. As always, he wore a hooded black robe, his face cast in thick, impenetrable shadows. His feet floated just above the ground, a wind she couldn’t feel ghosting around him.

  Don’t approach him, Amun growled, inching away from her, severing contact. And don’t touch me. Okay? We need to engage him verbally if we’re to learn how to best him without engaging him physically.

  Okay, she said. Lied. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. And why couldn’t she touch Amun? When his shoulder had pressed into her, she’d read his mind, his demon. Now, there was…nothing.

  Amun gave a jerky nod to let her know he’d heard her reply before their connection had been severed.

  Hate hadn’t spoken during the byplay, had merely watched them. Now a low growl erupted from his throat. “You’ve been together. Demon and Hunter.” The words carried a hint of fire. “You do not deserve pleasure, Haidee my girl. Mine. After what you did to me, you deserve only pain.”

  “What happened here is none of your business,” she said, raising her chin.

  Haidee, watch your words. I said engage him, not infuriate him.

  Good, they could still talk to each other. And just what can I say to make him want to stick around and chat, rather than do what he came to do?

  I don’t know.

  Before she could respond, Hate’s growl sharpened like the deadliest of blades. “I want what’s mine, and you will give it to me.”

  Amun’s arm stretched out, a hard block that prevented her from moving forward—or Hate from launching at her directly. She almost pushed that arm aside, but remembered his c
ommand not to touch him. Damn it. She wanted to save him, not offer him up as a replacement dinner.

  “Do you have no response, little Haidee? Dead Haidee?”

  Even as Amun warned her to keep quiet, she said, “What if I decide to keep it?” She didn’t want the bastard’s attention riveted on her man. Hate could move too quickly, kill before his victim could even blink. Hell, Hate could walk through walls, as he’d already proven, and simply attack Amun from behind. “Forever.”

  Damn it, Amun cursed. Are you trying to ring the starting bell? I just need a little more time. I’m having trouble reading him.

  Clawed hands curled into fists, peeking out of the long sleeves of that dark robe. “You will give me what’s mine. Give it now.”

  “No,” she said with false calm, “I don’t think I will.”

  The wind whipped up, agitating the hem of his robe. “I’ll make you.”

  “Will you really? Then why haven’t you already?”

  Wind, wind, so much wind.

  If she wasn’t careful, the bastard would attack no matter what she did or said. “Will I die if I do give you what you want?” she asked, pretending she was thinking it over.

  Good. That’s good.

  “Give. Me.”

  He hadn’t answered her question, she noticed. “You know what? If you want that piece of the demon back so badly, you come over here and take it.”

  What? Amun shouted, the wind rocking through the entire cavern.

  Like I said, he can’t do it on his own or he would have already. He has to have my cooperation. I’m just reminding him of that.

  Dark tension pulsed from that floating body. “Now, Haidee. Is that any way to speak to your lover?” For the first time in their sporadic, centuries-long acquaintance, Hate flipped back the hood of his robe, freeing his features from those too-thick shadows.

  She gaped, horrified. He was grotesque. His skin was rotted, pitted, and most of his hair was missing. The few patches there were were thin and coarse, frizzed. Rather than eyes, he watched her through two black holes of despair.