The Darkest Craving lotu-11

by Gena Showalter

  He wanted to join her, but didn’t dare. Not until she invited him.

  She emerged a short while later, a towel wrapped around her luscious little body. Hair as black as night dripped at the ends. “Your turn.”

  He halfway expected her to be gone by the time he finished, which is why he rushed, and yet he found her standing in front of the bed, looking shockingly sweet in a black leather corset top with purple ties at the bottom and a long, puffy skirt with dark lace.

  “Where’d you get the clothes?” He cursed himself for not yet taking her shopping, as promised.

  She shifted uncomfortably. “Some guy with wings and a spike of green hair down the middle of his head stepped into view, dropped a bag, winked at me and stepped back out of view.”

  Malcolm, the Sent One, he realized with a bead of annoyance. He’d stepped from the spirit realm into the natural, clearly. “You should have called for me.” The moment his snippy tone registered, he cringed. Dial back the anger. She was in a fragile state where he was concerned, and he had to tread carefully.

  Her eyes narrowed. “There wasn’t time.”

  At least she hadn’t yelled. Very gently he said, “Next time, if someone appears, no matter who or what they are, no matter how fast they appear and disappear, or if you think they’re my best friend, call for me. Okay? Please. Just in case I need to intervene.”

  She nodded stiffly.

  “Thank you.” He dug through the bag and found a plain T-shirt and pants, dropped his towel and dressed.

  Tink turned away, and he had to brush flickers of sadness aside. Things wouldn’t always be this strained.

  “Let’s take off,” he said. “We’ve got a long journey ahead.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ve always wanted to spend time with the Lords of the Underworld, and I want to—”

  “Drop me off?” she interjected tersely.

  “No. I’m staying with you.”

  He got her outside, in the heat and light of the day, and scanned the crowds and buildings, searching for anything suspicious. This close to Times Square, there were flashing lights and stores everywhere, both offering great cover.

  He dialed Lucien, but it went to voice mail. Next, he tried Torin. The warrior answered on the third ring with a curt, “What?”

  O-kay. A very un-Torin-like greeting. As Kane led Tink around a corner and up to a coffee cart, he said, “I’m in Manhattan. I need Lucien to pick me up.” Lucien could flash from one location to another with only a thought, even between realms. “Me and my wife.”

  At the counter, he held up two fingers.

  Torin sputtered out a very undignified, “Wife?”

  “Didn’t the boys tell you? Lucien, Reyes, Strider and Sabin were at the wedding.”

  “They’ve been a little busy thinking up ways to find Viola and Cameo.”

  “Cameo?” He tensed. “What happened to her?”

  “The same thing that happened to Viola. She touched the Paring Rod and vanished.”

  An instant flood of worry threatened to drown him. “What’s being done?”

  “Anya talked to some guy she met while in prison,” Torin said. “He helped create the Rod, and he assured her the females were still alive. Just trapped.”

  He pushed out a relieved breath.

  “Give me the deets about your girl.”

  “Her name’s Tink—”

  “Josephina,” she interjected loudly.

  “—and she’s half Fae. A royal, a daughter of their king. Wait till you see her. She’s the most beautiful woman ever created. But she has as many enemies as us.”

  “Hey,” she said. “I don’t have that many, and only one is my fault. Actually, no. The Phoenix is your fault, too. But thank you for saying I’m beautiful.”

  Two steaming cups were set before him. He stepped aside to doctor both with cream and sugar, then gave one to Tink. He remembered the longing looks she’d given the coffeepot during his breakfast with the royal family.

  He watched as she sipped, closing her eyes to savor, and his chest constricted with a longing of his own.

  “—time and place,” Torin was saying.

  “Wait. Sorry. What was that?”

  “Stop lusting after the ball and chain and pick a time and place to meet,” the warrior repeated. “I’ll make sure Lucien is there.”

  “Two hours. Sabin’s old apartment.”

  “Consider it done.”

  He severed the connection. Then, seizing any excuse to touch his woman, he slipped the phone into a pocket of her skirt. “Guard this for me,” he said.

  “Will your friends like me, do you think?” she asked, and nibbled on her bottom lip. “The few I’ve actually met have only seen me at my worst.”

  He heard the uncertainty in her tone. “The wedding was your worst? Honey, your worst is most people’s best. My friends will love you.” If not, Kane would hand out some serious beatings. “They’ll guard you with their lives.”

  “Yeah, but what if they think I’m all wrong for you?”

  “Impossible. You’re perfect for me. Besides, wait till you meet their wives. Or have you already heard stories?”

  She shook her head. “New reports of your most recent exploits haven’t yet come in to the masses.”

  It was humiliating to know they’d never realized they were being spied on. “Well, Sabin and Strider are consorts to bloodthirsty Harpies. Lucien is engaged to Anarchy. All three females are annoying, always stealing weapons out of my room, but as they would say, they’re simply amazeballs—and so are you.”

  A smile—small, but there. “Thank you.”

  He soared. “Is there anything you’d like to purchase before I take you out of the city? Anything at all. I plan to get you some clothes, but we can also get shoes, purses, jewelry, whatever you’d like.” If he had to buy her affections, he would. He didn’t care how pathetic that made him. He just wanted her happy.

  “No. Really, I’m good.”

  The vibrations in his wedding ring intensified significantly, startling him. Frowning, he held the metal band to the light. In the center, as if the band were a movie screen, he watched Red shove his way through a crowd.

  Kane glanced up—and spotted Red, shoving his way through the crowd, closing in on him. The ring had known, had...warned him?

  “Is something wrong?” Tink asked.

  “Yeah. We’ve picked up a tail.” He trashed his coffee, did the same to Tink’s.

  “Hey,” she grouched. “I wasn’t done with that.”

  “Sorry. Don’t want you to burn yourself.” He launched forward, barreling past oncoming humans, dragging Tink with him. With his free hand, he withdrew a dagger.

  “Who’s the tail?”

  “One of William’s kids.” No. Scratch that. All of William’s kids were probably here. Those four were like ants: never alone.

  “What are they, anyway?”

  “Trouble.” And they weren’t coming near Tink. He would kill them first.

  Yeah. It was time to kill, he decided. He’d warned the Rainbow Rejects about what would happen if they came after Tink. The warning had been a courtesy to William. His last courtesy. The boys hadn’t listened. Now, Kane would follow through.

  “I’m going to hide you in one of the shops, okay? I need to have a chat with the boys, and I don’t want you to—”

  “Kane!” Tink vanished.

  No, not Tink. Kane. No longer was he racing down the sidewalk with his woman behind him. He was standing in a narrow hallway, white fog wafting all around him. A shout of denial split his lips as he turned left, right, searching for Tink.

  He clawed through the mist, only to discover—more mist. He checked his ring, but there was no longer a reflection. Panic set in. Where was he? What had happened? Not many beings had the power to flash another without contact. Only Greek and Titan royalty, and—

  The Moirai, he realized with sickening dread. They’d used their powers to transpor
t him from New York to their home in the lower level of the skies.

  He sped down the hall. He’d been here before, knew the way, and didn’t need to look to know the walls were comprised of thousands upon thousands of braided threads. Those threads vibrated, coming alive, playing scenes from his life—past, present, and maybe even future—but he didn’t allow himself to stop and study.

  He was careful to breathe as little as possible. The air was laced with some kind of drug, something to keep him pliant, and maybe even susceptible to suggestion. Tink thought the Moirai operated that way, that they weren’t really controllers of fate, but rather massagers of it, pushing and kneading, tricking, until their victims were putty in their hands, blindly following wherever they led.

  Not me. Not any longer.

  He reached the end of the hall and entered the weaving room. The three hags sat on wooden stools, each female hunched over the loom, with her long, white hair frizzing over her shoulders.

  Klotho had spotted hands and spun the threads.

  Lachesis had gnarled fingers and wove those threads together.

  Atropos had pupil-less eyes and snipped the ends of the locks.

  “Send me back. Now.” The last time he was here, he’d shown the utmost respect. He’d kept his tone level, his gaze averted. This time he whipped out his demands, his gaze direct. The outcome was too important.

  “You made a wrong turn.” Klotho cackled.

  “Such a bad wrong turn,” Lachesis reiterated.

  “Bad turns lead to bad ends,” Atropos said without any inflection. “You should have married the other one. Or two.”

  No. No, he wouldn’t believe it. Tink belonged to him, and he belonged to her. He wanted no one else—would have no one else.

  “There’s still time to change directions,” Klotho added.

  “Oh, yes, there’s still time,” Lachesis reiterated.

  “That’s the only way you’ll survive the pain,” Atropos said.

  Kane came forward, with every intention of shaking the females into submission. “Send. Me. Back.”

  Klotho looked up and frowned. “You’re ruining our tapestry, warrior. The scenes you’re creating aren’t as colorful as the ones we wish to create.”

  They’d predicted his future for the colors his actions would lend to their blanket? Inconceivable!

  Roaring, Kane slashed his dagger through the threads closest to him. Moved forward, slashed through more. All three hags gasped with horror.

  “You’re going to send me back to my wife, or your throats are next.”

  “You wouldn’t!” the one in the middle gasped.

  “If you’ve seen my past, and gotten a glimpse of my future, you know I’ll do much worse than that.” Determined, he stalked forward.

  * * *

  ONE SECOND JOSEPHINA was being dragged by Kane, the next she was on her own in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. Shock had her stumbling to a halt, but she quickly righted herself. Where had he gone?

  She spun, searching the area, trying not to panic. People, people, so many people, each on a mission, marching in every direction. A building here, a building there. Birds on the sidewalk, pecking at trash.

  “Kane,” she shouted.

  The lady next to her jolted back, as if she’d gone insane.

  “Kane,” she shouted again. There was no response.

  He’d...abandoned her? Decided she was too much trouble?

  “Someone must have flashed him away,” a voice said from behind her. “How perfect. We’ve been looking for you, female.”

  Trying not to cry out, she whipped around and faced the male from her nightmares. The handsome Red, capable of morphing into the monster she’d drawn into herself.

  First rule of fighting, she thought, recalling Kane’s rules. Act casual. “I don’t know why. I want nothing to do with you.”

  “We wish to spend time with you.”

  Anger burned through her. “I advise you to reconsider. I’m a biter.”

  His brothers stepped up beside him, flanking him, and all three stared at her with rapt fascination.

  “For you, I won’t mind teeth marks,” Black replied.

  Humans continued to walk around her, the females stopping to give the warriors a second and third glance, as if interested in exchanging numbers, before realizing the males weren’t the type to be played with and hurrying away.

  Refusing to back down, she said, “I know what you really want, and my answer is no. My ability only works with my consent.”

  Red offered her a slow smile. “Getting your consent won’t be a problem.”

  If he’d hoped to intimidate her, well, he’d just done a great job. She was certain there had never been a colder smile.

  Second rule of fighting. Don’t be afraid to show off your weapons. Sometimes fear will drive people away. “I’m willing to fight for my freedom,” she said, proud of her lack of quivering. She withdrew the blade Kane had given her. Where was he?

  “You’ll lose,” Red replied matter-of-factly. “But don’t worry. We’ll be careful with you.”

  Black and Green nodded.

  Dread nearly knocked her off her feet.

  They approached.

  * * *

  KANE APPEARED IN the exact spot he’d left. Only, Tink wasn’t there. He rushed to Sabin’s apartment, gaze constantly scanning, searching for any sign of her. Every second was agony. When he reached his destination, he burst through the doors.

  Lucien jumped up from the couch, frowned. “Where’s the girl?”

  “I don’t know.” About to hyperventilate, Kane plowed a hand through his hair. “I have to find her.”

  The Rainbow Rejects wouldn’t kill her, he knew that much, but oh, she might want to die when they finished with her. She could be in pain, right that very moment, and the thought tortured him.

  “Get Torin on the phone,” he croaked. “I need to know what happened, and I don’t care how many databases and security systems he has to hack into to find out.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Realm of Blood and Shadows

  IT DIDN’T TAKE Torin long to dig up the video Lucien had requested for Kane. “I’m sorry. Just one second longer,” he said, then messaged the footage to the pair. That done, he swiveled his chair around.

  First, his gaze hit the painting still resting beside his door. He hadn’t peeked.

  Second, the female sitting at the edge of his bed.

  The mystery of her name had not yet been solved, even though she’d come every day, as promised. In an effort to relax her, he hadn’t pressed her for information, but had allowed her to watch him as he researched the Paring Rod, looking for answers about Cameo and Viola, all the while getting to know his mannerisms, his habits. He’d fed her. He’d allowed her to wander around the confines of the room.

  What would crack her hard shell?

  “You’re very good to your friends,” she said.

  “They’re very good to me right back.”

  “You love them.”

  “Very much.”

  She nibbled on the end of a strawberry he’d given her, licked the juice from her fingers. “I have a friend.” A beat of silence. “I miss her.”

  Finally. Personal information. Easy. Don’t push too hard, too fast. “She’s...gone?”

  “No. I see her every day, and I speak to her, but there are always prying eyes and ears, so our conversations are limited.”

  “Who pries?” he asked, treading lightly.

  “The others.”

  That told him nothing—but it was a start. “The others listen to you and your friend....” He propped his elbows on his knees, trying to appear relaxed rather than foaming-at-the-mouth eager. “What’s her name?”

  “It’d probably be better if you didn’t know,” she said. “But...I’ll tell you mine.”

  “Please,” he rushed out.

  “I’m...Mari.”

  Excitement at learning this new detail nearly shot him
out of his chair to fist bump the ceiling. “Where do you come from, Mari?”

  “The...past,” she whispered, looking down at her bare feet.

  “I don’t understand. The past?”

  “Cronus plucked me from long ago and imprisoned me in one of his homes. I don’t know how many years passed before my friend was placed in the cell across from mine. I can’t visit her, and she can’t visit me. We can only talk to each other through the bars.”

  A prison? He withdrew the mental files he’d kept on her, and compared those with what he saw now. Her pale hair was tangled each new day, her skin streaked with dirt, despite the showers she’d taken here. But the fear had slowly faded from her eyes, and the food she’d eaten had caused her cheeks to fill out.

  “Cronus is dead,” he said. “You don’t have to return. You can stay here without fear.”

  “You still don’t understand. We’re stuck there, tethered somehow. We have no water, no food and have only managed to survive...I’m not sure how. He must have done something to us.”

  Yeah. There were ways to keep prisoners nourished without actually feeding them. Ways that kept the prisoners docile and weak.

  “We’ve tried to dig our way free, but so far, we’ve had no luck. I can flash in and out to meet with you, because Cronus made the allowance before he died, but no one else can leave, even through a flash.”

  Rage started little fires in his bloodstream. He still had no idea what “from the past” meant—actual time travel? Or was she an immortal Cronus had found in, say, the Middle Ages, and the monarch had kept her imprisoned all these centuries?

  “You should have told me sooner,” he said, still trying for a gentle tone.

  “I didn’t know you. I didn’t know what I...wanted from this.”

  “I can help you. Cronus’s homes were given to one of my friends—Sienna Blackstone. This friend also has the former Titan king’s abilities and powers.” Most of them, anyway. “If you’ll tell her everything you know about the home, she’ll find it and release you and your friend.”

  Hope glistened in eyes gone dark. “Really?”

  “Really.” And then you can stay with me.

  Hand fluttering over her heart, she hopped to her feet. “I don’t know what to say.”