An illusion, nothing more. "You could use a distraction, and I could use a new goal." A kernel of truth meant to garner pity. Others might disdain a blow to their pride, but not Puck. Not any longer. "The woman I wanted didn't want me back, so we parted ways." Truth. No one wants me, boohoohoo. Poor me. "Now..." He shrugged. Comfort me?
The woman in question--Winter. He'd hungered for her as much as he was able; he'd never met a woman like her. Strong enough to topple an army all on her own. But, when she'd rebuffed him, he hadn't cared enough to try to change her mind.
Sorry, beasty boy, but I'm in love with someone else. Me! You understand, right? No hard feelings. Other than the hard feelings in your pants.
He'd walked away without a single twinge of regret.
"Women are goals to you?" Gillian asked, sounding a little offended but a lot curious by the prospect.
Continued curiosity was a very good sign. "Why not? My goals, as well as my rules, keep me from sitting on a couch, watching soap operas all day, every day, while eating old pizza."
Bond. Escort. Return.
Hesitant, she said, "But, if you're unable to feel, how do you want a woman?"
"I rarely feel emotion, but I often feel desire." In particular, I desire a certain little dark-haired beauty. "The two aren't mutually exclusive, lass."
If Gillian wanted him, he would bed her. The things she made him crave...
Once again he wondered if she would have the power to make him come, and how Indifference would react.
There was only one way to find out...
If he had to lie and tell William he wouldn't ever touch her, he would. Anything to achieve his goals. Or maybe he would be better served refusing to keep his hands to himself. Jealous men did foolish things, like agree to help a total stranger murder another total stranger.
Of course, everything hinged on Puck's ability to save Gillian from certain death.
"You make a good point, I suppose." She offered him a small smile, and yet, never had a female looked sadder. "I feel all kinds of emotion, but never ever desire."
So she didn't yearn to bed her precious William? A lie, surely. "You've never desired a man?" Tell me the truth. Tell me now. For some reason, Puck had to know.
Indifference dug his claws in deeper while issuing another warning roar.
Gillian shifted away from him, her little body even more tense than before, her dark eyes haunted. Haloed by the setting sun, she radiated more pain than any one person could possibly endure. Or survive. Especially a fragile human on the verge of death.
Whatever ice he'd managed to maintain--toast.
"I don't want to talk about it." Reminding him of a wounded animal cornered by a hungry predator, she lashed out, saying, "Change the subject or leave."
8
Puck didn't change the subject, and he didn't leave. I'll take door number three, lass.
"Ah. I understand," he said. "Someone hurt you." He uttered the words matter-of-factly, but deep, deep inside, he seethed. Who had dared to brutalize his wife?
Thinking of her as wife now, rather than future wife?
The butterfly tattoo sizzled on its return to his shoulder.
Because of the punishments meted by his demon, Puck was intimately acquainted with the helplessness that accompanied the inability to stop an attack. While incapacitated and unable to fight back, he, too, had been brutalized in the worst of ways. Only, when his strength had returned, repaying violence with worse violence had been easy. He doubted this fragile flower had ever gathered the power to do the same.
"I'll kill the man responsible, whoever he is." Gladly. Bloodily. "Just tell me his name."
"Names. Plural," she snapped, then pressed her lips together.
"One man or one hundred, it makes no difference to me." He would kill them all. Blood would flow in great, sweeping rivers.
"Thanks for the offer," she mumbled, deflating, "but I think they're already dead."
She thought, or knew?
Considering her relationship with the dark one... "William must have meted punishment." And kept the details from her?
From everything Puck had observed about the secretive male--yes, absolutely.
One of her delicate shoulders hiked in a shrug, her only response to his question. "Are you on friendly terms with William?"
"I know of him, and I'm sure he knows of me--" who didn't? "--but we've never officially met." Truth.
"If you want to be his friend, sneaking around his property isn't--"
"Oh, I don't want to be his friend." Another truth emerged unbidden. "He can hate me." Hatred was a guarantee. "I don't care one way or the other."
"That's unwise. If you aren't his friend, you're his enemy. His enemies die painfully."
"Do you care?" If she could accept William's dark side, she could accept Puck's. A point in his favor. "My enemies die gratefully, glad to finally escape me."
Now she rolled her eyes. "You immortals and your blood feuds."
"Don't you mean us immortals?" Best she accepted her fate as soon as possible. An eternity awaited her, ready or not.
Longing pulsed from her. "No, I don't. I'm going to die, remember? Before the transformation is complete. Which means a bucket list is stupid."
Because she would be forced to pick things she could do from her sickbed? How...sad.
"You will die, yes." He found a pebble, tossed it into the water, giving her words a moment to sink in. The time to play the hero had come. "Or I could bond with you." Too eager? "I suppose," he added. Not good enough. He needed to spell out his role. "I could save you by joining our souls."
She gaped at him...with interest? "Um, the only way to save me is bonding to me? So, are you actually proposing to me?"
"Yes." Verging on too eager again? "No," he said then. Too disinterested? A frustrated sound brewed in his chest, and he pursed his lips. "I don't want to bond with you, but I don't not want to bond with you." If he could have kicked his own ass, he would have. Blowing this big-time. "It's just something to do. Something mutually beneficial." Better.
Her hands flattened against her stomach, as if to ward off a terrible ache. "Aren't you worried I'll make you mortal?"
Not anymore. Not even a little. "I'm the dominant between us. My life-force will overpower yours, I'm sure of it." Then you will be mine, and mine alone...for a time.
She opened her mouth, snapped it closed. Opened it, snapped it closed.
Inside Puck, anticipation and nervousness vied for supremacy, inciting Indifference to slash and riot.
Come on, lass. Hurry! Tell me what I need to hear.
Finally Gillian sighed and said, "Thank you for the kind offer/non-offer, but I think I'm going to pass."
A new surge of frustration joined the deluge, causing the demon's tantrum to intensify another degree. Careful.
No! Not careful. Not here, not now. Puck needed to know where he'd gone wrong.
Trying for a reasonable tone, he said, "Is it because of my horns?" The fur? Hooves? If only he could shapeshift, as he'd done before his possession.
Seeming lost again, she crossed her arms over her middle. Rousing sympathies...
"I can hack them off," he said, proceeding. "They'll stay gone, for a time."
No response.
"I haven't always looked this way."
"No," she replied, and he had to backtrack to figure out what she denied.
His horns, he realized.
"Appearance has nothing to do with it." When she peered at him again, her breathing was labored, her skin dotted by perspiration. "You would want to have...you know."
You know? "Sex?"
A glorious flush appearing in her cheeks, momentarily giving the illusion of health, she nodded.
Often and thoroughly, lass.
If he could come without punishment. Hell, if he could come at all. Though the girl had made him feel more in the past twenty-four hours than anyone else had managed in...he couldn't remember how long...she might not be able to overcom
e his constant need to cater to Indifference.
"Correct," he said, his voice harsher than he'd intended, all force and no seduction. Considering the tragedy of her past, she would require gentling. A skill Puck wasn't sure he employed. Before his possession, he'd taken his women for a hard ride. "I would, yes."
"Well, I wouldn't. Ever."
"You think that now, but I would change your mind." Or die trying.
No, absolutely not. War before women.
If he had to take sex off the table, he would. And he would tell her so...would reassure her...any second now...
He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, and remained silent. No way would he limit himself to such a degree. Because, when it came to sex, he would not lie. In this, he would always be truthful with her.
As he carefully considered his next statement, he found and threw another pebble. "I would never force you," he said. "I would wait for you to want it...to want me."
"I'm telling you, no matter how skilled you think you are, you'd have to wait forever."
"I'd have you in bed within the month, guaranteed."
She softened, regret radiating from her, as if she feared she'd hurt his feelings. At the same time, goose bumps graced her flesh, as if she liked the idea.
So expressive...so beautiful.
More ice cracked, heat blooming in the center of his chest. He shot hard and aching, his body desperate for release.
Oh, yes. With her, he would be able to come.
Arousal smoldered deep inside him. Silently, he told her, Trust me, female. Let me set you free from your fears.
ROAR.
Puck jolted, the heat cooling.
In the distance, a twig snapped. Ears twitching, he stiffened and searched the oasis...soon catching William's murder-and-mayhem scent on the breeze.
"William has returned." Dismal timing. "He'll be here in five...four...three..."
"You should go." Gillian made a shooing motion with her hands. "Please."
Did she worry for Puck's welfare? How sweet, and adorable. And utterly unexpected.
"One," he said, finishing the countdown. He darted to a palm tree a hundred yards away, the thick trunk hiding him while also allowing him to maintain a vigil over Gillian.
William exited the house, his legs taking him straight to the girl. When he noticed the unconscious guards, malice blazed in his eyes, momentarily turning crystalline irises neon red. "Are you all right, poppet? The guards--"
"I'm fine," she said, scanning the area. Finding no sign of Puck, she breathed a sigh...of relief? Happiness that he'd gotten away safely? Or happiness that Puck wouldn't fight--and hurt--her precious William?
He curled his hands into hard fists.
"What happened to my soldiers?" William demanded as he crouched beside her.
Would she tell him the truth? Would she attempt to protect Puck? Did he want her to try--to care?
"Someone happened to them," she said, then hesitated. "A man. Puck."
A flicker of disappointment. Would she mention his proposal? If William managed to bond-block him, all hope would be lost.
"He came here and moved so quickly I couldn't track him," she added. "The guards were no match for his speed and strength."
She praises me. A tingle of pride sent another fissure racing through the ice.
Indifference clawed at Puck's mind, sending tendrils of weakness to his bones. He cursed, because he knew. This was it, the final warning.
Next, the demon would purr, and Puck would be screwed, unable to move or protect himself. Unable to help Gillian as the disease drained her.
He doused the pride with a splash of cold hard truth: if he failed to achieve his goals, Sin would remain on the Connacht throne. Citizens would suffer. Amaranthia would suffer.
Anger flickered to life, and he issued another curse. No help for it. He had to summon more ice. There. Better.
"Puck. Keeper of Indifference." William stood, a dagger clutched in both of his hands. It seemed Puck's reputation had preceded him. "He's sworn vengeance on Torin for trapping him in another realm."
Wrong. Cameron and Winter had sworn vengeance on Torin. Puck hadn't cared enough.
"But how did Puck escape?" William asked, as if thinking aloud.
Easily. Cameron, being Cameron, had been obsessed with finding an exit.
Gillian frowned. "How do you know what he's sworn if you've never met him?"
"My spies are everywhere, poppet." Neon red returned to William's eyes. "Did Puck say anything to you? Did the bastard do anything to you? Hades mentioned him, said he might be nearby and I should leave him alone, but that just makes me want to hurt him worse."
She huffed and puffed like the big bad wolf she absolutely wasn't, and the corners of Puck's mouth twitched. "He told me what morte ad vitam is." As William lamented loose tongues and unwanted visitors, she added, "You won't hurt him for it. And you won't kill him. Or pay someone else to kill him. I should have heard the truth from you, but I didn't, so he kindly offered to help."
She was trying to protect Puck.
Ice, cracking all over again. Body, going molten.
"Offered. To. Help. How?" William demanded.
"Promise me first," she insisted, and if she hadn't looked like death, she might have pulled off fierce-ish. "Please."
Silent now, the warrior reached out to rip the shirt Puck had given her. She gasped, startled. Then she whimpered. William showed no mercy, pulling the material from her shoulders. Once the garment was free, he tossed it into the water.
Interesting, and revealing--in more ways than one. Though William knew nothing about the proposal, he was already eaten up with jealousy.
The exact reaction Puck wanted, needed. So why was he eyeing the other man's chest, imagining sinking a blade through his heart?
Gillian's second whimper had Puck marching forward, eager to make fantasy a reality, with no thought or concern about Indifference, ice completely melted. William would suffer.
Another tendril of weakness settled in his bones, and he tripped. Puck caught himself on a tree, ducked behind the trunk.
Muttering an apology, William scooped Gillian into his arms, infinitely tender now, and carried her inside the house. Though Puck knew he should leave and seek shelter, he drew closer...closer still. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls welcomed nature inside--as well as his gaze. There was nowhere in the house he couldn't watch.
"--just so you know," Gillian was saying as William carted her upstairs, "I'm not going to bond with you."
Puck's heart nearly stopped. Had the other male issued a proposal of his own, then?
William placed her atop the bed, perched at her side and offered a stiff smile. "I don't remember asking, poppet."
A heavy sigh of relief escaped Puck. No, no proposal had been issued.
"I know you haven't asked, just as I know you won't ask," she said. "This way, when I'm gone, you won't waste time feeling guilty, wondering if you should have asked."
"You're not going to die." Despite William's soft tone, unmistakable malice laced every word. "I won't let you."
Wrong. I won't let her.
Trembling, she reached out to clasp William's hand. "I love you, Liam. When I had nothing and no one, you gave me friendship and joy, and I will be forever grateful to you."
Puck sucked in a breath. She was saying goodbye, preparing for death, wasn't she?
Fight, Gillian. Fight to live.
Aggression pulsed from William. "Stop talking as if this is the end for you."
She offered him the same sad smile she'd offered Puck. "You have faults. A lot of faults. But you're a wonderful man."
"This wonderful man will find a way to save you," William said, his tone hard as granite. "I'm working every day, every hour, every minute to ensure bonding won't be necessary. Now get some rest." Head high, he stood and stomped from the room. The door slammed behind him.
Rather than watching that door for William's return, Gillian peered at
the balcony, her expression unreadable. Was she waiting for Puck? His chest puffed, and there was no stopping it.
When her eyes closed, Puck snuck into the room and stalked to her beside, as if drawn by a waft of magic. He breathed in her poppiberry scent.
"Sleep, lass. I'll make sure you're safe." Another lie. Because, even as he spoke, Indifference began to purr.
9
Like a plug had been pulled inside a bathtub, might and vigor drained from Puck, until his knees could barely hold his weight.
Time to go.
He wasn't able to leave the room as quietly as he'd entered, but Gillian never roused. He would go somewhere safe, endure Indifference's punishment, then rebuild his strength and return. If the girl died in the meantime...
She had better not die.
Puck stumbled through the trees, the injustice of his predicament seething inside him. Experience told him he would soon be too weak to move. At times he would be completely unaware of his surroundings. At others, he would know what happened around him, but remain unable to act.
For days, anyone could stumble upon him, attack him--do anything they desired to him. Abduction. Imprisonment. Rape. Even chop him into little pieces.
But he wasn't concerned for himself. Considering Gillian's swiftly deteriorating condition, time was her greatest enemy--and his.
Must ensure my survival. He couldn't help her if he died.
First order of business: securing a hideout.
Never approach an enemy until you've scouted your location and secured a safe haven.
Sin's voice rose from the mire of Puck's memory, as welcome as it was despised. He'd been so wrapped up in Gillian, and the strange things she made him feel, he hadn't given his surroundings a second thought. He probably wouldn't have cared, anyway. And not just because of Indifference. Sin used to do all the scouting and securing, leaving Puck to do the fighting. Now, at his weakest, he had to find shelter and craft an indestructible defense.
Unless Hades intervened, William would come searching for him.
At times like this, Puck missed Cameron and Winter. In their own special way, they'd loved him when no one else would, or could. Anytime Indifference had overtaken him, they'd guarded him. For centuries, they'd ensured his battle skills remained well honed, forcing him to practice. And when he'd lost sight of his goals, they'd reminded him.
The relationship hadn't been one-sided, either. Whenever Obsession had overtaken Cameron, the warrior had spent days--weeks--locked inside a room, talking only to the demon, refusing to eat or sleep. He'd needed a champion willing to fight, and fight hard, to distract him with a brand-new obsession. Winter had never been the best candidate. For her, a single selfless act came with devastating consequences.
The Darkest Warrior Page 7
