The Darkest Warrior

by Gena Showalter

  Sin's magic had purposely separated them, then. Proximity mattered...which reminded Puck of a game Amaranthian children often played, where two teams lined up in front of each other, a single goal in mind--to stay together while forcing the other team apart.

  That was it. Hopefully. "Come to us," he commanded the others. "Line up side by side. Now."

  William and the siblings skittered over without protest, and the tremors ceased. No new pits.

  Puck expelled a heavy sigh of relief. "All right. We move forward together, remaining side by side, and--"

  Another gust of wind, another flash. One second Puck was in line, the next he was a good distance away. The shaking intensified, new sections of land crumbling.

  "Move to the right side of the fire," William shouted.

  Everyone obeyed, doing whatever had to be done. In a game of survival, there wasn't time for a pissing contest. As they pressed shoulder to shoulder, the shaking decreased, annnd yes, the land ceased crumbling.

  "Grab hands," Gillian said.

  Too late. Just like before, wind blew. They were scattered once again, the line broken. Shaking. The creation of more pits. Soon, there would be no land left.

  "What do we do?" Cameron shouted.

  The foundation at William's feet just...dissolved. In a blink, the warrior vanished. With a scream of denial, Gillian scrambled after him.

  Magic! Puck forced a thorny vine to spring from the ground and wrap around her ankle, catching her before she careened to her death. He rushed over, careful not to fall, and tugged her up, hating the pain the thorns must be inflicting upon her.

  "Let me go!" She fought his hold, determined to reach the other male.

  "Stop. Now." Indifference upped the volume as realization dawned. My wife kissed me one day, and nearly sacrificed herself--and me!--for another man the next.

  William materialized at Puck's side, comprehended Gillian's attempt to save him and helped get her back on her feet.

  Cameron and Winter jumped from their tiny plots of land. Another line. Without pause, everyone leaned, contorted and rotated to join hands. Still Puck braced, expecting another flash. But one second passed. Two, three. Nothing happened.

  Ignoring a prick of resentment, he focused on William. "Flash Gillian to the chimeras on my count." Puck didn't have enough magic to whisk her or anyone else to safety. Only enough for his vines, his ice, perhaps a handful of other tricks.

  Fury darkened the male's electric blues, all self-directed. "I can only flash solo."

  Right. In the chaos, Puck had forgotten.

  "Flash yourself to safety, idiot," Gillian screeched. "We'll find a way out of this without you."

  "Or the entire area will collapse as soon as I'm gone," William responded.

  He wasn't wrong. Sin would punish anyone who tried to save himself--by killing everyone else. Guilt could be a weapon sharper than any sword.

  "Uh, guys. I've got a wee bit of a problem," Winter said.

  Puck groaned, knowing what she was going to say. "How long do you have?"

  Hatred darkened her silver-rimmed eyes. "Not long. Selfishness is screaming. If I don't abandon ship, madness will creep in. Can already feel it...have no idea what I'll do."

  "You're not the only one with a difficult demon." Cameron rubbed his chin against his shoulder, wiping away a fresh bead of blood. "Obsession has questions about those bottomless pits, and wants answers."

  "Just hold on, guys." Gillian's gaze darted over the forest. "We can do this. We will do this. We just have to stay together and move toward the chimeras."

  Puck used the barest hint of magic to study the land, searching, searching. There! A glittery outline marked the perimeter of the "game." Roughly five hundred square feet away.

  "We don't have to go as far as the chimeras," he said.

  If they could cross the threshold together, they could--hopefully--escape unscathed. So how could they cross the threshold together?

  Think! He tried, he did, but his mind had become far too jumbled with emotion. Fear for Gillian's safety. Regret that he hadn't claimed her while he'd had the chance. Anger that he would die, his time with his wife cut short, his realm and people doomed. Sorrow that he'd brought good people into a hopeless situation. Well, good people and William. Fury and jealousy over Gillian's devotion to the male. On top of all that, the demon was simply too loud.

  "I'm sorry, Gillian, but I must...need to think clearly..." he began.

  "No!" she said. "We'll figure this out. Don't--"

  "Too late." Puck summoned ice. Now wasn't the time for hesitation.

  A frigid storm brutally and savagely slaughtered each and every emotion. Indifference quieted, Puck's thoughts settling and aligning once more. There was no way the group could walk forward while holding hands. Too many pits bled into others, widening the gaps. If two people fell at any given time, they would drag down a third, then the fourth and fifth.

  So. Moving on.

  If they couldn't go across, beside, or under, they'd have to go over. The only way over? Magic. Of course. Magic was the problem, magic was the solution. He scanned the trees surrounding the clearing, found one with a thick trunk and limbs. Sturdy. Strong enough to hold one of his vines, plus the weight of the entire group? They'd find out.

  Bugs crawled all over the bark, and those bugs would try to chew through the vine. Time would not be on their side.

  Any other way?

  Logic said: no.

  The vine it is.

  "I need a free hand, which means we must rearrange our positions." At present, Gillian and William hemmed him in. Amid protests, he added, "Once my hand is free, I'll use the tree to produce another thorn vine, and we will swing over the pits. In theory."

  Cameron and Winter radiated dread. William donned a mask as cold as the ice. Puck met Gillian's gaze, noted she was ashen, knew he should be bothered but felt nothing.

  "On my count," he said. "One. Two. Three."

  Hands untangled. New pits formed. Puck switched places with William, dragging Gillian with him when she refused to let go of his hand. Cameron tottered over a ledge.

  Winter grabbed his hand, saving him. A selfless act. Her head tilted back, a scream of pain bursting from her. The siblings tottered together.

  William proved his strength, knocking Cameron back with a kick and holding Winter up with one hand, Gillian with the other. At the same time, Puck extended an arm. A vine shot from the tree and wrapped around his wrist, thorns puncturing his skin and muscle. Blood trickled.

  As Winter's deadweight threatened to drag them all down, he leaped, taking everyone with him. Swinging. The added weight caused the thorns to dig deeper, hitting bone, but still he held on.

  As soon as the vine leveled out, he shouted, "Release!"

  Together they soared through the air, slammed into the line of trees and tumbled to the ground.

  32

  Gillian was on the cusp of a major freak-out. Hours had passed since the group had survived a game of hide-and-seek with chunks of land. Cameron was now catatonic, barely even breathing. He hadn't investigated the bottomless pits, and was being punished. Winter was in the throes of a punishment, as well, rocking back and forth, mumbling nonsensical things.

  "Clock rewinds to hell," she said. "Crimson rain, beautiful destruction. The bell demands a toll. The darkest light. He comes. Help me die."

  Gillian sat between the siblings, combing her fingers through Winter's hair one minute, caressing Cameron's face the next. Nothing she'd done had helped.

  Nothing Puck had done had helped, either. She'd asked him to share his ice with the pair, but he'd said, "I do, and I'll make everything worse. Right now, they care about the havoc they'll cause if they stop fighting. If they stop caring..."

  Claiming he needed to erect a wall of thorny vines along the (new) camp's perimeter, he'd taken off soon after. William had stalked after him, radiating menace.

  Would EP--Emotional Puck--be the one to return? Or would she ha
ve to deal with Ice Man?

  Finally--answers! Puck strode through the trees, approaching. He had a black eye, his clothes dirt-stained, bloodstained and torn.

  What she didn't see? Warmth. He looked more terrifying than any foe she'd ever faced.

  Her hopes plummeted.

  He and William must have fought, despite Puck's cold state. But then, Puck had rules. He'd never listed them all to Gillian, but she figured one had to be: Always strike back.

  "We can't stay here, and we can't take the siblings with us," he said, his voice cold and hard. "They'll only slow us down."

  She would think of something to help her friends. She must! But first, she had to help her husband. He'd once told her an outside source had to make him feel something strongly enough to break the ice. Very well.

  She stood, closed the distance. Peering up at him, she demanded, "Kiss me."

  Ignoring her, he said, "Get your bag. We head out."

  "No," she said with a shake of her head. "We aren't leaving yet."

  "We are," he insisted. "If you resist, I'll hurt you."

  "Do it, then. Hurt me."

  He...didn't. Didn't even make an attempt. Because he couldn't!

  She placed her hands on his shoulders. "If you were my Puck, you'd want to kiss me, and you'd want to stay here."

  "I'm not your Puck."

  "I know! That's the problem."

  He stepped back, so strong and competent, so wonderfully masculine as she crumbled inside. "Get your bag," he repeated.

  "No." In the years Gillian had spent with the Lords of the Underworld, she'd watched one alpha male after another fall in love and change, wanting to be better for his Lady.

  Puck doesn't want my love, remember? No, no. He did. He must. His terms...

  Did she love him?

  She wasn't sure. So, moving on. The Lords' mates always had a potent effect. Battle-hardened warriors became putty in the right hands.

  Powerful Sienna, current queen of the Greek gods, fascinated Paris simply by strutting into a room, despite the fact that he'd lived for multiple millennia and had already experienced every vice, trick and treat.

  The delicate Ashlyn calmed Maddox with only a glance, touch, or spoken word.

  The feisty Kaia aroused Strider with the wicked things she said.

  What would others say about Gillian and Puck one day? The hot mess Gillian melted Puck with...what?

  "For once, I agree with Pucker," William said, materializing beside her husband. His tone was just as emotionless as Puck's, just as cold, hard and uncaring. He, too, had a black eye and bloodstained clothing. "We shouldn't stay here."

  "In this condition," Gillian said, "Winter and Cameron are defenseless."

  "Not my problem," Puck replied.

  Just how deep did his coldness run, that he would voice such a callous remark?

  William went stiff, anger glinting in his eyes. "There's business I must attend to. I'll be back." He flashed away.

  Relieved to have a private moment with Puck, Gillian said, "We can't leave while he's gone. You need him, remember? So for now, you're stuck here. We can use the time to melt your ice." Please.

  "The ice is not the problem," Puck said. "You are."

  What? "Me?" She pointed to herself, just in case he needed clarification.

  "You would have died for William. You would have killed me to save him."

  Was that the problem? Jutting her chin, she said, "I'd do it again, if necessary." Know the truth, deal with it, because there was no changing it.

  He took a step back, as if she'd kicked him.

  Then she added, "But I would have gone after you, too. Probably faster. Okay, definitely faster. And, if necessary, I would have mowed William down to do it."

  His gaze bored into hers, searching, his pupils dilating. His breathing became uneven, and his hands balled into fists.

  The ice was melting at last!

  Triumph blended with feminine power--the kind of power only he could rouse--and it was more heady than magic. One day, people would say the wily Gillian melted Puck with truth.

  "Come, lass. We are going to chat." He stalked toward her and, without a pause in his stride, hefted her over his shoulder and carried her to the blanket Peanut rested upon. "And do not worry about the others. The thorny vine I set will keep predators at bay."

  He sat, then tugged her into his lap, her body sideways with her shoulder pressed against his chest.

  "You like me better than him," he said, and smirked with satisfaction. "You want to stay married to me forever."

  One thing was certain. Smirk still looked good on him. "I'm not sure how you went from I like you better than William to I want to stay married to you forever." Whispering now, she said, "But I think you're right."

  His grip on her tightened. "I will make your happiness my mission, lass."

  "Even though I refuse to agree to your terms? Because I won't destroy your dream, Puck. I won't. If we're going to be together, you're going to become king of the Connachts. Maybe we can convince William to release you from your vow?"

  Would her friend be willing?

  No. No, she didn't think he would. So, there had to be another another way.

  No happy ending...what could be versus what would be... Foreboding settled on her shoulders.

  "Be warned now," Puck said. "Let there be no misunderstandings between us. I won't let you go. I will do whatever proves necessary to keep you, and I will choose you over anything. Life will no longer be about what is best for others or me. Life will be about what is best for Gillian and Puck. We are a team. A family. I will trust you, and you will trust me."

  Never, in all her days, had she heard a more beautiful or heartfelt pledge. Tears stung her eyes, the urge to wrap her arms around him and cling nearly too strong to deny. But even now, she couldn't agree to his terms. The past few days, he'd given her more than she'd ever imagined possible. So, from now on, she would give to him; she would do anything to ensure he lived his dream.

  Needing a distraction...another dinner date...Gillian dug into her bag, withdrew the satchel of berries and nuts she'd brought from home, and placed the ripest piece of fruit at his lips. "We missed breakfast and lunch, and I know how my warrior likes to keep up his strength. Open."

  "I am hungry." His eyes smoldered, all darkness and light. "But not for food."

  "Too bad." He usually ate on a schedule, but he'd been forgetting lately. "You need sustenance if you're going to keep up with me, old man. I'm young and I've got stamina."

  The corners of his mouth twitched before he accepted the berry. As he chewed, his brows drew together with surprise. "I can taste the richness of the flavors." He swiped the satchel and popped multiple berries into his mouth, chewed and frowned. "Tasteless now."

  She took two berries, placed one on his tongue and one on her own.

  Pleasure washed over his expression. "I can taste the flavors again, just as I once tasted you. So sweet. Delicious."

  He tasted...because she'd fed him? And because he'd feasted on her? How exquisitely tantalizing.

  "Give me more." With his hand wrapped around her wrist, he guided her fingertips to his open mouth to nip another berry. "Astonishing. When you feed me, I taste. When I feed myself, I don't."

  Astonishing indeed. And there was a very good chance she was the one smirking with satisfaction now. "I might make a vegetarian out of you yet," she teased.

  "Yes." Like a kid at Christmas, he motioned to the satchel. "Feed me more. Do not stop until we run out."

  His eagerness was contagious. Smiling, she placed a pecan-like nut inside his mouth, transfixed as he chewed. His eyes closed, a ragged moan leaving him. His throat moved sensuously as he swallowed, sending a spear of bliss straight to her core.

  "Just as delicious." Sultry tone, hooded gaze. He peered at Gillian as if she were a miracle. "Salty."

  She squirmed in his lap, her need for him only intensifying. When her hip brushed his erection, she stilled. He s
tilled. Neither of them dared to breathe. Then, with a grunt, Puck lifted and turned her, so that she straddled him.

  A whimper spilled from her mouth. "William could return at any moment." Even as she spoke, she twined her fingers through his hair and rocked against him. Another spear of bliss. A gasp. "We can't." But I want to... "And we must remain on alert for a magical attack from Sin."

  "We can do this while remaining alert." His hands flexed on her hips. "My woman needs to come, so I'm going to ensure she comes. I left her needy and aching."

  Come...yes. With him, only ever him. Here and now. Tomorrow and always. Her inhalations turned ragged, scraping her throat. Arousal throbbed between her legs. "Yes, we'll remain alert."

  Impossible.

  Shut up.

  When she pressed her forehead against Puck's, her hair created a curtain around their faces. In that moment, they were the only two people alive--and staying still wasn't an option.

  Helpless, Gillian rocked against him, taking, giving. Yes! With her breasts flush against his chest, her nipples rubbed, rubbed. More bliss. Rapture, rippling through her. "I can never get enough of you."

  "Never," he agreed. "Want you always."

  "Need you."

  "Lost without you."

  Don't lose track of--Oh! That felt good. He anchored his hands on her ass, fingers splayed, and ground against her with more force.

  A twig snapped. Leaves swished together. Incoming.

  Noooo! Not now. Puck stiffened and stood, his body shaking with rage. Gillian choked back a whimper and rose, a dagger palmed.

  William entered the clearing, took one look at them and scowled. "I spoke with Hades. We have two weeks to overthrow Sin, or the Sent Ones will destroy this entire realm."

  The entire realm? "But why?"

  William glared at Puck. "Apparently your asshole brother bombed a sacred temple, killing hundreds of Sent Ones, and the entire race is out for his blood. But no worries. Hades is sending reinforcements."

  Two weeks to figure out a way to be with Puck and keep his dream alive. Two weeks at most. If they found Sin sooner...

  Gillian's stomach churned, arousal and good humor gone. A countdown had been placed on her happiness, and she could think of no way to stop it.

  33

  With Gillian no longer wrapped in his arms, Puck struggled to remain calm. His emotions had gotten caught up in some sort of crisis, causing the demon to protest louder than ever. Think, think. Help from Hades? Sent Ones determined to attack? The coming destruction of Amaranthia? Sin marked for death by an entire species?