Gena Showalter - [Lords of the Underworld 13]

by The Darkest Craving

  “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.”

  “Say thank you.” For now, that would be enough.

  “Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you,” she said with a grin.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He stood. “I’ll call Sienna.” She split her time between training with the Sent Ones and hunting the Unspoken Ones, monsters now on the loose. “She’ll come and meet you, and we can get started on our quest. Agreed?” He held out his hand.

  She looked at the glove, then his eyes, then the glove. Slowly she removed the material, and...he let her. He couldn’t bring himself to stop her. Then, she studied the hand that hadn’t seen the sun in decades and gulped.

  “Mari?”

  “I agree.” She placed her palm against his, twined their fingers, and shook.

  His response embarrassed him. His body instantly reacted, as if preparing for the dirtiest kind of sex. His skin tingled as if brushed by living flame, and his blood turned molten.

  Must. Have. More.

  * * *

  CAMEO PACED THE confines of the office. It was weird. Visually, no part of the room was off-limits. She could see everything. The desk, the chair, the bookcases, the glass shelves. But she couldn’t walk everywhere.

  Anytime she approached the shelves, she would experience a moment of vertigo, blink and find her nose in the far corner of the room.

  The same had happened to Lazarus, but only once. After that, he’d given up. Now he reclined against the far wall, watching her with sardonic amusement.

  “Is the guy still there?” she asked. “And you never told me who he is.”

  “Yes, he’s still there. But he’s more of a monster than a guy. And his name? No. I won’t give it.”

  Why not? “What’s he doing?”

  “Watching you.”

  The thought irritated her on every level. “Why can’t I see him? Why can’t I get to him?” And where was Viola? What had happened to her? Was she still trapped inside the Rod? “You led me to believe I would be involved in a dangerous battle.”

  He waved her words away. “I was wrong. It’s happened once before.”

  “Well, stop lazing around, and help me figure out a solution.”

  “No. I understand why the monster is having so much fun. Watching you use the same methods every time, and failing the same way, just to try to reach him is highly amusing.”

  So. Irritating. “I hope you choke on your own tongue.”

  “Why, so you can dig it out with your own?”

  Argh! “Are you flirting with me?”

  “How cute.” He looked past her. “Pretty warrior woman doesn’t know the difference between an informed question and flirting.”

  Was he speaking to the invisible beast? His supposed enemy?

  She marched to the wall where he sat and sank beside him. “I’m done being the night’s entertainment.”

  “Too bad.” His dark gaze swept over her at a leisurely pace. “You’re quite attractive, female, but your voice needs work. A lot of work.”

  “Insults from you?” She drummed her nails against her thighs. “I remember you, you know. A few months back, you attended the Harpy Games with Strider and Sabin. You’re the consort of the Harpy in charge.”

  Fire crackled in his eyes—literal fire. “I am no one’s consort.”

  Hit a nerve, had she? “I wonder what your consort would say about that. I met her. Juliette was her name, yes?”

  His nostrils flared, a testament to the fury brewing inside him. “When I get out of this office, and I will, she’ll be too busy being dead to say anything.”

  “Because you plan to kill her?”

  “Yes.” Simply stated, leaving no doubt he meant what he said. “I once chose death over her companionship. I will again, no problem—only this time, I’ll do it in reverse.”

  “Maybe I’ll kill you and gift her with your head,” she replied pleasantly.

  “Maybe I’ll cut out your tongue and do the world a favor.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Maybe I’ll gut you just for giggles.”

  “Maybe I’ll stab the life out of you and do myself a favor.”

  Enough! Cameo jumped to her feet and motioned him over. “You want to do this, warrior? Because I’m ready. Anytime. Anyplace.”

  Lazarus unfolded his big body and straightened. “You don’t want to take me on, little girl. You’ll lose.”

  She went chest to chest with him. “I think differently. On both counts.”

  He squared the wide width of his shoulders, standing his ground, not the least bit intimidated. A mistake many men had made. “Do your worst then. But have no doubts, I’ll then do mine.”

  No. She wouldn�
��t do her worst. That’s what he expected, maybe even wanted. She’d just have to go another route and surprise him.

  Like a child, she shoved him with all her might. His startled expression was priceless as he stumbled backward and into the wall—no, through the wall?

  Gasping, Cameo rushed to the space he’d last occupied. One second she stood inside the office, the next she was outside. Trees swayed in a gentle breeze. A river rushed and trickled over smooth rocks. Birds sang as they flew across the sunny skyline. White clouds drifted past, serene and flawless.

  “What did you do to me?” Lazarus demanded, striding from the shade of one of the trees to get in her face.

  “Me? You went through the wall, and I must have followed.”

  He spun, seeming to take everything in at once. He stiffened. “I think we’re moving between the dimensions,” he muttered, clearly talking to himself. “That would mean the Rod spit us out in another dimension, the office was another, and this is yet another.”

  This was the first she’d ever heard of different dimensions. “Care to explain what you mean to the rest of the class?”

  He scrubbed a hand down his face. “There are two realms. Natural and spiritual. Between the realms are dimensions—pockets of life caught between the natural and the spiritual.”

  Dread wrapped hard fingers around her heart. “What does that mean for us?”

  His eyes were dead as he said, “We’ll never go home.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  New York

  KANE’S FURY PROVED limitless. Tink’s abduction had been caught on a nearby security camera, allowing him to watch the way Red, Black and Green had cornered and grabbed her. She’d put up a fight, the way Kane had taught her, and she’d even managed to bust Red in the eye, but she’d been no match for the strength of the immortals, and they’d put her to sleep with pressure on her carotid and carried her away, soon disappearing from view. He’d hunted as if his life depended on success—worse, Tink’s life—but the three had covered their tracks too well.

  I should have killed those hellhounds when I had the chance.

  Kane tossed and turned on the lumpy motel bed. He needed to relax, and concentrate. He planned to summon Tink, somehow, through their link, and force her to project her image into his mind. They would talk. She would tell him where she was.

  He forced himself to close his eyes. Lucien had refused to leave his side, and was now resting comfortably on the other bed, Anya draped across his body. “I’m a living tramp stamp,” she’d said laughingly before drifting off.

  Lucien hadn’t wanted to spend the night without her. Actually, Lucien couldn’t function a few hours without her. It was disgusting. It was embarrassing.

  That’s what I feel with Tink.

  Disaster chuckled. Too bad you’ll never see her again.

  The fiend was in the best mood of his existence. Though Kane had hoped to provide zero nourishment, he’d unwittingly prepared another feast—and was still serving seconds. The darkness of his emotions had become an internal IV for the demon, offering strength and contentedness, no matter what happened around him.

  “Tink,” Kane inwardly shouted. “Tink, I need you. Need you so much.” Even when she’d been ticked at him, she’d never been able to resist aiding him.

  There was no response.

  Time for another tactic... “Tinker Bell. Josephina. Wife! You have five seconds to appear or the next time I see you I will put you over my knee.”

  Still no response.

  “One. Two. I’m serious, I mean it. Three. Four. Last chance to save yourself from the humiliation of my wrath. Fi—”

  Fog rolled in, surrounding his bed. Then Tink was standing over him. “You will not put me over your knee, you...you...caveman!”

  Every cell in his body cried out in relief. It had worked. “Are you okay?” he demanded. “Have the warriors hurt you?” There were no bruises on her skin, and the clothes Malcolm had given her were still intact, without a single tear.

  If Lucien and Anya heard him, they ignored him.

  “I’m good,” she said. “The guys have actually been kind of nice, doing their best to romance me so that I’ll decide to live with them forever and, I’m just guessing here, make them my brother husbands.” She looked Kane over, and what remained of the ambivalence left her in a snap. “What about you? You said you needed me. Is something wrong?”

  “Of course something’s wrong. You’re not at my side. And what do you mean you heard me? Why didn’t you reply right away?” he demanded, but he already knew the answer. He was still in the doghouse.

  Chin trembling, as if she were suddenly fighting tears, she said, “I’m not helpless. Not anymore. I’m handling things.”

  “I know, Tinky Dink. I do. But I miss you. I want you with me for all the days of my life. I’m not complete without you. Let me come for you.”

  * * *

  JOSEPHINA PEERED AT Kane, his sweet words echoing in her mind. I’m not complete without you. She had to forgive him for the kiss, didn’t she? She had to torch the bitterness trying so diligently to grow roots deep in her heart, or she’d be trapped in this state for the rest of her life. He’d done what he’d done out of desperation and a desire to protect her. He’d promised never to do it again, and she believed him.

  He wanted to make things right between them, but so far, she hadn’t given him a chance. He’d called for her, his voice whisking through a doorway they’d somehow opened between their minds—I need you—and though her heart had sped into a wild beat of excitement, she’d ignored the urge to respond to him. For a little while, at least.

  She just...she hadn’t wanted him to see her like this. Defeated. Not again. Unlike the Fae, he prized strength in a female. So, she’d wanted to prove herself worthy and free herself, surprising him.

  She would be all, Ta da! Here I am. Look at what I did all by myself. Aren’t I spectacular?

  He would never again think to kiss another woman just to protect her.

  But, at this rate, Josephina may not ever get free.

  So, she had a few choices to make. Either she believed Kane would want her, no matter what, or she had to let him go. Either she forgave him completely, and stayed with him, or held on to her hurt and bitterness and remained alone. She couldn’t have both. If she couldn’t trust him, if she couldn’t forgive, but stayed with him anyway, she would continue to lash out at him, and she knew very well what such cruel treatment could do to a person.

  “Kane,” she said.

  He looked away from her. “Yes, Tink.”

  He thought she meant to reject him, she realized. “Project to me.”

  He knew what she meant, and a second later, he was standing before her, gazing at her with hope.

  Her chest constricted as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. “I’m really glad you called me.”

  He buried his face in the hollow of her neck. “You are?”

  “I am.” The tears returned, but this time, they sprang from a well of joy. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything. Anytime. Always.” He straightened, brushed the corners of her eyes with his thumbs.

  She gulped, almost unable to bear his tenderness. “Would you have picked me above all women? If you hadn’t been forced to marry me, I mean.”

  “I would. I do. And I was never forced, Tinker Bell. I wanted you, and I would have found a way to have you. Your father just made things easier for me.”

  Her mouth curved upward of its own accord. “So...you think I’m special.”

  “The specialest.”

  A laugh bubbled over. “I know it didn’t seem like it at the time, but I would have picked you above all men.”

  “Even Torin and Paris?”

  “Especially Torin and Paris. You are, without a doubt, the sexiest man ever created. I just didn’t want you to regret what we were doing.”

  “I’ll never regret my time with you.” He kissed her, a sweet meeting of li
ps more about comfort than passion. But oh, the passion was there, too. Always it was there. “What you said...thank you, Tink. I was always the warrior left behind. My friends didn’t want to risk the trouble Disaster would cause and I couldn’t blame them. It’s nice to be wanted.”

  He understood her pain, she realized. Their circumstances might have been different, but the outcome had been the same: a deep sense of rejection. He’d probably longed for acceptance all the days of his life. He’d probably hoped and dreamed of helping his friends, only to be crushed time and time again when they overlooked his amazing battle skills.

  “There’s no one else I’d rather have fight for me,” she said truthfully.

  He graced her with another kiss. “You are a treasure. I hope you know that.”

  She beamed at him. A compliment she hadn’t had to give to herself. Was there anything sweeter? “Where did you go when we were running from the Brother Husbands?”

  “The Moirai summoned me.”

  “Oh.” Oh, no. “What happened?”

  “I did what was necessary, and it might take the witches a few years to recover,” he said flatly. “Where are the Brother Husbands—is that what we’re calling them now? Where are they keeping you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “What do you remember seeing?”

  “Well, I remember being on the street, then engaging the boys, then...nothing until I woke up inside a tent. I don’t know what’s outside it—I would have looked, but I’m bound to a post.”

  He arched a brow. “You consider their binding you to a post doing their best to romance you?”

  “They only bound me after I threw Green’s specially prepared food in his face—a fourth time. Anyway. The air is hot and smells of patchouli. There are four fur beds on the ground, and I think I hear screams in the background.”

  A dark curtain fell over Kane’s features. “I know where you are. I’ll be there before sunrise.”

  * * *

  HE HAD TO return to hell.

  The moment the fog disappeared, taking Tink with it, Kane stopped projecting his image and rose from the bed. His legs shook. His stomach twisted.

  A hand here...a mouth there...so helpless...

  A whip across his legs. A dagger along his ribs.