The Darkest Kiss lotu-3

by Gena Showalter

  She saw him and gasped. "Naked," she said, staring at him. "Am I in…heaven?"

  Should have dressed first. "Not yet." Spirits often tried to talk to him, and he rarely replied. This time, his response was automatic. "Soon. The angels are much prettier than I." He escorted her skyward just as quickly, ready to return to his own piece of heaven.

  He wasn't sure how long he had taken, but he flashed back to the home in Greece and materialized. Finally, Death quieted. Anya was on her back, one hand massaging her breasts, one hand between her legs, two fingers pumping in and out.

  She was moaning, pink and dewy.

  Once again, Lucien was on fire, burning, burning, as he crawled on top of her, jealous that he was not the one inside her. At the first touch, he and the demon sighed in unison. This was where they belonged.

  Anya's eyes popped open. She grinned sensuously. "I couldn't wait."

  Lucien rolled them over, pinning himself underneath her. "I am glad. I liked the sight of you."

  "Mmm, you're so strong," she praised. "So determined. Why can't I get enough of you?"

  Her eyes met his for a split second, and he felt like the most beautiful man ever to walk the earth. There was so much passion and admiration in that crystalline gaze of hers.

  "You amaze me," he told her, caressing her cheek. Tenderness flooded him. He'd eschewed gentler emotions for so long he didn't yet know how to handle them. But he was willing to try. For Anya.

  "Just wait…" Sensuously she moved down his body. Her head bent and her lush lips opened over the rounded head of his shaft one more time. Down she pumped, again taking him all the way to the back of her throat.

  This time, there was no guilt to cloud his passion. He hadn't shamed her into this; she truly desired him. And the knowledge made him dizzy, made him sizzle. He was scorched and blistered to his soul as he arched his back, seeking more of that moist heat.

  "So hot," she praised. Her teeth scraped the head gently, heating him even more.

  "Anya." He clawed at the covers.

  One of her hands dabbled at his testicles, and the other stretched up his chest to pluck at his nipple. All the while she continued to drive her mouth up and down. Soon he was writhing, mindless of anything but the pleasure.

  It was nearly more than he could bear.

  Surely he, Death, would die when he came this time. Surely he—

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the slam of a door, the low baritone of a voice exclaiming at the destruction found in the living room.

  Anya's heavenly mouth stopped moving. He nearly roared, nearly cursed, nearly hacked the entire bed to pieces. Where is your calm? He was panting, sweating. Aching. The demon was snapping ferociously again.

  "Lucien," Anya said. She was breathless.

  He struggled to control his body, his mind, drawing in shallow rasps of air as best he could. Blood screamed in his ears. Desire continued to beat hard fists through him. He needed to come. He needed to make Anya his woman, over and over again.

  "Lucien," she repeated as the voice became louder.

  "What the hell happened?" he heard Strider growl. Footsteps pounded.

  "Defeat," he snarled. "Do not enter my bedroom. I need a moment."

  "We need a moment," Anya called.

  The footsteps ceased. "One minute, and I'm coming in."

  Lucien tried to sit up just as cold steel clamped around his wrist. Brow puckered, he looked to the side. Frowned. Anya had locked him to the bed.

  "Anya," he said. "A game?"

  "No."

  A pause. A muscle ticked below his eye. "Chains cannot hold me."

  "These can." She hopped off the bed and rushed to the closet, jerking a shirt and pair of pants from the hangers. "Sorry, sugar, but we aren't done talking and I can't let you leave until we are."

  He tugged at the chain. It rattled, but didn't break. Dread coursed through him. He tried to flash, but failed. The reason she'd gone to his room in Buda became clear. She'd gathered the chains. "Let me go. Now."

  She looked at him, a flitter of sadness in her eyes. "I don't have the key."

  "It is in my pants. Those," he said, motioning to the closet floor with his free hand. In his preoccupation with Anya, he'd forgotten to leave the key in Buda with the chains, so had been carrying it around.

  She picked them up. "These?"

  "Yes."

  She dug the small metal key out and held it in her flat palm. Tiny dark clouds formed around it, a contained gust of wind seeming to swirl just above it. In a blink, the clouds disappeared and the wind died. The key was gone. She brushed her empty hands together in triumph over a job well done.

  "Anya!" he shouted. "What did you do? Where is the key?"

  "Lucien?" Strider called, concerned.

  "Not yet," he called back.

  "Don't worry," Anya said. "You aren't helpless. That little key Cronie Wonie wants, well, it's the All-Key and it can unlock anything. Even those." She pointed to the chains.

  "Prove it. Unlock me. Now!"

  "Sorry, sweetcakes, but you need a little Lucien-time, and I'm nice enough to give it to you."

  "Anya!" He was naked and undeniably aroused. If only a raging hard-on would go away because of a little anger. He wished, but no. "We had a truce."

  "Which is why you're chained and not dead." Fully dressed now, she approached the bed. His clothing bagged on her, but she had never been more beautiful.

  He lunged for her, hoping to grab on to her wrist, but she danced out of his reach with a laugh. "You deserve this, and you know it. Take the punishment like a good boy."

  "Anya," he said again, trying to sound composed. He didn't. If his voice had been a sword, she would have been hacked to pieces.

  Staying out of striking distance, she pinched the edge of the comforter and tossed it over his erection. "There. Your modesty can be preserved."

  Even then, he wanted her. Ribbons of hair streamed around her and she was staring at the blanket with longing, as if she wanted to be the one draped over him.

  "Anya—"

  "Get rid of Defeat, and I'll come back." With that, she disappeared.

  His head fell against the pillow. "Damn this!" He slammed his unfettered hand into the headboard behind him.

  Strider burst into the room, two blades upraised. "Ready or not," he said, "here I come." He glanced at the damaged chamber and then the chains. "What the hell happened? House is a mess, too."

  "Put those away," Lucien said, motioning to the weapons with a tilt of his chin. "Anya and I had a little fight."

  All hint of concern left Strider's harsh features. "And then you decided to play a game of bondage? I dig." He laughed. "I didn't think you were into that kind of thing."

  "Shut up and get out of here. She won't come back until you do."

  "Hell, no. I'm not leaving." Strider plopped onto the side of the bed. "One, I want to witness the fireworks. Two, I'm not leaving you helpless. We may not have been in touch these past few centuries, but that doesn't mean I don't have your back now. Just don't get any ideas. I don't swing that way."

  Lucien kicked him in the chest, sending him to the ground. "Strider." He covered his face with his free hand. "Gods, this is humiliating." Had Reyes or Paris been the ones to find him, it would not have been so bad.

  "You want popcorn or something?" Strider asked, darting to his feet with a grin.

  "I want you to leave."

  "Uh, no."

  "I'm not helpless. And she won't hurt me. She could have already, but she didn't."

  A pause. A sigh. "Fine." Strider strode from the room.

  Lucien thought the warrior meant to leave the home completely, but Strider returned a few moments later holding a small black cell phone.

  "This little baby has camera and e-mail capabilities." Wiggling his eyebrows, he snapped a few photos of Lucien on the bed, making sure to get the chains.

  "Stop," Lucien growled.

  "Uh, again, no. Now make love to the cam
era for me. Good, good. The angry sex look is perfect. Man, this is one for the scrapbook."

  Lucien glared at him. "Some men fear my anger."

  "Hate to break it to you, Death, but I don't think they will when they see you attached to a headboard, a blanket tented over your lap."

  Heat infused Lucien's cheeks. "I will pay you back for this. You know that, don't you?"

  Strider suddenly sobered. "Don't challenge me. You know I am Defeat's keeper, and I'll do anything—even kill my own mother if I had one—to win a challenge. I can't stop until I do."

  Lucien threw a pillow at him. "Then put the camera away and leave."

  Smiling again, Strider finally did as ordered. Well, one order at least. He stuffed the camera in his pocket. "So, hey. Have you seen Paris?"

  "No. Why?"

  "He took off earlier to do some shopping, and I haven't seen or heard from him since."

  "He's probably with a woman. Or two. I wouldn't worry about him. Knowing him, he'll want to be at top strength before he joins the search, which means he might be a few days behind us. He has needed even more sex than usual lately."

  "Apparently he's not the only one." Strider leered at him. "Gideon will be ticked if Paris left without him. Guess I'll have to let the boys work it out. I've got a plane to South Africa to catch. I'm eager to start looking for little Miss Hydra and whatever treasure she's hiding."

  "Did you call Sabin?"

  "Oh, yeah. He's excited as hell. Says they haven't had any luck at the Temple of the Unspoken Ones, even with several blood sacrifices, but he senses that something is there and doesn't want to leave."

  "Good." Hopefully someone would find something sooner rather than later. "I have not had a chance to flash to him." His mind had been too consumed with Anya.

  Strider's phone gave a loud beep. The warrior withdrew it and flipped it open, grinning. "Speaking of Sabin, I already e-mailed your picture to him and he just replied. He thinks you look real good like that. Says you should pose more often."

  Lucien fell back, banging his head against the board. The chains clinked. "Get out of here. Anya and I have something to settle."

  "Man, you are one lucky son of a bitch. I'd like to settle something with that delicious cupcake."

  Lucien's eyes narrowed, rage sparking to life. "Do not talk about her like that."

  Strider blinked in wonder, but left it alone. "I'll stay close until I know you're free. See you around, Death. Have fun." He strode out of the room, then out of the house, the door closing behind him with a snap.

  "I am alone now," Lucien called.

  No response.

  "Anya."

  Nothing.

  He waited several more minutes, then called her name again. Still she did not respond. Damn this! Was she playing with him? Punishing him?

  Or was something wrong with her?

  A horrifying image suddenly popped in his head, so vivid he broke out in a sweat. Anya standing in the middle of her apartment in Switzerland, Cronus looming over her. They were locked in a heated debate.

  Lucien's demon snarled, and Lucien began to suspect the image was indeed real. It was simply too detailed, down to the bead of sweat on her temple. What were the two saying? He couldn't hear, and panic speared him.

  Had Cronus decided to kill her on his own, then? Lucien struggled more forcefully against the bonds, but the links never budged.

  "Anya!"

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "I WANT THE ALL-KEY, ANYA."

  Tensing at the sudden intrusion, Anya faced her nemesis, her heart pounding inside her chest. Here he was, up close and personal. Cronus, the brand-new king of gods. A vile bastard. And the guy who'd ordered Lucien to hunt her down and slay her like an animal.

  Hey, that'd make a great singles ad, she thought drily. Powerful SWM with a penchant for ordering hits, looking for SWF to help rule the world. Interested? Stroke my ego and give me all you hold dear.

  "I want an eternity of peace," she replied, "but we don't always get what we want. Do we?"

  His teeth clinked together.

  Anya had come here to change her clothing, which she'd done a few minutes ago, going from baggy to sexy in minutes. Thank the—not the gods, that was for sure—Cronus hadn't materialized then. She didn't want any man but Lucien seeing her naked.

  Lucien.

  She'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of him that she hadn't realized Cronus had made an appearance in her Zürich apartment until he'd spoken. That wasn't like her. Usually she knew. Usually she sensed and ran.

  She could have flashed just then, but she didn't. Suddenly she wanted to hear what the big dumb-dumb had to say. Did he mean to complain about Lucien?

  "The key," Cronus snapped. "Give it to me."

  "We've covered this before, bossie baby. My answer hasn't changed."

  He circled around her, facing her, glaring at her, so close his thick silver beard tickled her chin. His long white robe brushed her legs and his ambrosia scent wafted around her. Power radiated from him.

  The Greeks had been powerful, too. Zeus with his lightning and Hera with her penchant for jealous revenge. But this being had mowed them down as if they were insignificant flies and would love to do the same to her.

  Unexpectedly, he straightened. His expression cleared. "I have seen your interactions with Death."

  "So?" she said, trying not to reveal an ounce of trepidation. Which interactions had he witnessed? The idea that he might have watched the two of them in Lucien's bedroom revolted her. "What of it?"

  "You like him."

  "Again, so? I like a lot of men." Please don't hear the lie in my voice.

  "Willingly give me the All-Key, and I will bind him to your side. He will be yours to command for all eternity."

  Oh, that was tempting. Cronus probably had no idea just how great a gift he was offering. Finally, she would be on equal footing with a man. To have Lucien for as long as she wanted him, to simply ask him to do something and know he would comply. But she'd spent centuries fighting to prevent such a fate herself. She couldn't wish it on another, especially a man as proud as Lucien. Plus, he was already bound by his demon. Plus, he'd only just been released from Maddox's death-curse. Taking even more of his freedom would be criminal.

  "Nope. Sorry. I'd be tired of him within a week. Right now his attempts to kill me are amusing, and I'm enjoying toying with his affections, but…" She shrugged as if she were already tired of it. "Why don't you just take the key from me?" She batted her lashes at him innocently. "Why don't you kill me for it?"

  His scowl returned. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

  "Maybe a wee bit." With the taunt, she heard her father's voice in her head as clearly as if he'd spoken the words yesterday, though too many years to count had passed. Men will try to kill you for what I am about to give you, because they'll wrongly think it's the way to win it from you.

  Kill me. For what? I don't understand. She'd shaken her head. Never mind, just don't give me whatever it is. I don't want any more men after me. Just let me go.

  And risk your being found and imprisoned again? No. Soon you will realize the key's reward is worth its hazards. You will never be bound again. You will be able to travel anywhere you desire with only a thought. You will be free. Always.

  Key? Father—

  Listen to me. If they can kill you, they can snatch it, but he who strikes the death blow will be rendered powerless for the rest of his life. Because of that, many will leave you alone. Some, though, will forget the consequences in their lust to control the key's powers.

  Are you listening? he'd chided, shaking her. Be vigilant. It has to be given freely for the recipient to remain strong. But then you, the giver, will be the one rendered powerless. For the key is alive, part of you, and absorbs pieces of you that will be transferred should you pass it on to another. Understand now?

  No!

  Once you take it, never let it go. It is yours, my gift to you. Proof of my love.

&n
bsp; Teary-eyed, she had opened her mouth to ask if he would be rendered powerless by giving the mysterious key to her, but he'd already taken matters into his own hands, so to speak. He'd already begun to weaken.

  "I'm not going to use it against you," she told Cronus now. "Well, not again."

  "As you said, we have covered this. You will."

  "Only for my parents. Which means, only if you capture them again."

  "I am unwilling to take your word. You are a known liar."

  There was no denying that. Not without lying. "Look, we both know you want Lucien to kill me, making him powerless while you keep your strength. The key will be up for grabs, but he'll be too weak to make a play for it, leaving the field wide open for you. I could tell him. He might tell you to go fuck yourself then."

  "You do not believe that or you would have told him already."

  Maybe. Maybe not. She suspected she hadn't told Lucien not because of what he'd do to Cronus but because of what he'd do to her. Like walk away from her for good. Besides that, would he even have believed her? He probably would have thought she'd made the whole thing up to keep him at bay.

  "We both know it will not stop him from obeying me," Cronus said. "He loves his warriors too much to watch them suffer, even if the price of their freedom is his own."

  "So why hasn't he obeyed you already, huh?"

  "You have bewitched him."

  She should be so lucky. She sighed, the sound part exasperation, part remembered pleasure. Lucien…Even now he was in bed. Naked. Did he still want her?

  His desire had been a thing of beauty, and she'd been eager to see it through to the end. To taste him again. She, too, probably would have climaxed again, for just the thought of sucking him to another orgasm made her tremble.

  Trying to distract herself, she flipped her hair over one shoulder and eyed Cronus. Time to get his mind off Lucien. "Having the key might—might—fortify Tartarus and make it the stronghold it once was, locking the Greeks inside forevermore so that they don't escape like you did. But where is the fun in that? Where's the adventure?"

  "I lost my sense of adventure long ago." He waved a dismissive hand through the air. "I will not be overthrown again. I will not have the Greeks escaping, and I will not have you aiding them. To ensure my continued reign, I need the key."