The Darkest Whisper lotu-5

by Gena Showalter

  Well, if they didn’t, they should.

  “Next time we fight, though, I want you to let your Harpy completely free,” he said.

  She nodded reluctantly. Letting the Harpy come out for lovemaking was one thing; battling was quite another.

  “Just think about what you will soon be doing to the Hunters,” Kaia said with awe. “Baby girl, I’ve never seen moves like yours.”

  “Mother would be proud.” Taliyah strode beside her and slapped her on the back. “If we knew where she was, she might even welcome you back into her fold.”

  Gwen could have danced. She’d always been the anomaly, the weak link, the mistake. With one sweet victory, she finally felt like she was one of them. Like she was worthy.

  Silent, Sabin reached up and plucked the daggers from her now shaky hands. What thoughts were tumbling through his mind?

  “Good job.” Ashlyn rubbed her rounded belly. “I’m truly impressed.”

  Grinning, Danika clapped. “Sabin, you should be embarrassed. You were brought down in less than a minute.”

  “And by a girl.” But Kaia’s amusement quickly faded. “Okay, now that the training is winding down, I have a question. When are we going to see some action?” She anchored her hands on her hips. “We’re bored. We’ve been bored. And we’ve been on damn good behavior, waiting.”

  “Yeah. Hunters hurt baby sis, so now they need to pay,” Bianka said.

  “Soon,” Sabin told them. “I swear it.”

  That scared Gwen a little. Not enough to change the course she’d set for herself, though.

  “But at the moment, I’m going to spend some time with the woman of the hour. Alone.” No one protested as Sabin ushered Gwen to a private alcove, where he’d already stashed a cooler. He motioned for her to sit inside a cool circle of shade. “Do you need more blood?”

  “No.” Seriously, what was he thinking? He was polite, but more distant than ever. Clearly “alone time” didn’t require nudity and a bed. How disappointing. “I’m okay. Operating at full strength, even.” To prove it, she too remained standing.

  “Good. Much as I want to give it to you, I want to see how you recover from minor wounds without it.”

  “I’m not wounded, minor or otherwise.”

  “Really.” His pointed gaze dropped to her arm.

  She looked down and saw the bloody grooves in her forearm. “Oh.” Wow. Getting shot must have inured her to the pain of other injuries.

  “Let me know the moment it’s gone.”

  Always the trainer. She liked that about him. Everything was a lesson meant to strengthen her, prepare her for what could happen. It really showed how much he cared, because he didn’t do it for everyone. Only her, actually.

  Now that she thought about it, he only reacted with violence when someone threatened her. Kaia and Bianka had verbally insulted and physically assaulted his friends on several occasions, and he’d grinned, even joined in the teasing. But the moment her sisters turned their teasing her way, Sabin’s mood darkened. He never hesitated to shove them away, either. Really shove. To him, men and women were equal in every way and deserved the same treatment, something else she admired about him.

  “Sit,” he urged again. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Fine.”

  When she’d obeyed, he held up an ice-cold, dripping bottle of water. “If you want to earn it, you’ll tell me what happens to a Harpy when she takes a consort. Tell me how long she has the consort, and what’s expected of him.”

  Was he…could he be…thinking about signing on for the job? Her eyes were wide as he plopped a few feet in front of her and stretched out.

  “Well?”

  “Consorts are forever,” she croaked, “and very rare. A Harpy is a free spirit, but every so often one will encounter a male who…delights her. That’s the best word I can think of to describe the obsession. His smell and touch become drugs to her. His voice soothes her fury as nothing else is able, almost as if it strokes her feathers. As to what’s expected of him, I don’t know. I’ve never met a Harpy with a consort.”

  He arched a brow. “You’ve never had one? A consort, I mean. And if you dare say chicken man…”

  “No, no consort.” Tyson had not delighted her Harpy, that was for sure. She waved her fingers at the water. “I earned it.” The bottle was soaring through the air a second later. Cold liquid splashed her arms when she caught it. In seconds, she had the contents drained.

  “Do Harpies have to obey their consorts?”

  A laugh bubbled from her. “No. Do you honestly think a Harpy has to obey anyone?”

  He shrugged, and she caught a glimpse of both resolve and disappointment in his dark gaze.

  “Why do you want to know?” she asked.

  “Your sisters seemed to think…” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Never mind.”

  “What?”

  His gaze became piercing. “Sure you want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “They think I am your consort.”

  Her chin hit her sternum, her mouth forming a wide O. “What?” she repeated, sounding foolish even to her own ears. “Why would they think that?” And why hadn’t they talked to her about it, rather than Sabin?

  “I calm you. You want me.” He was almost defensive.

  But if he…if she…holy hell. He did calm her. From the first, he’d calmed her. And she craved him, his blood, his presence, his body. She’d been such a failure at everything else in the Harpy world that she’d always figured a true consort wasn’t in the cards for her. Was it?

  When Sabin wasn’t with her, she was looking for him. When he was with her, she wanted to be snuggled up to him, enjoying him. She had shared her secrets with him and wasn’t sorry.

  Anya had told her Sabin belonged to her, but Gwen hadn’t believed the goddess back then. Now…holy hell, she thought again, dazed.

  Was that why Sabin had been so distant with her? He didn’t want to be her consort? Her stomach twisted painfully. “I don’t…I don’t know if I love you, though,” she said, trying to give him an out.

  Something dark filled his eyes. Something hard and hot. “You don’t have to love me.” The word “yet” hung between them, unsaid but there all the same.

  Did he love her? It was almost too much to hope for. Because, if he loved her, he would have touched her again. Right? “Let’s talk about the war,” she found herself saying, rather than asking what she really wanted to know: Why haven’t you made love to me? “Won’t be as uncomfortable.”

  He sighed. “Have it your way, then. I didn’t go to Chicago with the others, so I’ve been taking names from scrolls that list other demon-possessed immortals out there, looking for them in the books Lucien collected over the years and trying to learn about them.”

  He’d stayed for her. She knew that, and couldn’t stop the delight that spread through her. Perhaps he didn’t hate the thought of being her consort, after all. “Found anything?”

  “I recognized a lot of the names from my days in the heavens. Most of the prisoners in Tartarus were placed there by me and the other Lords, so we won’t be their favorite people. Might be best if we just hunt them down and kill them, so they don’t help Galen. Then again, he helped lock them away, too, back when he was one of us, so maybe it’s moot.” He paused, sighed again. “Look, I brought up the consort thing because I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  Disappointment and eagerness dueled for supremacy. Eagerness won. She straightened, ears perking. This was clearly an important subject to him. “I’m listening.”

  Motions stiff, he dug into the cooler and withdrew another water.

  “Payment?” she asked with a laugh. “I’ve already agreed to help you. No need to pay me.”

  Silent, he popped the lid and drained the contents.

  Her grin faded, the silence edged with tension. “What’s going on?”

  He fell back against the tree, looking everywhere but at her. “When the time comes for ba
ttle, and it will, sooner rather than later, I want you to stay here, away from the action.”

  Yeah. Right. She laughed again, her humor restored. “Funny.”

  “I’m serious. I have your sisters. I don’t need you.”

  But…he couldn’t mean this. Could he? This driven warrior would use anyone against the Hunters, would not be happy with three Harpies when he could have four. Right?

  “I would never joke about something like this,” he added.

  No, he wouldn’t. Just then it felt as if a thousand of Sabin’s daggers were stabbing at her chest, each of them aimed for her heart. Several of them succeeded in puncturing the organ, for it throbbed and burned. “But you said you needed me. You did everything in your power to enlist my aid. I’ve been training. I’ve improved.”

  He scoured a hand down his face, looking exhausted all of a sudden. “I did say that. You have improved.”

  “But?”

  “Damn it!” he suddenly growled, fist slamming into the ground. “I’m not ready for you to spring into active duty.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s going on? What changed your mind like this?” It would have taken something major, she knew.

  “I just…damn it,” he repeated. “Whatever goes down in Chicago will surely infuriate the Hunters. Look what happened after Egypt. They’ll come here. They’ll try to retaliate. I won’t be able to concentrate with you by my side. All right? I’ll worry. I’ll be distracted. And my distraction will place my men at risk.”

  Gwen didn’t know where she found the strength, but she pushed to her feet. Her eyes narrowed. He would worry. The female in her liked the thought of that. A lot. The blossoming warrior, the Harpy she now wanted to be, hated it, burning away the joy. She would never again be a coward.

  “You can train yourself not to worry, then, because I’m joining you. It’s my right.”

  He jumped to his feet, too, nostrils flared, hands fisted. “And it’s my right as your lover—consort, to dispatch your enemy for you.”

  “I never said you were my consort. So you listen up. I’ve waited my entire life to be something. To prove myself. You will not take this away from me. I won’t let you!”

  “No, he won’t,” Taliyah suddenly interjected. She stood off to the side, Kaia and Bianka beside her. Each radiated fury. “No one stops a Harpy. No one.”

  “Big mistake, Doubt,” Kaia told him. “Too bad—we were actually starting to like you.”

  “I knew eavesdropping was the smart thing to do,” Bianka said through clenched teeth. “You might be wonderfully vicious, but you’re still a man and we know better than to trust anything male. Look what happened the last time Gwen went down that road.”

  Taliyah ran her tongue over her straight, white teeth. “Gwen finally gave you what you wanted, and you decided you didn’t want it anymore. Typical.”

  “Gwen,” Kaia said. “Come. We’re leaving the fortress. We’ll take care of the Hunters on our own.”

  “No,” Sabin said. “There’ll be none of that.”

  For what seemed an eternity, Gwen simply stared over at him, silently begging him to tell her sisters they were wrong. Doubts consumed her, doubts that were all her own. Was he doing this to protect her, because he cared? Or did he simply have no faith in her abilities, even after all her hard work? Or was he planning to do something that would upset her—something with a female Hunter—and he didn’t want her to witness it?

  Or was his demon ruling his mind? If so, there had to be a way to combat it.

  “Sabin,” she said, hoping. “Let’s talk this—”

  “I want you to stay within these walls,” he said flatly. “At all times.”

  “You’ll leave me here, but you’ll utilize my sisters, right?”

  “Two of them. One will stay with you.”

  The women in question laughed. “As if,” they said in unison.

  Gwen raised her chin, glaring over at him. “They won’t help you without me. Still think to leave me?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation.

  How could he do this? How, when he’d worked so hard to win her and her sisters to his cause? Bile rose in her throat, burning like acid. “Do you want to win your war? Finally? Because you could. With us, with all of us, you very well could.”

  Silence. A silence that made her feel like she was being force-fed disappointment, regret and sadness, one rancid spoonful at a time.

  “Gwen,” Taliyah said, sharply this time. “Come.”

  Betrayed to her very soul, Gwen turned away from Sabin and followed her sisters.

  CHAPTER 21

  Chicago was cool and just a little windy. Still, the sun was like a glaring eye, following Gideon’s every move. But he liked the towering buildings and the closeness of the water; one gave him the feel of being in a big city and the other a beach. The best of two worlds.

  He and the other warriors had been here several days, yet had only now found the facility they’d come for. Somehow they’d passed it over and over again. Maybe because the numbers were off, or maybe because the twenty or so red brick buildings around it were exact copies of one another. Thin but tall, at least fourteen stories, two square windows on each floor.

  Despite the fact that it was so well hidden, they should not have walked past it over and over again like they had. Made him wonder if something else was going on, something more than his “maybes.” Something like magic.

  A protective spell, perhaps? He’d met a few witches over the years and knew they were a powerful race. Though why any would choose to work with the Hunters was beyond him.

  Finally, they’d come up with the brilliant idea of leaving Lucien out here alone, in spirit form, waiting for a Hunter to pass him. Hence another delay—Hunters weren’t always easy to spot, their clothes normal, their weapons hidden—so Lucien had followed many a human. His efforts eventually paid off and Lucien spotted a likely candidate venturing inside a building none of them had noticed—or if they had, they didn’t remember. Lucien had tagged the building with a small smear of his own blood, something Anya could track with her eyes closed.

  Now everyone was settled across the street from it, hidden inside a construction site and peering through thick wooden beams as workers bustled behind them. A few people had possessed the courage to ask them to leave. A rose-scented, mismatched-eyes-swirling hypno-suggestion from Lucien, and everyone had forgotten they were even here. Gideon could scream, and they wouldn’t even blink.

  Gideon wanted a power like that. Or maybe a super rage like Maddox, who could rip the world to shreds just because he was pissed. Maybe the ability to read people’s minds like Amun. Or to enjoy every cut, slash and injury inflicted upon him like Reyes. Or even to screw like a monkey like Paris. Or fly like Aeron. Or win everything like Strider. Or—he could name something he envied about every Lord of the Underworld. Even Cameo, the epitome of Misery. She could clear a room just by speaking. She could send grown men to their knees, sobbing like babies.

  What could Gideon do? He could lie, that’s what. And it sucked ass. (That was not a lie.) He couldn’t tell a woman she was pretty unless she was ugly. He couldn’t tell his friends he loved them. He had to tell them he hated them. He couldn’t tell Hunters they were shitbags. He had to tell them they were sweetie pies. Talk about a nightmare—which of course he’d have to call a dream come true.

  And yet, through it all, he couldn’t regret the fact that he was a demon-possessed warrior. He wore it like a badge of pride. He would have liked to act as if it disgusted him, which would have given him something in common with the others—all but Sabin and Strider, that is—but he never lied to himself.

  Sometimes he thought he was the only warrior who welcomed his curse. There was nothing wrong with having a demon inside you. Nothing wrong with enjoying it, being glad you weren’t alone—not that his demon ever spoke to him like the others’ spoke to them. No, his was more a…presence in the back of his mind. Nothing wrong with being happy you were more p
owerful. But damn it, would it have killed the gods to stick him with Rage or Nightmare? Okay, now Nightmare would have been freaking awesome. Having the ability to turn Hunters’ nightmares into reality would be the sweetest kind of heaven.

  Suddenly a pang of longing swept through him and he blinked in surprise. Longing? For what? The ability? Or the demon itself?

  Gideon waved the odd sensation aside. He didn’t know if Nightmare had even been inside the box—there was another pang.

  “We’ve been watching the place for over an hour, our guy has already left empty-handed and there’s been no other movement. I think it’s abandoned,” Anya said, and there was a rare trace of confusion in her tone. “But I’m sensing chaos. A freaking lot of chaos.” Chaos was the strongest source of her power, so if anyone would recognize it, it was this beautiful goddess.

  “Couldn’t possibly be witches and their spells,” Gideon said.

  Anya gasped. “Witches. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? I’ve had a run-in or two thousand with them over the years. Talk about abusers of power,” she grumbled. “Wonder how they’ll feel when I abuse mine and use their black hearts as our table’s new centerpiece.”

  “Perhaps I should ghost inside,” Lucien said. He would be invisible to those around him and could check things out without fear of being spotted.

  “No. We talked about this,” Anya said determinedly. She shook her head. Gideon stood on her right side, and felt the silky swish of her hair. “Something’s wonky with that building, and I don’t even want your spirit in it. And now that witches might be involved…hell, no.”

  Gideon adored women, and felt his skin heat at the brush of her hair. Last time he’d been with a woman had been mere hours after he’d returned from Egypt. The women of Buda knew, on some level, that he and the other Lords were different. They were considered “angels.” He hadn’t had to speak, just crook his finger, and this one had come running. But she wasn’t enough to soothe the ache inside him. They were never enough.

  “So let’s keep standing here, doing nothing,” he said. Which meant, let’s raid the place, guns blazing, and well his friends knew it. They were well-versed in Gideon Speak. They had to be.