Gena Showalter - [Lords of the Underworld 13] (29 page)

It was a chance he’d have to take.

“Uh, yeah,” William said. “Hello. I’m smart like that.”

“The ring shows me when an enemy is near.”

“What?” Electric blues narrowed to tiny slits. “Give it back.”

Kane ignored him, saying, “I’ll take care of the Rainbow Rejects. Lucien, you’ll take care of Tink.”

“What about me?” Anya demanded.

“You get to cheer us on.” Lucien would never forgive him if something happened to his precious.

“Hold up,” William said. “If I know my boys, and I do, they’ve bound your Tinker Hell with special chains. Lucien won’t be able to cut her loose, and if he can’t cut her loose, he can’t flash her. He’ll need a key.”

A complication, but not one that was insurmountable. “Do you have a key?”

“I do.” William offered no more.

Kane massaged the back of his neck. “Get the key and I’ll give you the ring.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. This is gonna take me a while, so I’ll see you when I see you.” A grinning William vanished.

Kane wasn’t waiting
a while
. Not here. Not with Tink so close. “New plan. You two stay here until William gets back, then swoop in and grab Tink. I’ll get the Rainbow Rejects out of the area.”

He didn’t wait for their reply. And he wasn’t going to waste time climbing. His sense of urgency rising, he stood and jumped, falling down...down...down and landing on his feet. Impact split the bones in his shins, but he didn’t care, his adrenaline too high to let him feel such pain. A scowl marred his features as he straightened.

The boys glanced up. The moment they spotted him, they leaped to their feet. But they didn’t run.

“Must admit, I expected you sooner,” Red said, unfazed.

“This is our territory,” Black said. “You should have stayed away.”

Green rubbed his hands together with glee.

“Tink is mine, and I will never share her.”

Kane and the Rainbow Rejects launched toward each other, meeting in the middle. A black mist instantly puffed around them, locking the four of them in a circle of menace. He’d expected it, and was ready to go with a dagger and an ax, hacking at his opponents. The males arched to elude impact, then, as they straightened, slashed at him with their growing claws. Maybe they made contact. Maybe they didn’t. Still he felt only the fiery edges of his rage and determination.

He looked at Red, smiled—but launched the ax at Black.

Black wasn’t prepared, and had no time to react. The metal embedded in his throat, severing his windpipe. He hit the ground, and stayed down.

Red roared, a testament to his rage. Green bared his teeth in a fearsome scowl filled with fangs. Kane palmed a second dagger, and attacked with more vigor. He remained in constant motion, slashing, ducking, slashing again, cutting the pair to ribbons.

“Kill you,” Red snarled, going low and knocking Kane’s ankles together.

He hit the ground, but rolled back to a stand before either male could pin him.

Silent, he stalked forward and hit at them with renewed strength, driving the pair backward. But Green worked his way behind him, and struck, probably drilling a hole in the back of his skull with the slam of his fist.

Kane nearly blacked out, but didn’t let it slow him. He went low, spinning, kicking out his leg, knocking Green down...rising, nailing Red in the shoulder.

The warriors quickly recovered, swiping at him. He had to crisscross his arms again and again, his body arcing one way then the other, to avoid being pummeled and land other blows.

Realizing this was getting them nowhere, he allowed Red to hit him, because he couldn’t sidestep it
and
strike at Green. He pounded his fist into Green’s chest, sending the warrior stumbling back. Kane followed. The moment Green righted, Kane performed a hard jab to his jaw, followed by a second kick. This time, the dazed warrior fell. Kane was there when he landed, twisting his neck—breaking his spine.

Green stayed down, too.

Red jumped on Kane’s back, wrapped his arms around his neck, and tried to do the same to him, exactly as Kane had hoped. He rolled into the movement and ended up face-to-face with the guy, as if they were hugging. He wasted no time sinking a dagger into Red’s side, straight into a kidney.

Grunting, the warrior stumbled away from him. Kane threw the second dagger and cut into the male’s thigh, forcing him to his knees. Then, determined to end this once and for all, Kane kicked him in the face, breaking his nose and sending him flying back. He grabbed two more daggers, and, when Red rolled over to push upright, shoved the blades into his shoulders, pinning him down.

Disaster shrieked inside his head, and a second later, a rock fell from the cliff and careened toward Kane. He darted out of the way a split second before contact. Red wasn’t so lucky.

The black mist melted away as Kane stood. He felt...ragged, desperate, as he stumbled forward, searching the area, wishing he were anywhere but here, his panic returning now that the fighting was done. He needed to leave. Had to leave. Now. Where was Tink? He needed to grab her and get her out of this hellhole. First, though, he probably needed to breathe. Why couldn’t he breathe?

As he patted at his throat, finding no external obstruction, he spotted Lucien, Anya, William and
Tink
sitting in front of the fire. He stopped. Tink’s black hair was brushed to a glossy shine, her skin scrubbed clean, and her clothes in perfect condition. She was safe. Relief and joy intermingled, a potent combination that managed to chase away the worst of his panic, opening his lungs and allowing him to suck in a measure of oxygen.

William eyed his boys, who were still lying on the ground. “They’re not dead. Only a beheading will kill them.”

Kane moved forward, intending to deliver the final blow.

“Don’t,” William said, stopping him. “I’ve changed my mind. They’ve learned their lesson. They’ll never approach your woman again. I’ll make sure of it.”

Very well. Kane didn’t need to see them dead—he just needed the reassurance that his
mine
was safe from them.

He faced Tink.

She stood, wiping her hands against her thighs. Nervous? Or frightened of him? He was covered in blood, after all.

“Kane,” she said.

He took a step toward her. “You’re free. That was fast.”

William shifted. “Yeah, so, I was mistaken about the chain and key. Anya got her out. Go figure.”

“She was bound by rope, nothing more, and I somehow managed to cut her loose,” Anya said drily. “Imagine my surprise.”

William had tried to trick him, just to gain possession of the ring. Kane wanted to care. He didn’t care. His gaze remained locked with Tink’s. She approached him. A second later, they were running at each other. She threw herself in his arms, and he spun her around.

“Told you I’d be here by morning,” he whispered.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome.” Now, he could get her out of here. Couldn’t tolerate another minute inside these jagged walls. “We need to—”

“Disaster,” a female screeched in the distance. “Disaster is here!”

“Where? Where is he? I must have him!”

Every muscle Kane possessed knotted. The minions had sensed him. The minions...the minions who had...had...NO! Sickness returned to his stomach, churning viciously. The females wanted to bind him and cut away his clothing. They wanted to touch him and taste him and steal his seed.

They’ll have you,
Disaster said with a laugh.
Over and over again.

Going to vomit.

“And now it’s time to bail.” William unsheathed a Sig Sauer from the waist of his pants. “I can only flash myself. Lucien, you take care of the others.”

Lucien nodded and flashed a protesting Anya to safety. He reappeared a few seconds later, grabbed a now trembling Kane and Tink, and flashed them away, too. The last thing Kane saw was William running forward, grinning with delight. And when he next blinked, he was standing inside the walls of the fortress he’d never thought to revisit, once again barely able to breathe.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The Realm of Blood and Shadows

J
OSEPHINA
TOOK
IN
as much of the fortress as possible as Kane dragged her down a hall and up a flight of stairs. “I almost can’t believe I’m in your home. I mean, I’m
actually
in your home. I’m living every Fae woman’s dream.”

The portraits on the walls caught her attention. Each contained a Lord of the Underworld in the buff, his manhood shielded by something feminine. A ribbon. A teddy bear. A scrap of lace. Then there were the portraits of the delicate blonde, the epitome of what Fae males found attractive. In one, she wore a ball gown. In another, a negligee. In yet another, black leather.

“She’s pretty,” Josephina said, trying not to compare herself to the beauty. “Does she belong to one of your friends?”

“No.”

The sharpness of his tone startled her. She studied the stiffness of his back, the jerkiness of his stride. “Kane? Is everything all right?”

He ignored her. He even ignored the people they passed.

“Kane, is that really you?” said a male with black hair and violet eyes. Josephina recognized the infamous keeper of Violence. He was close enough to touch.

A baby girl was cradled in his arms. Oh, sweet mercy, he had a child? Why had the scribes not delivered such a juicy tidbit?

Silent, Kane dragged her past the pair.

“So wonderful to meet you,” she called. “I’m Josephina, and I absolutely love—”

Kane jerked her around the corner.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were on your honeymoon,” said Strider, coming out of a bedroom.

“So lovely to see you again,” Josephina called.

A petite redheaded lovely moved to his side, and she elbowed him in the stomach.

“What’d I do now, baby doll?” Strider asked with a grimace.

“Honeymoon?” the redhead said with a stomp of her foot. “He got married and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Hey, Paris and Torin wouldn’t happen to be here, would they?” Josephina asked Strider. “I might die of a heart attack, but it would be worth it—”

Kane pulled her in front of him, and slapped his hand over her mouth. “That’s enough out of you.”

He stopped her in front of a door. A bedroom, she realized when he got her inside. He released her and shut them both in. Awed, she drank in every nook and cranny. The chamber was spacious, with distressed walls of stone and a cracked marble floor. The furniture was antique, worn but chic. There were no pictures, though, no personal touches of any kind.

“I need to—” Kane scrubbed a hand down his face. “I...need to go,” he said, his gaze anywhere but on her.

She spun to face him. “You’re leaving me?”

“I’ll be back,” he rushed to add. “And I’ll introduce you to everyone. I’ll give you a tour. Whatever you want.”

“I want...you.”

She was no longer the passive girl he’d first met. She’d been through too much, had survived too much.
They’d
survived. She’d decided to stand up for her rights, and that hadn’t changed. She would fight for what she wanted, would even fight Kane himself. “What’s going on, Kane? What’s wrong with you? Tell me. Don’t push me aside. Not this time.”

“My head’s messed up,” he said in a tortured voice. “The weeks in hell...the demons...”

“I’m so sorry. I should have realized.” She closed the distance between them, placed her palms on his chest. His heart drummed fast and erratic. Being there had reminded him of all he’d endured, and yet still he’d come for her. Such a precious man.
My man.
“Let me help you. Please.”

“I... Yes. Okay.” He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her across the mattress, then snuggled up beside her.

“Talk to me. Purge the poison.”

A moment passed. Then another.

Then, “I don’t know if you know this,” he said quietly, “but it’s possible for a woman to arouse a man’s body, even if he doesn’t want the woman herself. That’s how, when I was trapped in hell, countless minions were able to...do things to me. It was far worse than I led you to believe. It was one female after another, their hands and mouths everywhere, as they tried to steal my seed. They wanted to have my babies, and I was rarely left alone. All the while, Disaster laughed. He’s laughing now. He loves every second of my pain and humiliation.”

“Oh, Kane.” Her poor, poor Kane. “It’s not your humiliation, darling. It’s Disaster’s. It’s the minions’. They alone carry the shame.”

“I could have fought harder.”

“Could you really?” she asked. “When you’re already stronger than any man I know?”

“I’m not,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Yes, you are, and today proves it. Despite everything you endured, you still came back for me.”

Against her cheek, she felt his heart skip a beat. “I did, didn’t I? But...when I heard the demons closing in, I felt sick and cowardly. I should have faced them. I should have destroyed them. And one day I will. But today, I only wanted to flee.”

And it had embarrassed his warrior soul, she realized. “Oh, Kane. Cowardliness has nothing to do with feeling, and everything to do with action. You acted
despite
everything. You are brave and valiant and worthy, and you had more to think about than vengeance. You had a woman you were trying to protect. You knew what the minions were capable of, and I bet you wanted me as far away from them as you could get me. Am I right?”

Only the slightest hesitation before he admitted, “Yes.” Then he rolled onto his side and buried his head into the hollow of her neck. Something warm dripped onto her skin. A...tear? His arms wrapped around her and held on tight, and another droplet splashed, and then another and another. Soon, Kane was sobbing, great, gut-wrenching sobs, tremors racking his entire body.

Her heart breaking for him, Josephina cooed at him and ran her fingers through the silk of his hair. How long had these tears been trapped inside? How long had his inner wounds festered?

A few moments after he quieted, he rolled to the side, removing his weight from her, and sagged against the mattress. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

“Why?”

“I just acted like a wom—uh, a child.”

“Tears aren’t childish, silly. And they’re not reserved for women, thank you very much. You were wronged, you were hurt and you suffered greatly. You’re allowed to react.”

His fingers dusted along the line of her jaw. “Your wisdom humbles me.”

“I
am
amazingly smart.”

He chuckled, only to go quiet a second later. “They didn’t succeed, you know. I didn’t leave any of the minions pregnant.”

She was glad. He wouldn’t have survived that kind of connection to the Underworld.

Josephina sat up without ever breaking contact, and peered down at him. Whatever she’d meant to say was superseded by, “No fair. When I cry, I look like a hag who’s just left a boxing match. You look as beautiful as always.”

He offered her a slow, lazy smile. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“I think I’ve told you I consider you the incarnation of beautiful.” She tugged his shirt over his head.

“No, you told me I’m sexy. There’s a difference. And not that I’m complaining, but...what are you doing?”

“Remember when I told you I wanted to smother all your bad memories with good? Well, we’re starting today. Now.” His boots were the next to go, followed by his pants and underwear, leaving him totally and completely naked.

Josephina perused him unabashedly. Actually,
beautiful
and
sexy
were words too mild for him. He had muscle stacked upon muscle, and flawless bronze skin, all topped off by the butterfly tattoo on his hip.

She traced the jagged edges of the wings. “The artwork catches my attention every time.”

“Evil sometimes comes in a very pretty package.”

Very true. “You want to be rid of it. Of him.”

“More than anything.”

“Then we’ll find a way to make it happen.” She pressed her lips against his, feeding him a soft, sweet kiss. “Together, we can do anything. Now, grip the headboard.”

“Tink...” he said.

“I won’t do anything you don’t like. I promise.”

“Whatever you do, trust me, I’ll like.”

Trembling, he stretched out his arms and did as she’d commanded, and when she next kissed him, he accepted her without reservation, meeting her thrust for gentle thrust, before pressing more firmly, taking more deeply, changing the tone of the kiss. There was passion, yes. There was always passion between them. But he also kissed her with something more heady than reverence, as if she were the most important part of his life. As if he would want and need her always. As if he couldn’t bear the thought of ever being without her.

Josephina took her time tasting and laving every inch of his body, learning how to please him as he offered instructions, telling her what he liked, and she obeyed, worshipping him, watching his face for any sign of uncertainty or distress. He never flinched or paled. He appeared undone. He appeared on edge with the force of his desire.

“I’m about to...Tink, you have to stop. I want to touch you, do things to you,” he croaked. “Want to have you.”

Not just want but needed, she realized. Before, he’d been bound, had lost all sense of control. He might never be able to fully relinquish power to her, and that was okay. She loved the way he mastered her body.

“I’m yours,” she said, “to do with as you please.”

He had a condom on in the next instant, and her waist gripped in the one after that. He lifted her, and filled her, and all she could do was dig her nails into his chest and hang on for the wildest ride of her life.

He was untamed, undisciplined. He was savage. He was also brutally sweet. Because, as much as he took, he gave back even more, touching her in all the right places, driving her need higher and higher. And when the pleasure hit its peak, she could only throw back her head, the tips of her hair brushing against his groin. He roared, arching his hips, surging that much deeper, propelling her to a whole new level of satisfaction.

Panting, she collapsed on his chest. His arms wrapped around her and held tightly.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he said, kissing her sweat-damp temple.

“Never,” she vowed.

“It’s wrong of me, I know it is, but I need you to stay with me.”

“Wrong of you how?”

He cleared his throat. “I...know a way.”

It took her a moment to realize he’d returned to their earlier conversation. “The starving thing?”

He nodded. “Things might get rocky for a while, and you’d probably be better off without me, but—”

Ah. That’s what he’d meant about asking her to stay being wrong of him. “I’m not going anywhere without you,” she said.

He closed his eyes, as if savoring her words. “No, you’re not going anywhere without me.”

* * *

K
ANE
LEANED
AGAINST
the door frame and grinned as he watched Tink interact with the other women in the fortress. He’d introduced her to everyone just this morning, and she was already a part of the family.

She’d only asked for three autographs.

Everyone had been so busy hunting details about the Paring Rod, and what could have happened to Cameo and Viola, they’d forgotten to rest or eat. They’d needed a break, a distraction, and Tink was now providing both.

The women loved Tink and fawned over her, and sure, that could be because he’d threatened to murder anyone who hurt her feelings, but he didn’t think so. There was something so welcoming about her. She smiled, and amusement lit her entire face. She spoke, and the wisdom of multiple lifetimes poured from her lips. She included everyone in her conversation, and showed no partiality. They were all special to her.

“Tell us more about life in the Fae palace,” Ashlyn said while rocking her daughter to sleep.

He should leave. He had to talk to his friends about his deal with Taliyah—and they would probably want to wipe the floor with his face for offering up their fortress. It would be best to get that out of the way while Tink was distracted. He turned to walk away.

“Well,” Tink said. “I’m now the most envied woman in the land. I married the famed keeper of Disaster.”

He heard the pride in her voice, and couldn’t help but turn back to her. He saw it in her eyes, too, and his heart soared. His friends could wait.

Anya bounced Urban up and down and patted him on the back, struggling to get him to burp. “I want to hear more about Kane beating up your lecherous half brother. I bet that rocked your panties off! It would have mine, if I ever wore any.”

Haidee, Amun’s wife, shook her head; a mix of blond and pink hair danced over her shoulders. “You have to forgive her. She’s just a little crazy in the head.”

“Uh, try a lot crazy in the head,” Anya retorted, as if she were complimenting herself. In her mind, she probably was. “I should have been committed centuries ago. Oh, wait. I was!”

“Stop talking, Anarchy. Josephina was just about to tell us if Kane’s as much of an animal in bed as I think.” Gwen, Sabin’s wife, waved to Tink, a silent command to continue.

“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t going to talk about that,” Tink said, taken aback.

“Oh, yes, you totally were. And while you’re at it,” said Kaia, Strider’s consort, “I’m going to give you one of my galaxies’ famous makeovers. Strider told me your family treated you like a servant and I firmly believe the best way to get revenge—besides killing the stupid jerks with a blade...or a hammer...or a saw—is to kill the stupid jerks with jealousy.”

Sienna, Paris’s wife, snapped her fingers and a rack of dresses and a vanity piled high with makeup appeared. “Ta da! Let the makeover begin.”

“Neat trick,” Tink said, clapping.

Gilly, William’s teenage charge, leaned toward Tink, her expression earnest. “I hear you spent some time with William. Did you happen to notice the kind of women he...you know?”

“My poor ears,” Anya said. “They do not need to hear about Willy you-knowing.”

“You guys are weird,” Scarlet said. “I should kill you all in your sleep. That way, I’d stop stressing about missing friends—because I wouldn’t have any friends. It would be win/win.” She was the keeper of Nightmares, the wife of Gideon, and there was no one scarier. Most people ran from her at the first opportunity.