The Darkest Kiss (15 page)

The moment it touched the sand, Lucien bellowed a roar and dropped to his knees. Her concern doubled. “Lucien. What's wrong?” He was immortal and couldn't be killed by normal means, but that didn't stop her from worrying. He could have been cursed. He could have—

He roared again and clutched his stomach.

“Lucien. Tell me what the hell is wrong!”

His eyelids were squeezed shut; panting, he slowly opened them. Both of his irises were suddenly blue. Otherworldly, crystalline, churning like a storm. He stood to shaky legs and pulled from her grip as if in a trance, walking forward, toward the temple's only remaining wall.

“I can see it,” he said.

Relief nearly felled her. He was having a vision. In the old days, when a sacrifice pleased the gods or even the temple itself, a reward was given. Anya thought perhaps the temple was pleased to be used again. “What do you see?” She had to force her arms to remain at her sides, so badly did she want to hold him.

“I might have found something,” he called, ignoring her.

All four of the warriors ran to him, swooping around columns like avenging angels. They spotted her and gaped. Her French maid costume was naughty and for Lucien's eyes only. Still, she didn't flash away to change. She didn't want to miss a moment of this.

The men didn't speak to her, though Paris did lick his lips in anticipation, as if she were a feast that had been prepared just for him. She rolled her eyes. Would have flipped him off, but thought he might try to take her up on the “offer.”

“Why are you bleeding?” Strider demanded, withdrawing a dagger. A feral scowl was directed at Anya. “And what the hell is she wearing?”

She flipped
him
off without any hesitation.

“The woman is not to be handled in any way,” Lucien said flatly, still focused on the wall. “She is mine.”

Mine,
he'd said. Smiling, she gave each Lord a taunting pinkie wave. “You hear that? I'm his, so you can all suck dirt.”

Lucien muttered, “And you had better keep your hands to yourself, Anya, or you will lose them.”

“Please. Like your buddies could best me,” she replied, unsure whether he heard or not. He gave no reaction.

As the Lords gathered around Lucien, she muscled right into their circle. And yeah, she pilfered a few daggers along the way. Gods, that felt good. She hadn't done enough of this lately, too consumed with Lucien. Stealing always soothed her riotous emotions, slowing her heartbeat and easing the seemingly constant ache in her stomach. The guys didn't realize what she'd done or they would have attacked her, she was sure. As it was, they let her through without comment.

What had Lucien found? What was he seeing?

Lucien splayed his arms, pushing everyone behind him and gazing at the wall once more.

“Lucien?” Strider said, clearly confused. Anya studied him out of the corner of her eye. He had blue eyes and blond hair, was tall and muscled, tanned. His features were roughly hewn, and he had a wicked sense of humor, which she normally preferred.

Why hadn't she been attracted to
him?

“What do you see?” Paris asked. Eagerness and excitement hummed through the group.

“Waiting is fun,” Gideon said, glaring.

“Do you recall what the two mortal researchers told us about Zeus and the artifacts?” Lucien asked.

A murmur of
yeses
arose.

“They were mostly correct. I'm looking at a mural that seems to be alive. The images are shifting, revealing detail after detail. After Zeus imprisoned the Titans, he commanded Hydra to hide and guard their treasured artifacts. Hydra split herself into four fearsome beings which scattered, each beast guarding one relic.”

“Oh, man,” Anya said. “If Hydra's the guard, you boys are in trouble. She's a whack job, for sure. Two heads on one snakelike body—make that eight heads on four bodies, if Lucien's vision is accurate—and all those heads suffer from constant PMS.”

“Each serpent was to hide for eternity, never revealing her location again, even to the gods,” Lucien continued.

Strider grunted. “How does this help us, then?”

Amateurs. “Do you see any symbols?” Anya prompted Lucien.

Pause. Frown. “Yes.”

“Well, what are they? Zeus might not have wanted the other gods to know their location, but he would have made damn sure he could at least be pointed in the right direction if he so desired. In his glory days, when he stole whatever he wanted from whichever god he happened to want it from—it's the one thing I ever admired about him—he would hide them until the heat died down by using vision-symbols as treasure maps. He spelled them to change if the item was somehow moved.”

Lucien didn't turn to her, but he did say, “You told us he told Cronus what had happened to them. You told us Cronus looked, but didn't find them.”

“Hello. Does that mean Zeus told the truth? They're enemies, remember? Just tell me about the symbols already!”

Lucien pressed his gorgeous lips together, refusing to answer.

“Fine. Don't tell me. I'll just leave the area and give you a chance to tell your boys. I totally will
not
remain here, invisible and eavesdropping.” She grinned at him, waiting.

He growled low in his throat.

“Seriously, you know I'll find out eventually so stop wasting time. Besides, I'll save you a lot of steps trying to figure it out on your own. You need my help. Again. Admit it.”

“Fine. We need your help.” He worried two fingers over his jaw, the picture of pique. “The first symbol has two lines edging down with a curved line weaving them together.”

“South Africa,” she said without hesitation.

“How do you know that?” Paris said, looking more strained than before. He'd sidled next to her and now pinched her butt.

She slapped his hand and stepped away. “I'm smarter than you,” she told him smugly. “That's how I know.”

Paris gripped her wrist almost desperately. What he meant to do with her she wasn't sure. He'd—Lucien moved between them, ripping them apart.

Lucien was snarling at the warrior.

“Fine.” Paris sighed and backed away. “I get the message. No touchie.” He stopped, looked down at his waist. “Shit! My blade is gone.”

The other Lords looked from Lucien to her, from her to Lucien, as if needing direction.

“What?” she finally demanded. “You think I took it?”

“Mine is missing, too,” Strider said with a grin, “but you can keep it. Think of me when you use it.”

The grin surprised her, and she found herself smiling in return. Until Lucien snarled at him, too. She rolled her eyes, though she was secretly pleased.

“Get back to work, big boy,” she said. “I know how you hate distractions.”

Thankfully, the snarling ceased. “The second symbol,” Lucien said, once again drawing everyone's attention to the wall, “is a single, jagged line.”

“That's the Arctic. Ah,” she added, placing her hand over her heart. “Those icy climes are bound to bring back memories of our first date. The one where you took a nice, refreshing dip and I watched from the glacier. Remember?” She didn't give him a chance to respond. “Maybe this is a sign we're meant to be BF's forever and ever. Is this a great moment for a huggsie, do you think?”

His lips pulled taut. “The third is a horizontal, curved line with a similar line growing out of it.”

She'd take that for a no. “That's the States.”

“The last is a straight line that curves at the bottom, almost like the end of a machete.”

“Egypt,” she said. Then she grinned and clapped her hands. “You know what this means, don't you? More traveling, and more treasure hunting! Where are we going first? Huh, huh, huh?”

“How do you know those locations?” Lucien asked, repeating Paris's question as he finally faced her. His eyes were still shrouded in that otherworldly blue.

“Maybe Zeus went around telling everyone about them and what they meant.”

“How do you know?” he insisted.

Her mother had been Zeus's lover at the time and had overheard a little state business, but that little gem wasn't something she liked to shout from the rooftops. “I told you. I'm smart.”

“And how do
we
know we can trust you?” Paris asked, hands on his hips.

“Duh. You totally can't. But you need me, so I guess that plants you right between a rock and a very naughty hard place.”

Lucien grabbed her arm and squeezed, forcing her to face him. “You are not going with us, Anya. Remove the thought from your mind now.”

Oh, really? “Try and stop me. I dare you.”

“You know I can. Stop you, that is.”

She arched a brow, her confidence unshaken. “Do I? I'm still standing here, alive and well, aren't I?”

Was it her imagination, or did steam rise from his nostrils, smelling of hellsmoke? Just then, he was like her own personal demonic dragon. Sweet! She could practically see the wheels turning frantically in his head as he tried to calm himself down. He was beyond sexy when he was on edge. “Admit it. You wouldn't have known what the symbols meant without me. You need me.”

“You could be lying,” he said, once again echoing Paris's suspicions.

“Waste time researching, then. What do I care? I can find the Hydras while you sit at a computer. I'll gather the artifacts
and
locate the box, and I'll do it before you and your Testosterone Squad have even booked a flight.”

All four warriors growled at her.

“What? Touchy subject?” she asked them, all innocence.

“We're splitting up,” Lucien said, not looking away from Anya. “Paris, you and Gideon will travel to the States.”

Paris glowered up at the sky. “Ah, man. Why am I stuck with Lies?”

“Biggest land mass, most people. It will be better to have two warriors searching there,” he explained. “Strider, you will go to South Africa. Amun, to Egypt.” He stared over at Anya. “I will head to the Arctic.”

“You might want to wear a coat,” Anya suggested helpfully.

Lucien's eyes narrowed. She barely resisted the urge to blow him a kiss.

“I'll ring Sabin's cell,” Strider said, “and tell him what we've found. Who knows? Maybe he'll discover something more at the Roman temple.”

“Do you know anything about that location, Anya?” Lucien asked.

“Only that it was called the Temple of the Unspoken Ones.”

“Unspoken Ones? I've heard of them,” Gideon said.

Which of course meant that he hadn't. Just thinking about the temple caused her to shudder. “Parents used to threaten their unruly children with banishment to that doomed place. Maybe because screams could always be heard echoing from the walls.”

“Who are the Unspoken Ones?”

“I never saw them. I kept my distance. And as the name proclaims, they were rarely spoken about outside of the occasional parental threat.”

Lucien sighed. “Call Sabin if you wish,” he said to Strider, “but I plan to flash to Rome and tell him in person. I'll scout the temple while I'm there. My blood acted as a catalyst here. Perhaps it will there, as well.”

Hope filled the air. They were closer to success than ever before, she knew.

“Where should we begin looking when we reach our destinations?” Paris asked. “Right now, all I know is that I'm supposed to go to the States. As you said, that's a big damn place. With lots of women,” he added as an afterthought. His lips lifted in a slow smile, the strain on his face seeming to ease at just the prospect of fresh meat.

“Where should they look?” Lucien demanded of Anya.

Again, everyone turned to her.

They wanted her help, then they didn't, then they wanted it again. “What? I'm just a dumb, annoying minor goddess. Not needed. Not wanted. Not—”

“You can go with me,” Lucien snapped.

Ah, such enthusiasm. Irritated, she ran her tongue over her teeth. Still, his demands and growls were better than all those weeks of implacable composure. Huh. Maybe she should push him a little more. “Sorry. What'd you say?” She cupped a hand over her ear. “I couldn't hear you.”

“You can go with me,” he repeated loudly. Darkly.

Now she crossed her arms over her chest.
Keep pushing like this, and he just might jump you.
Please, please, please.

“Are you going to try to kill me?”

“You know I must, but I will give you fair warning before I do.”

She hadn't wanted him to stop, anyway. “Fair enough.” Could this day have gone any better? Soon she would be traveling alone with him, probably fighting with him. The prospect shouldn't have thrilled her, but it did. She wanted a chance to nurture the desire she'd seen in him earlier, dangerous though that was. “I accept.”