The Darkest Kiss (22 page)

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 camera 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!”

“I
WANT THE
A
LL-
K
EY
, A
NYA
.”

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.

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.”

“Listen, you're not the only one with problems. I'm hunted on a daily basis, remember? Giving up the key means losing my strength, my abilities, my memories—perhaps even my freedom. If I'm ever locked away again, I won't be able to escape.”

“I have offered you my protection in the past. You have always turned me down.”

“And I will continue to do so.” He could change his mind. He could demand further payment from her to continue protecting her. He could forget about her.

“Tell me what you want, then, and it is yours. Things do not have to end badly for you.”

“There's nothing I want.” Things were perfect for her right now. No one could bind her, and no one could kill her without severe consequences. She had a kind-of boyfriend who rocked her world, even if they couldn't seal the deal. Why give any of that up?

Besides, anything she wanted she could procure on her own. And she
did
have a plan for getting Cronus off her trail. Those artifacts the Lords were searching for. Cronus wanted them back. They were a source of his power, and as she well knew, Cronus loved him some power.

Once she had them—and used them to find Pandora's box—she'd trade them for that vow of protection. Even from him. For herself, for Lucien. Best of all, she'd still have the key.

She studied her nails. “Mind if I take off now? This conversation is boring and I have places to go, yada, yada, yada.”

Cronus's eyes narrowed. “One day in the near future I will know what it takes to humble you. I will know what it takes to crush you. And when I do, you will wish you had given the key to me this day.”

He disappeared in a melodramatic flash of blinding blue light. Anya stumbled forward, knees suddenly going weak. She scrubbed a hand down her face, feeling the first tremors of anxiety. Antagonizing the king of gods had not been smart, but it was not in her nature to cower or obey.

I will know what it takes to crush you,
he'd said, and she believed him. All Cronus had to do was threaten to destroy Lucien, and she feared she would give him anything. Maybe even the key. She couldn't let Cronus know how much Lucien was coming to mean to her, that her days and nights were filled with thoughts of him.

Cronus had to suspect, at least a little, she realized. Why else offer her Lucien's eternal affections?

Shit,
she thought. She'd have to do something to throw the big cheese off. Would ignoring Lucien, painful as it sounded, do the trick? Or would Cronus see the longing on her face, the torment in her eyes? Hell, would she even be able to stay away from Lucien? She hadn't managed the feat yet.

Wouldn't be wise to keep her distance, she decided. She would find the artifacts faster working
with
him rather than against him. Relief and need trembled through her.
I get to be with him again.

Yeah, you get to be with him, but you can't let Cronus see how much you care.

She frowned, relief fading. Did that mean there could be no more physical pleasure?

The answer proved grim. Kissing would be fine because she'd kissed others. But anything else would merely prove how special Lucien was to her. Her shoulders sagged.
I'll have to be my usual flippant self and keep things light.
No more touching, no more skin-to-skin contact.

“Fucking Cronus,” she grumbled to cover her sudden tears.

 

L
UCIEN HAD WORKED HIMSELF
into a fit of rage.

It had happened only once before, a prolonged fury that lasted several days after Mariah's death, and he'd vowed never to let it happen again. The destruction had been too great. But as he'd watched Anya with Cronus, he'd been unable to stop himself from slipping into the dark throes of fury.

Now red glowed behind his eyes; a cold sweat slicked his skin. Death roared like a banshee inside his mind. His breath was so hot it was like fire as it pushed from his nose. He was more demon than man, darkness clouding his every thought.

He'd already hacked the bed to bits, freeing the chain from the headboard but not from himself. After that, he'd blazed a path of destruction through the entire house. Because the chain was still attached to his wrist, he couldn't dematerialize. Didn't matter, though. He was too busy seething. Too busy imagining death and blood and killing. Had one of the other warriors walked into the room just then, he would have attacked. Would have been unable to stop himself. And wouldn't have cared.

Cronus could have killed Anya, and there would have been no way for Lucien to aid her. He hadn't been able to help Mariah, and the guilt had tormented him ever since. Anya, though…He roared, loud and long.

“Uh, you wanna explain this?” a woman asked when he quieted.

Hearing the voice, he wheeled around with a snarl. He saw the outline of a lithe female form. Pale hair. Delicate shoulders. He clutched a sword in his hand.
Kill, kill, kill.

Scowling, he stomped toward her.

She backed away. “Lucien?”

Lifting the sword high above his head, he gave it a menacing twirl.
KILL.
The tip flew down, aiming for the woman's neck. She must have moved because the sword hit the floor rather than flesh. He hissed.