Текст книги "The darkest seduction"

Автор книги: Gena Showalter

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Her arms fought his hold—oh, baby, he hadn’t let her go, had he?—but he kept a steady grip, her breasts thrust up, her nipples rubbing his chest, the friction sparking all different kinds of flames. Satisfaction, lust, clawing need, contentment. With his free hand, he cupped her chin.

“Look at me.” He slowed his thrusts.

Took a moment, but ultimately she obeyed. Those hazel eyes were fever-bright, glazed, her pupils utterly blown.

“You’re not done with me. Do you hear me? You are not done. You are mine.”

“I’m…” Another scream, her inner walls milking him, her hips lifting…lifting…even lifting his weight, sinking him deeper than should have been possible.

Sex shouted at the amazing pleasure.

And like that, Paris erupted, the orgasm churning in his spine, shooting through his sac, up his erection and into her, pumping his seed straight into her body. A white-hot jet, again and again. He came so hard he saw stars.

When he was at last emptied out, he opened his eyes to find Sienna had collapsed on the mattress and he had collapsed on top of her, was probably smashing her. He rolled to his side, but they were still connected so he took her with him. Her head just kind of lolled into the hollow of his neck.

There was a long period of silence as they caught their breath and their heartbeats slowed, but all the while he knew one fact to be true: he’d never experienced sex like that with anyone else and he never would again. Hell, he didn’t want to.

“I never had a temper before,” she murmured groggily.

He ran a hand up and down the ridges of her spine. “Well, you’ve got one now, that’s for sure.”

She bit his collarbone, a playful nip. He expected Sex to respond, but the demon had gone to sleep. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted to calm you down, and I did. Missionary accomplished.”

Another nip. “I meant, we shouldn’t have had angry sex.”

He said, “Couldn’t help myself. I liked your temper.”

“I could tell. Is there a position you don’t excel at, though? You’re giving me a complex.”

“If there is, will you help me practice until I do?”

“So many times you’ll lose respect for yourself.”

He laughed. He just couldn’t help himself. He was…happy. She was teasing him, as if they were friends. They werefriends. “I wasn’t going to sleep with the goddess,” he said. “I swear to you. Never will I sleep with that female.”

She placed a kiss just above his heart. “Don’t do that. Don’t promise things like that. Because even as jealous as I was, and yes, I’m freely admitting to a stalkerlike rage, I would rather you slept with a thousand like her than weaken and die.”

His chest got tight. Gently he pulled out of her sweet, sweet body, and they both moaned at the loss. He stripped her, stripped himself, then placed his gun on the nightstand beside the bed, and his blade under his pillow. Safety taken care of, he went right back to cuddling Sienna into his side. First, though, he gave her nipples a Daddy’s backkiss.

“We’re going to talk about that, and about what you were so upset about, because I know there’s more to it than the goddess,” he said. “In a few minutes. Right now, I want to say a few things, and then I want you to tell me something about you. I want to know you better.” In all ways.

They weren’t leaving this bed until he’d seen her brain naked, too, and that was that.

“O-kay.”

“Susan Dille,” he said. “I cared for her. I wanted something to work with her, but I was growing weak. Finally I caved and slept with someone else. I was miserable, she found out, and things only got worse from there. I don’t want that with you.”

“What makes me so different?” she whispered. “I mean, how can you be with me more than once?”

“I’ve wondered about that myself, and I think it’s because my desire for you is more powerful than my demon.”

“That’s… Oh, Paris. That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Good. Now it’s your turn for a confession. Start talking.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“I, WELL… HMM,” Sienna said.

“Come on, baby.” Paris combed his fingers through her hair. “Look past my terrible personality and hideous looks and throw me a bone. Teach me how to woo you properly.”

She snorted. “I’d argue the hideous looks part.”

“But not the terrible personality? Ouch. That hurts, baby.”

Her next snort was half-bathed in laughter. “Well, this won’t teach you anything but my stupidity. Once I tried to spray tan my freckles away and ended up looking like a diseased carrot.”

“I adore your freckles, and my favorite fantasy involves licking every single one of them. More secrets, though. I want more.” Was so hungry for them.

A heavy pause, and when she next spoke, she’d lost her air of playfulness. “The guy I was going to marry, well, I was going to have his baby, but halfway through—” a shudder rocked her “—well, I lost her. My baby girl. Afterward I just sort of broke down and my fiancée left. I was moved to a different division of the Hunters’ enterprise.”

“Oh, Sienna, oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”

Tears filled her eyes, quickly masked. “I recovered.”

No one ever recovered fully from that kind of loss.

“I never allow myself to think of her. That’s probably unhealthy, but…”

“But it’s how you survive. What did you name her?” He knew she’d given the little girl a name.

Another pause, then a hesitant, “Rebecca Skye.”

He remembered when she asked him if he even wanted to have kids. Had she ever wanted to have another? Probably. The loss would have left a wound inside her, one that would never fully heal. He knew that kind of loss well. But pregnancy wasn’t a possibility for the undead. Still, he wondered if adoption was. Perhaps she could take in one of the kids with unexplained abilities Anya had hidden around the world to save them from Hunters. Sienna would make an amazing mother, protective, loving, fierce.

“She’s in heaven, I think. Not Cronus’s heaven, or this heaven, or wherever we are, and not Zacharel’s heaven, either. I’ve never told anyone this, but when I died, I knew there was someplace wonderful to spend eternity, as well as someplace terrible. Maybe Cronus is my personal hell, my something terrible, but Rebecca is in that other place, that far better place, where someone far better than Cronus or Zacharel’s Deity rules. And now I want to talk about something else. Something light.”

Light. He could give her light, even though he had a thousand questions about this “better place” and this “better” ruler, and her suffering and her dreams. “I enjoy watching romantic comedies, action adventures, horror, whatever. Anything but subtitles. That artsy crap is lame.” He cupped the sweetest ass on the planet and found himself hard all over again.

“Tell me more.” With a voice full of rasp, she said, “I want to know about you, too.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” And he meant that.

“You and your friends…you’re really close.”

Those same friends would have told him she had a hankering for information so that she could use it against him. Paris knew better. “We were created together. We’re family.”

“Created?”

“Yeah. Zeus made us from the blood of his best warriors, steel, baser instincts, things like that.”

“So you have no mother or father?”

“Nope.”

“I’m sorry. Blood family isn’t always hearts and flowers, but there’s comfort there. I’m sorry you didn’t have that.”

“Just made me that much closer to my boys, but I did sometimes wonder what it would have been like. Then I’d think about what I did have, men who would die for me, and I would realize I’ve got everything I need.”

“Having someone who is willing to die for you is rare. And several someones? Awesome.”

“Yes. It is.”

“I’m glad you have that. It’s better than family.”

How wistful she sounded. “You don’t?”

“No. Never.”

And didn’t that just break his heart. I might die for her,he thought. Might throw myself in front of a sword for her.“Now I’m the one who’s sorry. I mean, you died for me, but I haven’t—” Oh, damn. Wrong words. He expected her to tense, waited for the mood to shatter.

She didn’t, it didn’t. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I? You arelucky.”

No animosity, just a kind amusement, a contemplative dreaming. There went his heart again, breaking into a few more pieces.

“When we met,” he said, “you claimed to be writing a romance novel. You even had pages. I remember how they scattered at your feet when I slammed into you. Was that true? Were they yours? Since waking up in that cell, I figured they were a lie, but now that I know you better, I’m thinking differently.”

“They were mine, yes. I love romance novels, and I did want to write one. Maybe I will one day. Not that there’s a publisher for the dead.”

“Well, you’ve already got a built-in audience of one. I want to read what you wrote, and what you will one day write. Promise?”

She licked her lips, her tongue caressing his skin, too, and oh, did he like that. “Have you, uh, ever fallen in love?” she asked, ignoring his demand.

Okay, all right. He’d let her lack of an answer about the novel slide. For now. “Once I thought I was, but it didn’t work out. And there were a few times, after I was with a woman, that I would wish for more and hang around. A few times I even dated a woman without sleeping with her, hoping for some type of relationship, but all along I’d have to sleep with others, so I’d feel guilty and then I’d just stop seeing her so that the guilt would fade.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not your fault.”

“Doesn’t help that Hunters threaten everyone you love.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you deal, having a group of people hunting you, hating you?”

“It’s not easy, I won’t lie. Sometimes we push ourselves over the edge. Drugs, alcohol, sex, whatever our particular vice is, but we go on and we look out for each other.” The warmth of her breath stroked over him, tantalizing him. “And lately we are Addams Family normal—you know, doing the hearts and flowers thing while navigating everything our enemies throw at us.”

Her nails dug into his chest. “The Hunters…more than half of the organization is brainwashed. We’re told over and over how evil you are, how you are responsible for everything bad that has ever happened to us, to everyone. How perfect our lives could be if you were gone. They show us pictures, horrible pictures of torture, disease and death, and they prey on our weaknesses. Like with my sister, telling me that little girls wouldn’t be kidnapped if there were no demons in the world.”

First she’d lost her sister, then her baby. He squeezed her tight. “I’m sorry for her loss.” For all the crap she’d endured throughout her too-short life. Crap he’d only added to. “I should have told you that when you first mentioned her, but…”

“But we had only just reconnected and didn’t trust each other.”

He kissed her temple. “We’ve always known the Hunters were studying us. Is that how you knew I was in Rome that day? How you knew the romance novel would distract me, and what drug to use on me?”

“I knew through Dean Stefano, my boss, and he knew through Galen. Galen, I’m sure, knew through Rhea, Cronus’s wife. Funny, but I never understood the chain of command until after my death.”

Paris couldn’t help himself and gave her temple another kiss. They were getting heavy again, and he didn’t mind that, wanted to travel that road with her, all roads with her, but she didn’t and he would honor her wishes.

“I’m going to switch gears for a minute, okay?”

Her relief was palpable as she said, “Please do.” One at a time, she plucked her nails from his skin.

“I know you’ve never been married, but other than the douche who left you have you ever…wanted to be?” He tried to ask it casually, as if the answer was no biggie, but he couldn’t keep the yearning from his tone.

Her reaction, when it came, was one of shock, and he wasn’t sure whether that was surprise-party good or you-just-hit-my-car bad. She jerked upright, that dark flood of hair draping one bare shoulder. Her eyes were still more green than brown and they dominated her pixie face. The lips he’d kissed until they were puffed and red were parted.

“I…I…”

Balls to the wall.He would finish this. “I want you to marry me,” he said. He wanted her tethered to him the same way he was tethered to her. Mentally, emotionally and physically.

“Paris…”

He threaded his fingers through her hair. “Don’t say anything right now. Just think about it.” Because, bottom line? No more talk of separating. They were staying together, and that was that. He wasn’t letting her go, and he sure as hell wasn’t cheating on her. No matter the cost to himself.

From now on, there was only one sheath for his sword. Would there be problems? Complications? Oh, yeah. Probably more than he was aware of, and he was aware of plenty. But he’d rather deal with those problems with herthan be without her and have smooth sailing.

“I have to tell you something,” she whispered, the defeat returning in an instant. “I lied. I won’t kill her, and he can manipulate me. Otherwise, the rest of you are dead, too, and I can’t allow that to happen.”

“Won’t kill who? Who can’t manipulate you? Tell me, and I’ll fix it.” I will slay her dragons.

“You can’t. Rhea, she…she… When my sister Skye was taken, we were swimming in the neighborhood pool. Mom told us never to go there alone, but I was fourteen and thought I could handle things, and Skye wanted to swim so badly. We were just supposed to walk to the park, but we went to the pool instead. It was so crowded that day, and I had to go to the bathroom, and when I came back out, she was being dragged away by a stranger. Everyone must have thought she was throwing a fit, because no one stopped them, and I couldn’t get to them.”

He opened his mouth to offer comfort, to tell her it wasn’t her fault, that even though she’d gone against her mother’s orders, she wasn’t the one who had abducted the little girl, but she wasn’t finished.

“Today I learned that all these years Skye has been alive. Until recently. She was murdered. Rhea murdered her. If I’d only found her earlier, but I didn’t, and now I have to live with the knowledge that she…that I…” She was rambling, the words spewing out as if they’d been trapped for a long time and were now tangling on her tongue as they fought for freedom.

He ached for her. As he’d never ached for anything, he ached for her, and he didn’t take the decision to slay her dragons lightly. He’d do what needed doing. “Go on, baby. Tell me the rest.”

A shudder moved through her. She inhaled forcefully. “Cronus told me that Skye was Galen’s prisoner, then he told me that he didn’t actually know where she was, thenhe showed me her lifeless, bloody body.”

Paris had known the bastard was low, but this…he had no words. His reckoning with Cronus needed to happen soon—with knives. No wonder Sienna had been so upset when she’d returned to the castle. “I’m so sorry, baby. If I could take away your pain, I would.” Finally he told her what he’d wanted to tell her. “This isn’t your fault. It was never your fault. You aren’t responsible for the things other people do. Never have been, never will be. This is their shame, not yours. But I know it hurts, I do, and however you want to handle it, I will help you.”

“He showed me because he expects me to spy on Galen and to…to be with him.”

Spots of black flashed over his eyes. “When you say be with Galen,do you mean be with him sexually?”

A shameful nod, and maybe even a bit resolved, as if she deserved nothing better.

“That you’d even consider it tells me that you want to punish yourself,” he said, comprehension a slap in the face. “For what you did to me, and what you think you allowed to happen to your sister.”

Her chin jutted stubbornly. “Maybe.”

“So, what else is it you did exactly, that some part of you thinks you need to be punished? Fought for a cause you believed in? Check. Slept with a man you were attracted to, despite everything else? Check. Saved him when you could have left him to a slow, torturous death? Check.”

Her hand balled into a (proper) fist. “I told you that I hated you as I lay dying.”

“Every couple says things they don’t mean when they’re fighting.”

“Well, I meant it at the time! And before that, I drugged you.”

“Yeah, and I planned to screw you and leave you like I’d done to a thousand others.” She flinched at his crudeness, but he kept going. “And guess what? At the time I was blithe about it. I loved women, and I protected them, but I still used them. In my mind, it was my right. I needed a wake-up call, and you gave it to me.”

“No, you—”

“Don’t make excuses for me. You’ve seen my past, and you know I’ve spoken true.”

She snapped her teeth at him. “So you’re saying you bear me no ill will? None at all?” A snort lacking any hint of amusement.

He fisted her hair a lot harder than he’d intended, but he didn’t loosen his grip. “Baby, I’m saying I adoreyou.”

Once again, she floundered for a response. The anger drained from her, and utter longing peered down at him. “Adore?” she squeaked.

“Your ears are working just fine.”

The harshness of his reply had her sighing dreamily, something that puzzled and aroused him. “I was wrong earlier. Thisis the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

And so I’ll be stepping up my game now.If that made her happy, his A-Game was gonna make her blissful. “Nothing to say in return?”

“Well, yeah. Cronus says that my being with Galen is the only way to keep you and your friends safe.”

Hell, no. When they’d lived in the heavens, Galen had been one of Paris’s go-to guys. They’d hung together, fought together. Paris had admired the guy’s emotional distance, his ability to do whatever was necessary to finish a job successfully. And okay, fine, they’d shared women, sometimes even at the same time.

He hadn’t cared then. He cared now. Not just because Galen was Enemy One, but because Sienna was his and his alone. She was staying with him.

“You’re not going back to Galen.” No way, not ever. Actually, Paris would die first. “And just a quick FYI. Apparently my friends plugged the keeper of Hope full of bullets earlier today. He’s no good to anyone right now.”

“But he’ll recover, I know he will, and then…then…” The rest of the story flooded from her. The Chamber of Futures, the portraits, the three possible outcomes for the world. For Cronus. For him.

Too much to digest at once, but still, nothing changed his mind about Sienna staying put.

“We have time,” he said. “We have time to figure this out, and we will. But you’re not going to him. You’re mine. Only mine. And I’m yours. I will never sleep with anyone else. Do you understand what I’m saying? Never. When I said you were it for me, I meant it. No one else, whether you’re with me or not. And Sienna, you will be with me.”

As he spoke, her mouth fell open, snapped closed. “Do notsay things like that.”

“Baby, I will do more than say it. I will blood oath it.” He reached for the daggers under the pillow, but she threw herself over his body and batted the weapon to the floor. Then, clearly suspecting he’d just reach for another weapon, she swiped her arm over the nightstand and sent the gun flying.

Now, there was the shocker of a lifetime. He wasn’t offended by her resistance, though. She wanted him safe, alive, thriving. Was even willing to sacrifice her happiness for his.

“Did you just challenge me?” he asked. They were flesh to flesh, male to female. Her wings spread, blocking out the rest of the room. She was all that he saw, all that he felt. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her nipples already beaded for him. Her core rubbed against his swollen length, and her legs splayed over his. “I think you just challenged me.”

“No. I did not.”

“You did. Quick fact—you mess with a man’s weapons, and you might as well knee him in the balls. You’ll get the same results. So I accept.” Moving so quickly she couldn’t possibly resist, he flipped her over, onto her back, spread her legs and shoved inside.

No preliminaries. Just straight-up, hard-core sex in the most basic fashion. She was wet, so very wet, so they had no problems.

“Paris!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s it. Take me all the way in.”

“Is this how you reward all challengers?” she asked between panting breaths.

“Only you.”

Her moan of pleasure filled the room, blending with his hiss of inexorable bliss. By the time he finished with her, she would know the man she belonged with—because there would be no part of her that he left untouched.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

GALEN APPEARED IN THE CENTER of the bedroom, and Legion shrank deeper into her shadowed corner. She’d been here for over an hour, having whisked herself to the coordinates he’d given her. She had no idea what the rest of the place looked like. Coward that she was, she hadn’t left the relative safety of the room. To her immense relief, no one had entered, either.

Though she’d been tempted, she hadn’t even explored the rest of the chamber. Gorgeous pile after gorgeous pile of shiny gold coins, glittering jewels and odd, ancient weapons abounded. Weapons she couldn’t use against her captor, so what was the point of studying them?

While Galen had worn white at the temple, he’d since donned a red robe. A drip, drip, drippingred robe. She frowned. A copper tang coated the air. That’s when she realized. Not a red robe, but a blood-soaked one.

His knees gave out and he fell, barely catching himself before a face-plant. His wings were tattered, and there were blade hilts and arrows protruding from his chest.

All that blood…

– hands grasping at her breasts, her thighs—

– teeth scraping over her skin—

– claws in her eyes, plucking them out—

– something hard between her legs—

– laughter, so much laughter—

—shackles on her wrists, her ankles—

Bile burned holes in her stomach and escaped, quickly spreading through the rest of her. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand, fighting tears. The memories of her time in hell never left her, but sometimes they completely overtook her, dragging her into a different sort of hell. One of humiliation, degradation, helplessness and horror.

“Fox!” Galen’s ragged shout rang out. “I need you.”

Legion must have whimpered at the sound of that shout, because Galen’s head whipped in her direction. His sky-blue eyes were rimmed with red, his cheeks streaked with dirt. Was he going to watch as “Fox” did things to her?

His expression softened. Only a little, but enough to stave off the encroaching hysteria. “You think I’m in bad condition, you should see the other guy.”

Tendrils of hope reached out, tried to wrap around her. Hope for something better. Hope for a future with the man in front of her. Panic infused her, after all, and she fought them with all of her mental strength. Finally the tendrils thinned, vanished.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she croaked.

He frowned at her.

Rushed footsteps beyond, and the door swung open. A tall, slender woman with jet-black hair and angular features flowed inside. She was attractive, in a regal way, with eyes like the differing temperatures of flames, an odd mix of blue and gold.

But there was a gray cast to her skin, bruises under her eyes, and though she gripped a gun in both hands, she was trembling. A quick scan, and she found Legion. Lifted one of the guns.

Yes,Legion thought, strangely comforted all of a sudden. Yes. An end. Finally.

“No!” Despite his injuries, Galen dove in front of her.

The girl—Fox?—had her finger off the trigger in a heartbeat, the weapon lowered.

Disappointment settled on Legion’s shoulders. Perhaps she should have ended herself long before now. Why hadn’t she? Suddenly she didn’t know, couldn’t remember.

“You don’t hurt her,” Galen said, menace a strong undercurrent. “Ever.”

Confusion joined the disappointment. He’d just…defended her.

Fox ran her tongue over her teeth. “She do this to you?”

“No. Now help me to the bed.”

As Fox sheathed her weapons, her gaze remained locked on Legion, narrowed and hate-filled. Even as she approached Galen, wound her arm around the warrior and eased him to his feet, she kept Legion in her sights. He leaned his weight into her, and they inched their way to the bed. Slowly, carefully, he sat at the edge of the mattress.

Were they lovers? Legion wondered.

Visibly weakening, now wheezing, Galen said, “Get your tools and get this shit out of me.”

With one last warning glare in Legion’s direction, Fox flew out the door.

“Will she obey you?” Legion asked softly. “About me?”

Sky-blue eyes found her, the lids heavy, casting his face into the come-to-bed sexy realm, and she hated herself for noticing. “Yes. The only person you need to worry about is me.”

So.He planned to save her torturing all for himself. And he would torture her. She had no doubt about that.

– something slicing between each of her ribs—

– rotted breath fanning her ear, trailing down her chest—

She wrapped her arms around her middle. Distract yourself.“Did the Lords do that to you?”

“Yes,” he repeated. “As promised, I let them go without hurting them back.”

“Th-thank you.” Worry for them was another constant in her life.

A long moment passed in silence, allowing her thoughts to once again careen out of control. Soon she was imagining what would happen to her once Galen healed. “Why do you hate them so much?” she asked, just to fill the void.

“I don’t hate them.” He balanced his elbows on his knees and his weight on his elbows. “I’m simply looking out for myself.”

“Why?”

“Who else will?” Then, “Enough about me. What happened to you in hell?”

The blood drained from her face, then the rest of her, leaving her cold and empty. “I can’t…talk about it, please don’t make me talk about it.”

He stared at her, different emotions washing over his face. Fury, regret, hope, jealousy, fury again.

Fox rushed back in, the black bag she held slamming into her thigh with a loud thump.Legion curled her knees into her chest, doing her best to become a smaller target, but Fox was through intimidating, her focus on Galen.

She crouched in front of him, set down the bag, and dug inside. After cutting away his robe, she whistled as she looked him over. “This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch.”

“Don’t care. Do what’s needed.”

As she worked, Legion kept her attention on the back of her head. Maybe because Galen kept his on her,still staring at her, trying to see past her skin and into her soul.

Fox was demon-possessed, she realized. Having grown up among the dark lords of hell, Legion sensed the evil inside her, could feel the ooze of her…distrust. Yes. That’s what she felt rubbing her nerve endings raw.

Distrust. A High Lord. The strongest of the strong, a leader of many minions. Legion was a minion of Strife, and the two demons had warred constantly, pitting their armies against each other. Distrust was no longer…right, though. The malice seeping from the girl’s pores was warped, almost frantic. No wonder her skin was grayish and her face bruised. She must have to fight the demon every hour of every day to remain sane herself.

“So, you want to tell me what happened?” Fox asked. “What’s going on?”

“No,” Galen replied tartly. “I don’t.”

“Do it anyway. You take off for Rome to deal with the Unspoken Ones and get the Cloak, and I don’t hear from you for weeks. I thought you were dead. Then suddenly you’re back, and you practically are dead.”

She’d removed everything that didn’t belong, and was now cleaning the blood from his chest. As the crimson was wiped away, she began to piece together the tattoos on his chest, stitching his skin in place. A butterfly over his left pectoral, and one over his right.

Two butterflies?

Legion’s gaze jolted up and clashed with his. He was still eyeing her through those narrowed lids, daring her to say something. She gulped, kept quiet.

“I got the Cloak, stole Maddox’s woman and traded her for this one.” He motioned to Legion with a tilt of his chin. “Hey! Can you at least pretend to be a woman and try for gentle?”

“Wuss. Why her?” Fox demanded, spreading some kind of paste over each of the wounds.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s mine, and she’s not going to hurt me. Are you, Legion?”

If only.She shook her head.

“Say it. Say the words.”

A tremor moved through her. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She couldn’t. Even if he chained her up and did…and did… Bile, spreading faster and faster…

“Because I’m commanding you to take care of me, and you have to obey me, don’t you.” Not a question.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Calm down, Gay Man,” Fox told him. “Your heartbeat is jacked up, and it’s causing you to bleed more heavily.”

“You know I hate when you call me that.”

He’d grumbled the admonishment, but he hadn’t struck at her, and that shocked Legion to the bone. He must really like the woman, she thought. And was that…could that be…jealousy swimming through her?

No way. Legion wanted nothing to do with Galen. Nothing! Hate him.For what he’d done to Aeron, to Ashlyn.

A short while later, Fox had him bandaged up and lying flat on the mattress. She tucked the covers around him and stood there, brushing his hair from his face until he fell asleep with a last shuddering command. “Don’t hurt her.”

That’s when Fox turned and leveled Legion with the evilest stare she’d ever seen—and she’d been chained to the devil himself a few times.

“Galen might think of you as his, little girl, but heis mine.And I protect, and avenge, what’s mine. You harm him in any way, and not even he will be able to stop me from harming you in kind.”

CHAPTER FORTY

CRONUS SEETHED WHEN he discovered his Lords had found his hiding place, the Realm of Blood and Shadows, where he kept Sienna and the three demon-possessed warriors he’d locked there. They’d invaded his private castle. All except for Torin, the keeper of Disease, who was back at the fortress in Budapest, having refused to let Lucien flash him. Too much risk, he’d said, even if he was draped from head to toe with protective gear.

One touch of Torin’s skin against his, and Lucien would be infected with the very disease running rampant in the other warrior’s veins. Torin put his friends before himself, always, an attitude Cronus did not understand or respect. But the thought reminded Cronus there was a way to work this situation to his favor.