The Darkest Lie

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THAT BITCH! was the first thought to hit Scarlet as she awoke. Fuming, she bolted upright. Rhea had finally whisked her out of Budapest and into the heavens. Where she'd seen her naked mother straddling her naked boyfriend. Then Rhea had tossed her somewhere sunny. Where, Scarlet didn't know. All she'd known was that the abrupt switch from dark to light had utterly confused her demon. Unlike the ambrosia field, time did exist between the two locations.

She'd gotten the barest glimpse of speeding cars and towering buildings before her eyes had shut of their own accord and her mind had sunk into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

Now she was in a freaking hospital, she realized as her gaze circled her surroundings. She must have passed out on a busy sidewalk, no one had been able to revive her, and so they'd taken her in for medical care. Shit!

A heart monitor beeped beside her. Electrodes were attached to her chest, and an IV protruded from her arm. The medical staff had replaced her clothes with a paper-thin gown and removed her weapons. Local police would most likely come around to talk to her about that, too, and damn it, she didn't need that right now.

Damn it, she thought again. Motions clipped, she jerked out the needle, blood seeping from inside her elbow, and ripped away the cords. The monitor went crazy, shouting loud and long as she threw her legs over the side of the gurney.

Footsteps pounded, and then a short, plump female was rounding the corner and flying into Scarlet's room. When she spotted Scarlet sitting up, about to stand, the tension left her features, but she extended her arms to push Scarlet back down.

"Ma'am, ma'am, you need to be careful." She spoke in English, no hint of an accent. I'm in the States, Scarlet realized. "We don't yet know what was wrong with you and—"

"I'm fine, and I'm leaving." Determined, she brushed the woman aside and stood. Her knees were weak and almost buckled, but she pressed her weight into her heels and steadied herself, even as a wave of dizziness hit her.

What the hell had they been pumping into her vein?

Strong hands settled on her shoulders and applied pressure. Having none of that, Scarlet again knocked the woman's arms aside. "Where are my clothes?" Her butterfly necklace was in the pocket of her pants, and she wanted it back.

The human clearly wasn't used to being challenged; she paled as she backed away, palms raised and out. "Your clothes are with your arsenal."

Yep. Those weapons had gotten her into trouble. "And where's my arsenal?"

Eyes of light brown narrowed. "With the police." Hard, firm tone. "There's an officer here who's been waiting to talk with you, so I suggest you lie back down. You shouldn't be up and around. We're still running tests, trying to figure out what's wrong with you."

Shit, she thought again. If her clothes were locked away in some police station, getting them back would take a lot of time and effort. Time and effort she didn't have. "Look, nothing's wrong with me except my clothes and belongings have been stolen. Now where the hell am I?"

"Northwestern Memorial."

"No. What city?"

The nurse blinked at her. "Chicago."

Why the hell had her mother sent her here?

"I'm just going to get your doctor and let her know you're ready to be discharged," the nurse said. Of course, Scarlet knew she was lying. Thanks to Gideon, she considered herself a living lie detector now. The nurse was going to summon the officer.

Scarlet allowed the woman to leave the room without protest. The moment she was alone, she kicked the shadows out of her head. They wrapped around her, cuddling her close, enveloping her with impenetrable darkness. Well, impenetrable for everyone else. No one would be able to see her, but she could absolutely see everyone and everything.

Rather than leave, however, she pressed against the wall, right by the doorway. Just in time, too. The officer, who was in his early twenties, physically fit and determined, came barreling down the hall, coffee in hand. He haphazardly slapped that coffee on the counter of the nurses' station without slowing his step, his other hand remaining on his gun handle.

Scarlet gasped in horrified realization. He was a Hunter. The tattoo on his wrist, a symbol of infinity, wasn't just for decoration. It was his mark, his vow to kill those who were demon-possessed.

That's why her mother had flashed her here. There was probably a contingent of Hunters based here.

Her stomach twisted. At least Rhea hadn't flashed her into the middle of that contingent. Which had to mean, on some level, that Rhea held her in some affection.

Wishful thinking, and you know it. Most likely, Rhea had just misjudged the distance.

When the man reached Scarlet's room, he flew past the door, just as Nurse Tattletale had, his expression resolved. He stopped and growled when he realized he was alone.

"Where'd she go?" he demanded.

None of the nurses were willing to approach and respond.

Had Rhea had time to tell him who Scarlet was? What Scarlet was? Probably not. Otherwise, there would have been more than one Hunter waiting for her to awaken, and this one wouldn't have left her. Even for a second. So why was he here?

There had probably been a report about her appearing out of nowhere, she realized, and he probably wanted to know how she'd done it.

Renewed anger sparked in her chest, easing the sting in her stomach. She'd fallen asleep in front of humans who could have done anything they wanted to her, and she wouldn't have been able to defend herself. Yet another sin to punish her heartless mother for.

As the officer radioed for assistance, then shouted orders to the hospital staff to lock all the building's doors, Scarlet slipped into the hallway, doing her best to remain in the shadows so that her shadows blended in.

Making her way outside proved uneventful. There was simply no way to lock the E.R. exits, since wreck victims were being wheeled in. Sunlight waned, creating a purple sky, the evening fragrant with summer blooms. Crickets chirped, and cars zoomed on the nearby road. An ambulance was blaring its sirens as it pulled into the parking lot.

Scarlet headed toward that lot with every intention of stealing a car. But where should she go? Her aunt was too weak to find her now. She couldn't get to the heavens to slap her mother around, couldn't block her location from the gods, so she could be found by any of them at any time and tossed into another Hunters' den.

Gideon wasn't home, so he couldn't—

Gideon. Her hands fisted. Did his friends know where he was? And who he'd been doing? Her nail sharpened, cutting into her palms. Slow down. Are you sure he was having sex with your mother? He didn't look like a man lost in pleasure.

Scarlet thought back and frowned. Sure, both Gideon and her mother had been naked. And sure, her mother had been straddling his waist. And okay, yeah, there'd been no promises between her and Gideon. She'd told him things were over, finished. In his mind, he'd been free to do whatever or whoever he wanted. But there'd been panic in his eyes. Panic and pain and fury.

What if he hadn't been there of his own free will?

She gulped, afraid to hope. And she hated herself for even wanting to. He could be in serious trouble.

But his reaction would explain why her mother had flashed Scarlet there to witness the deed and then shooed her away before Gideon could say anything. What better way to hurt her than to "steal" her man?

The very hope she feared suddenly grew wings and fluttered through her. If she was wrong about what had happened and he truly did want Rhea, she would...what? Kill them both? Try and remind him how good it had been between them?

No. That still wasn't an option. Was still too dangerous. Besides, after everything that had happened, Gideon deserved a long and happy life.

Finally, Scarlet knew what she had to do to save him, to give him that long and happy life. And she would have rather chewed off her leg. Because now an eternity of suffering awaited her.

GIDEON SAT in front of the dungeon's cell, peering inside at NeeMah, who was still mostly charred. However, pale hair had sprouted from her scalp, and new skin was forming on her face and limbs. She should have regenerated completely by now, but the slave collar, which prevented her from using her godly powers, had slowed her healing process considerably.

He wasn't wearing a collar, but his healing process seemed slowed, as well. After two days, he was still weak himself, and had barely made it through the fortress and down the steps to get here—where he had remained—but his determination had spurred him onward. He would get answers for Scarlet.

"You will—not—" he dropped the volume of his voice for the word not, hopefully making NeeMah hear only what he wanted her to hear "—answer everything I ask. If you do—not—I will torch your healing skin." And that wasn't a boast. He would do it. With a smile.

"Y-yes," NeeMah said. She lay on a cot, her hands resting under her cheek. Her lids opened, revealing the whites of her eyes, a startling contrast to the black smudges circling them. "I will."

He was used to torturing Hunters for every scrap of information, so her easy compliance threw him a little. He'd thought he would have to burn her at least once to prompt her into her first reply. That he hadn't...His suspicious nature peeked past his determination—and disappointment. Charbroiling her might have been fun.

"Why have you—not—tormented Scarlet all these years?" he asked.

"Why do you care?" Her voice was ragged, raspy from smoke. "You aren't her husband."

I want to be. One day, I will be. "Don't—" uttered quietly "—answer the question—" yelled viciously. He held up a lighter.

She flinched, even whimpered. "Boredom," she rushed out. "Favors for my sister the queen. Why else?"

Truth. He hated himself just then, because, in a way, he was just as much at fault for Scarlet's treatment as her aunt. How many times had he entered Tartarus? Countless. Why hadn't he noticed Scarlet? The woman, not the child. If he had, there were a thousand things he could have done to protect her.

Namely, he could have moved her to a private cell. He could have killed both Rhea and NeeMah, or, at the very least, warned them what would happen if they didn't stop tormenting her. Yet he hadn't noticed the lovely woman she'd become and so he'd done nothing.

How could he not have noticed her? Just how stupid and blind had he been? She was the most important person in his life.

He truly didn't deserve her, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying to win her.

"Is there a way to undo the damage you—" he lowered his voice to whisper softly "—didn't—" then let his voice return to normal "—cause?"

"Yes. I can remove all her memories."

Which was what Scarlet wanted. Not Gideon, though. He wanted Scarlet as she was. But he also placed her wants above his own and would do whatever was necessary to make her happy. Even that, he realized now.

That wouldn't stop him from trying to romance her all over again.

"Will I erase her memories, though?" NeeMah continued, somehow stronger now. "No. Believe me, it's better to have Scarlet as an enemy than Rhea."

And yet she had become Cronus's mistress. Perhaps, though, that had been at her sister's request, a way to keep tabs on the man. Interesting. Amun would be able to discern the truth, which was why Cronus had wanted the warrior's aid in the first place.

"And to be honest," NeeMah added, almost as an afterthought, though she couldn't conceal the clenching of her teeth, "after what Scarlet just did to me, I would rather die than aid her."

As that was NeeMah's only other option, she might just get her wish. She would change her mind, though, the moment he approached her with the lighter and a can of gasoline. He was sure of it. But he didn't threaten her again. There was no need. Scarlet wasn't here, so why force the issue just yet?

"Why—doesn't—her mother hate her?" he asked, raising and lowering his voice as needed.

NeeMah rolled to her back, hissed in a pained breath. "My sister can't help herself. She thought she loved Scarlet's father, and yet he was only using her. He had a wife of his own and cast Rhea aside as soon as he learned of her pregnancy. Then the Greeks captured the Titans and threw us in prison, preventing her from gaining revenge against the foolish mortal."

"So she—didn't—blame Scarlet?" Bitch. He flicked the lighter on, off, as he waited for her reply, daring her to refuse him.

"Not at first. At first, she loved the infant. Or rather, loved the infant as much as she was able. But as Scarlet grew, looking so much like her father, Rhea's love died. And it didn't help that Scarlet was growing into such a lovely woman. Rhea had already had so much taken from her. Her throne, her power, her freedom. To no longer be considered the fairest in the realm was a blow her ego could not tolerate."

Because of vanity, she'd practically gift wrapped her daughter for the monsters trapped inside their cell. Calling the woman a bitch, he realized, had been an insult to bitches.

"Don't." Gideon longed to return to Rhea, a knife in hand. He would slit her throat without any hesitation—then spit on her lifeless body. On. Off. Flames sparked, died. "Continue."

"Then, when Strife was paired with her," NeeMah continued shakily, "all of her feelings intensified. Her hate, her jealousy, her need to prove herself. She was compelled to cause trouble. As you know."

"You were given a demon." A statement, not a question. Not once had her eyes flickered with red. Not once had he seen a flash of undiluted evil behind her face. Oh, there was evil, all right, just not the demonic kind.

She replied anyway. "No. I was spared."

"Why? Not," he finished in a whisper. On. Off.

"Zeus chose who was paired with what demon, and each pairing was determined out of spite. A punishment of sorts. I had done nothing to harm him. Nothing he recalled, that is."

Truth mixed with smug superiority.

Lies hissed.

Zeus had told some of the Lords why they'd been given their demon. Lucien received Death because he'd opened Pandora's box, nearly leading to the demise of the world. Maddox received Violence because he'd killed the most soldiers in his quest to reach the box. Paris had seduced Pandora to distract her, therefore he'd received Promiscuity.

Why, though, had Gideon been given Lies? He'd been a good warrior for the king. He'd helped steal Pandora's box, yes, but his part had been minimal because he'd felt so damn guilty for betraying his creator.

With that line of thinking, another question arose. Why had Scarlet been given Nightmares?

Lies began to purr.

Gideon frowned. Why purr? That spoke of affection. I thought you were over Scarlet, you fickle bastard. Not mine, Lies said. Which really meant, All mine.

You can't do that, you little shit. You can't keep changing your mind like that, wanting her one minute, discarding her the next. Not mine.

I should ask her demon to—

NOT MINE.

Wait. What? Her...demon?

NOT MINE.

His eyes widened as everything finally slid into place. Had the two demons been...lovers while inside that box? Or maybe inside hell?

The purring increased in volume, and he could only shake his head in wonder. All this time with his demon, and he hadn't realized such creatures could form connections like that. But Lies and Nightmares must have done so.

That explained so much. Why Lies had wanted to stay with Scarlet, but hadn't cared about Scarlet herself. Why Lies had been willing to do something abhorrent to him, like tell the truth, just to keep Scarlet nearby. Why Lies had responded to Rhea when she'd looked like Scarlet. The demon had only seen the packaging and had assumed Nightmares was inside.

Perhaps Zeus had known of the connection. Perhaps Zeus had also known of Scarlet's desire for Gideon. Perhaps he'd given Gideon the demon of Lies as a...gift.

And you were trying to find a way to kill him. He might just owe the deposed king a big fat thank-you. He would rather kiss Scarlet, though. Damn it, where was she? What was she doing?

Would she go for his throat the next time she saw him? She thought he was screwing her bitch of a mother, after all. Or would she try to avoid him for the rest of eternity?

Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't be able to do so. She was tracking NeeMah and would eventually discover that the woman's trail led here. So they wouldmeet again. He would just have to make sure he was prepared. Fingers crossed she didn't kill him while he slept or remove his head before he'd had a chance to explain.

Fingers crossed she even wanted to hear his explanation.

"Speaking of memory loss...I think it's funny that you and Scarlet met again."

NeeMah's voice drew him from his thoughts, and he arched a brow at her. "Not—" whispered "—again?" Loudly.

"You probably don't remember—" she smiled at that, fleeting, but there all the same "—but you came looking for her once. Well, a little boy you discovered was actually a girl. She was grown by then and you clearly liked what you saw."

Fire ignited in his chest, then spread to his limbs. At first, Gideon didn't know why. Then he realized Lies was storming through him, so agitated the turmoil seeped into Gideon. Why? "Do you remember?" the goddess asked him.

He remembered that little boy, and now knew that had been Scarlet. Yet he didn't remember ever encountering an adult version Scarlet. Had his memory been screwed with?

"Anyway, for some reason, you never returned. You left her there." She offered him another false grin. "Such a pity."

He hopped up, panting with the force of his sudden rage. On. Off. On. Off. She had screwed with him.

"Oh, do you wish to remember? Give me your hand, and it's done. Even with my collar, I can get inside your head."

"One day," he snarled, gripping the bars, shaking, the lighter clinking against the metal.

"Yes?" she asked, clearly thinking there was nothing he could do. She sat up, gaze never leaving him. "One day? What will you do?"

"I will—I will—" Nothing sounded violent enough.

"Will you kill me? Will you torture me? What can you truly do to harm me? Tell me I'm ugly? Tell me I'm powerless? Do it, then. And see how I punish Scarlet in turn. We both know she'll return for me. I'll convince her to hate you. I'll convince her to kill you. I'll convince her to sleep with man after man. I'll convince her to kill herself. And there's nothing—"

A roar, loud and long, echoed between them. Through out the entire tirade, Lies had prowled and paced, a caged predator filled with rage. At the mention of Scarlet's death, the demon had erupted.

Before Gideon knew what was happening, the demon exploded from his body, a dark vision of scales and horns and bones. Of evil.

NeeMah yelped with horrified panic as the fiend chomped at her—before disappearing inside her. She jerked, hunched over. Whimpered. Soon, tears began streaming down her face.

"I'm so ugly," she cried. "So powerless. I'm unworthy of life. Oh, gods, I'm so unworthy."

All the things she'd taunted Gideon with, things she hadn't ever believed of herself. But now, with the demon convincing her that the lies were the truth, she believed, and it was tearing her up inside.

He could only watch, his own rage easing in the shadow of his combined shock and fascination. Lies had actually left him. Left him. And was now obviously prowling through NeeMah's head, making her believe the lies about her beauty, her strength. How the demon had done it, he didn't know. Why the demon hadn't ever left him before, he didn't know.

How the demon remained sane and Gideon alive, he didn't know, either.

Minutes later, when NeeMah was a sobbing puddle on her cot, her entire body shuddering, the demon returned to him and settled inside his head, purring with more of that satisfaction.

How did you do that? he asked, dazed.

I know.

The demon had no idea, then. Why did you come back?

Aren't tethered to you.

Holy hell. Can you do it again?

I know.

Let's find out. "You might want to buckle up," he told the goddess as he grinned. "You're about to have a lot of fun."