The Darkest Passion

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING,” Aeron whispered an hour later. “It’s too dark.” An unnatural darkness, at that. There wasn’t a speck of light, and the flashlight he’d brought with him highlighted nothing, merely disappearing into the yawning thickness of gloom.

“The night Lysander appeared to me, he told me I would remain an angel in all the ways that mattered until my time expired,” Olivia said. “I think I can—”

“Shh. Inside voice.” He didn’t want her to become a target. In fact, the thought enraged him, but he only had himself to blame. He shouldn’t have brought her here, whether Nightmares was a threat or not. He just—he hadn’t wanted to leave her within striking distance of Legion. Or touching distance of Torin. And he had promised to show Olivia the harsh realities of his life.

I’m such a fool. A fool drowning in a storm of his own making. Desire for Olivia—check, that hadn’t lessened. Had only grown. A jealous, bloodthirsty pseudo-daughter determined to end his angel—check. A vow to convince said angel to return home—check, even though he now hated himself for that vow. Send her away, never knowing how she fared? Torture!

“She’s sleeping,” Olivia said, and that, too, was stated at top volume.

“She can awaken,” he gritted out. He’d never minded the dark, but as he inched down the steps and felt his way along the walls of Scarlet’s home, which just happened to be an underground crypt in the local cemetery, bumping into—furniture? coffins?—and having no idea what waited ahead, the possibility of leading Olivia into slaughter caused tendrils of fear to blend with his rage. How could he protect her like this?

“She won’t awaken, I promise. Anyway. As my time has not yet expired, maybe I can…”

As Olivia’s words trailed off, he stopped, pivoted. She knocked into him and humphed. Even though he’d felt her only briefly, he savored the contact. Soft, warm. Exhilarating. That’s all his body needed to ready itself. Again.

Mine, Wrath said.

I know. You’ve told me. Over and freaking over again. And Aeron had let him, had stopped caring. Because…No. Don’t go there.

A moment passed in silence, their breathing the only sound. The air was musty, thick with age, dust and death, but he would’ve been content to wait here forever. Here, she was safe. Here, they were together.

“Can what?” he finally prompted.

“This.” Pinpricks of light flickered.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes. Those pinpricks were actually sparking off her skin, he realized, blending together and growing in intensity. Growing so much she was soon chasing away the shadows and his eyes were tearing.

“How—”

Slowly she grinned, her beautiful face illuminated, shining like the purest star, those dark lashes framing those sky-blue eyes. He could have kissed the breath right out of her. Don’t you dare. But now that he knew her taste, now that he’d felt her rub against him, how was he supposed to resist?

Legion. Lysander. Freedom.

Oh, yeah. He could have cursed.

“Humans were sometimes trapped in darkness, and I had to show them the way out.” Olivia shifted from one foot to the other, and motioned behind him with a tilt of her chin. “Scarlet is just around the corner. I can sense her.”

“Thank you.” Motions stiff, Aeron forced himself to turn away. His eyes immediately mourned the loss of her.

Wrath, too, howled in protest.

Calm. We’re still with her. Aeron led his charge down the correct dirt path and soon found himself standing in a makeshift bedroom. Pikes sprung from several places in the floor, gleaming sharply and anchored firmly by concrete. Between them were trip wires, and at the far end of the room, guarded by the entire fun zone, was a coffin.

Why a coffin? Because she could close herself in for better protection? Smart woman, if so.

He palmed a blade and closed the distance, dodging those pikes. Olivia stayed close to his heels, every step measured.

“Careful,” he muttered. “Stay behind me.” He flipped open the lid, halfway expecting a fight.

Nope. As Olivia had promised, Scarlet slept peacefully, completely unaware of his intrusion. He studied her. Silky black hair framed her seemingly delicate face. She hadn’t looked delicate before, when she’d cornered him in that alley. Her lashes were longer than he’d realized, like feathered fans reaching for her cheekbones. She had a small nose, and her lips were redder than before.

She wore a T-shirt and jeans, both black, and weapons were strapped all over her body. She didn’t disarm, even to sleep. Interesting. Even he removed his blades before crawling into bed. He kept them nearby, of course, but not on him.

Relaxing, his gaze shifted. The walls were dirt, just like the floor, and there were blades peeking from several locations. Anyone who fell, either into the wall or onto the floor, would tumble straight to their death.

Nightmares could have placed traps at the doorway or even on the steps leading down here, but hadn’t. Why? Perhaps she’d known the unerring gloom would frighten most people—most innocents—away. But the ones who persisted, the ones who kept going, would clearly have more sinister intentions. Perhaps those were the only people she wanted to hurt.

If that were the case, that would mean she killed discriminately. That would mean there was a line she wouldn’t cross. Or perhaps she just liked the kills to be made nearby, so that the first thing she would see when she awoke was blood and death.

Either way, the woman was serious about protecting herself.

He almost hoped she would rouse and attack him. He needed a battle. His nerves were on edge and bloodshed would have calmed him. Too many things were happening, changing. Too many things were going wrong.

Baden’s demon finding a new host, thanks to Galen. Discovering Cronus and Rhea were possessed. Everything with Olivia, of course, and her naughty clothes and searing kisses, with her irresistible suggestions (just then, he almost missed the voice) and her attempted seduction of another man, all of which were like matches on the kindling of his arousal. And jealousy. And anger.

Yes, he needed to kill someone today.

And if all of that wasn’t enough to deal with, Legion looked at him the way he wanted Olivia to look at him. She’d made a pact with the creator of evil, and she’d blatantly lied to him about it. There at the end, just before leaving her behind, there’d been no more deluding himself about that. Sly determination had practically poured off her.

What was he going to do about her? How was he supposed to handle her? He still loved her like a daughter, still planned to keep her in his life. No way would he abandon her. There just…there had to be a solution.

Don’t think about that now. You have a job to do. The job. Right. So. Back to Scarlet, the problem at hand. Did Galen know about her?

“She used to live in a church,” Olivia said guiltily, before he could tell her they needed to leave. “But that didn’t work out for her.”

Why the guilt? Because she’d led him here? Probably. Careful. He couldn’t let her guilt spark his own. “I believe I asked you to be quiet.”

“I told you. She’s not going to wake up.”

“How do you know?” Silly question. Olivia knew everything, it sometimes seemed. Which meant Sabin was going to love her. Information was the man’s best friend. Thank Olivia’s One True Deity she would be gone before the warrior returned. Aeron would hate to have to stab his friend for interrogating his woman.

At the thought, Wrath chortled with glee.

Well, maybe he wouldn’t hate stabbing the warrior. He owed Sabin, after all. And she’s not your woman! “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. We have to hurry before we run into other visitors.”

“Like who?”

“Like Hunters.”

“Oh.”

Aeron might have craved a battle with Nightmares, but not with Galen’s army. He didn’t want Olivia involved in something like that. He’d show her the horrors of his life another way. From a safe distance.

Scarlet’s crypt was a good distance from The Asylum, so that was a point in their favor.

“—so dark,” an unfamiliar voice suddenly said, the words echoing from the concrete steps above and reaching into the small enclosure.

“My flashlight’s not working.”

“I can’t see anything.”

“Just keep inching forward, damn it.”

Well, hell. This day could indeed get worse. Hunters were here, just as he’d feared. Had someone followed him? Used the Cloak of Invisibility?

Was someone watching him, threatening his woman, even now?

Aeron’s hands curled into fists. He scanned the crypt anew, but saw nothing out of place. He glanced at Olivia, who was still glowing but frowning now. Next he glanced at Scarlet, who was still sleeping. After that, the doorway.

That dark, open space was the only way out of here. And to reach it, they’d have to run straight through the humans. The most likely armed humans.

Those humans couldn’t see through the darkness, but then, Aeron wouldn’t be able to, either, without Olivia’s light. But with her light, everyone would be able to see everyone else.

There was only one thing to do. Only one option that kept Olivia safe.

Aeron slapped a blade into her hand. “Keep it pressed to the girl’s throat,” he whispered. “If she moves even a little, don’t hesitate to cut her.”

Not giving her a chance to reply, he gripped Olivia by the waist and hefted her into the coffin beside Scarlet. The sleeping female remained exactly as she was, but Olivia gasped. Immediately he clamped a hand over her mouth and shook his head. She gulped in fear, but nodded that she understood what he wanted of her. Silence.

“Kill the light.”

Again she nodded, and the glow of her skin washed out…dimmed…then disappeared completely. The shadows must have been waiting for just such an occurrence because they raced forward, enclosing every inch of space with that suffocating gloom.

“Shit! Watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry.”

The voices were closer.

Big as Aeron was, he knew he wouldn’t fit inside the coffin to act as Olivia’s shield. Not without crushing her. Instead, he flattened his hand on her shoulder—or what he’d thought was her shoulder. He jerked that now-burning hand away because he’d actually cupped her beautiful breast. And her nipple had instantly pearled.

Mine. Protect.

Careful this time, he aimed higher. Shoulder. Good. Trembling. Not good. That meant she was as overcome—and distracted—by the mistake as he was. Or afraid. He preferred the thought of her overcome.

Clearly, he was the distracted one. Jolting back into motion, he pressed her to lie down and stay still. Thankfully, she didn’t resist. Whether she did as he’d commanded and placed the tip of the blade at Scarlet’s throat, he didn’t know. Just to be safe, he angled his other hand over Nightmares’s…face. Good. She was still motionless, her breath trekking onto his skin, warm, even.

He hadn’t seen any traps around the coffin itself, so he inched his way to the front end, away from the corridor’s entryway. Not once did he remove his touch from either woman. He wanted Olivia to know he was here, that he would guard her. Always. He would have closed the lid, but wanted access in case the girl did, in fact, awaken.

“Wait,” one of the men said. “Stop.”

“What?”

“Air. Do you feel the breeze?”

“We must be close to an opening.”

Closer still.

There was a shuffling of feet. Multiple sets. Olivia’s trembling increased, and he squeezed her in reassurance.

“It’s gotta be a room.” A pause. A crackle. “Yes. Yes! There’s too much space for this to be another hallway.”

“She can’t be here. She couldn’t have found her way inside.”

“She’s possessed by the fucking demon of Nightmares. Of course she could have found her way. Just…feel around. She’ll be asleep. If you encounter warm skin, just start shooting.”

How did they know so much? Had Cronus told his wife? Or again, had someone made use of the Cloak and listened to private conversations?

“Hell, no. No shooting. We’ll just shoot each other.”

“That’s better than allowing a demon to go free.”

There was a beat of shocked silence as the other Hunters absorbed the man’s death wish.

“We either cut her, or I’m out of here,” someone finally snapped. “I didn’t sign up for a suicide mission.”

“Then cut her, damn it, but make sure you incapacitate her so we can cart her out without fearing she’ll be strong enough to attack. Every bad dream we’ve ever had is her fault. Every bad thing we’ve ever endured is her doing.”

More shuffling. Aeron tensed, waiting. If any of them managed to make it to the coffin, he would have to—

A man screamed.

“What the hell—”

Another scream. A gurgle. Followed by another and another.

There would be no one making it to the coffin.

Nightmares’s traps would see to that. Several of the Hunters discharged their guns, despite their fear of friendly fire, but the darkness hid the sparking of the powder. One of those bullets slammed into Aeron’s shoulder, knocking him backward.

He caught himself as several more human screams rent the air. Though he didn’t want Olivia trapped with the girl, unable to protect herself, he didn’t want her shot, either. He slammed the coffin lid shut.

“What’s happening?”

“Cut,” someone managed to say between coughs.

Another scream, this one blending with the rising tide of pained moans and the wafting scent of fresh blood.

“Retreat,” someone wheezed. “Re— Argh!”

There was even more shuffling, but the number of moving feet had severely decreased. And then, as more screams and moans abounded, the shuffling ended entirely. Over. Done. It was the battle he’d wanted, craved, yet he hadn’t had to lift a single finger to win.

He waited until silence reigned before tossing back the lid and saying, “Light.”

Immediately Olivia obeyed. Once again that nearly blinding light glimmered from her, grew, and conquered the darkness, and he saw that she was pale but unharmed. Scarlet still hadn’t moved.

“Aeron, I was so—” Olivia sat up and twisted to face him. Her expression immediately became pinched. “You’re hurt.”

He gazed down at his wound. There was a hole in his shoulder; crimson seeped from it, riding the ridges of his stomach, each drop absorbing into the waist of his pants. Now that his concern for Olivia had faded, and his adrenaline had decreased, he realized it hurt. Fire spread, quickly, surely, as if his veins pumped gasoline rather than blood.

Didn’t matter. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Been injured worse, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

“I can’t help it.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she reached out and traced her fingertips over his jaw. “I’m worried.”

The touch was meant to comfort him. But as always, the feel of her tormented him. He needed more. Wrath needed more, whimpering inside his head.

Now isn’t the time. Bleeding bodies were piled upon bleeding bodies, blades protruding from each of them. Some had fallen face-first, and others had landed backward. Each had died. He would have to thank the girl for her decorating skills. They, rather than he, had saved Olivia’s life.

He didn’t know if any of the Hunters had managed to escape this room of terror, but he wasn’t going to wait around to see if they returned with backup. After helping Olivia to her feet—shit! and causing his wound to split—he hefted Nightmares into his arms as he’d wanted to do before they were interrupted.

“Stay close,” he said. “Only step where I step.”

“I will.”

He made his way to the open doorway, darting around bodies along the way, grimacing as the fire inside him intensified.

Hurt, Wrath cried.

His lips curved into a frown. You, too?

Bad.

We’ll go home. Rest. There were no trails of blood on the stairs, not even a speck. Which meant no one had made it out. Excellent. Except…by the time he reached the top of the stairs, he was trembling. Weakening. His eyes were glazing over, creating a fog everywhere he looked.

Wrath moaned.

The fire finally died—only to be replaced by a frigid ice.

“Aeron?”

He slowed, his motions sluggish, his feet tripping over each other. “Reach into my back pocket. Grab my phone.” At this rate, he wouldn’t have the strength to fly both women to the fortress.

“What’s wrong with you?” Olivia asked, doing as he’d requested. “Is it your injury? You told me not to worry!”

He ignored the question and the concern. He didn’t want to lie to her—again—and tell her everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t have an answer, either. Neither he nor Wrath had ever reacted this way to a simple gunshot.

“Do you know how to text?” They rounded a corner.

“No. I’ve seen humans do it, but I’ve never tried it myself.”

“What about making a call?” Up ahead, he could finally see the sunlight pushing its way into the crypt. Sweat beaded every inch of him, yet that did nothing to melt the ice. His motions were slowing further, dragging.

“No,” she said again. “I’m sorry.”

Damn. If he released the girl, he wouldn’t be able to pick her back up. That, he knew. Damn, damn, damn.

There were only two possibilities that explained this reaction, he realized. Either the Hunters had used some sort of special bullets or he hadn’t truly recovered from their last attack, as he’d assumed. Neither boded well for him.

Outside—finally, blessedly—he searched for waiting Hunters. He didn’t see any, but wasn’t sure if that was because they weren’t there or because his vision continued to fade. No one jumped out at them, at least.

Flying or not, he wasn’t going to make it home.

He searched his surroundings once more, this time looking for a place to hide. There, a few yards ahead, was a large headstone, flowers of every color perched all around it, forming a hidden alcove.

“This way.” He lumbered forward, weaker with every step.

Olivia wound her arm around his waist, acting as his crutch. “Here. Lean on me.”

He didn’t want to, was embarrassed that he needed to, was even more embarrassed that he actually liked having someone take care of him, but with her aid, he managed to make it. “Thank you.”

He tried to ease Scarlet down, but his knees gave out and the two of them just sort of tumbled forward. She flopped unceremoniously to the ground, and he next to her. Not a peep did she make.

Nor did Wrath. The demon was silent now. Eerily so.

Aeron rolled to his side. Olivia, he saw, was busy rearranging the flowers to pin them in and shield them from prying eyes. “Good…girl,” he told her.

The smile she flicked him was all bravery and iron will. It caused his heart to skip a damned beat. And either he was seeing things that weren’t there or butterflies were actually floating around her head. Squirrels sat at her feet, as well, and birds picked at the grass around her. All of them were watching her, as though waiting for her attention.

Surely he was hallucinating. Which meant he was even worse off than he’d thought. Since he knew he wouldn’t be able to read the numbers on his phone, he told Olivia what to dial.

“Ringing,” she said, and pressed the device to his ear.

“Torin,” he said after his friend answered. “Follow signal. Come get…us.”

He didn’t hear the warrior’s reply. A darkness very similar to what he’d suffered inside that crypt closed around him, and this time, he could only welcome it.