The Darkest Passion

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AFTER OLIVIA TORE a strip of cloth from the bottom of her robe and wrapped it around Aeron’s shoulder, she withdrew one of the blades from the sheath anchored to his ankle. I will protect him. No matter the actions necessary. Just as he’d done for her. She crouched in front of him, waiting for his friends to arrive. Or Hunters. If anyone besides a Lord approached, she wouldn’t hesitate to attack.

Never had she felt more like a warrior, more confident in herself, yet more afraid—for the man beside her. He’d taken bullets before; she’d seen him. He’d been stabbed, beaten and cut with knives and arrows. Yet he hadn’t reacted like this. He hadn’t gone pallid, hadn’t moaned and trembled. Hadn’t continued to bleed and weaken.

Minute after minute passed, and there was no change in him. Where in heaven’s name were those Lords? They had better hurry, and not just for Aeron’s sake. If they waited too long, dusk would arrive and Scarlet would awaken. And she would be very, very angry.

No one would survive.

At least that tempting voice had shut up the moment she’d left the fortress, and stopped urging her to do those vile—wonderful—things. Hardly a silver lining, though. Nothing was. The animals were even now crowding through the flowers and bushes, perhaps drawing the attention of passersby. Trying to get closer to her? Or Aeron? She didn’t remember them ever approaching Aeron before, but couldn’t figure out why the squirrels, rabbits, birds, cats and even a dog would seek her.

“Scat,” she whispered, not wanting them hurt if a fight did, in fact, break out.

They didn’t budge. No, they inched closer. To her. So she was the draw. Why?

“You have to leave now—”

A twig snapped, quieting her.

The dog growled and the cats hissed, but none ran away. They crouched, ready to leap into attack.

Her lips pressed together, every muscle in her body freezing. She even stopped breathing. Who was here? Lords? Or Hunters? The hand holding the blade trembled. For Aeron, she thought, readying like the animals. She was suddenly glad they’d stubbornly stayed with her.

Two men stepped past the foliage and at first, she didn’t recognize them. She was too prepped, too determined to save this man she…loved? But just as she launched herself at one of them, the dog sprang forward, beating her to the target.

“Ow! Get off me, you mangy mutt,” he gritted out.

She recognized the voice—William—but didn’t lower her blade in time, her momentum too swift. Just before contact, a hard hand wrapped around her wrist, jerking her to the side before stilling her.

“Whoa, there, Liv,” he said with a laugh. His voice was familiar, too. Paris. “I can call you Liv, right? Drop the blade for me, yes?”

Relief pounded through her, and she released the weapon.

“Now tell this mutt to let go!” William shouted.

“They’re friends of mine,” she told the dog. “I’m safe now.”

The dog removed its teeth from William’s ankle and each of the animals dashed away as if that was all they’d been waiting for. The assurance of her safety.

What little darlings. “Thank you,” she called gratefully.

“Now that William’s been properly welcomed,” Paris said with another laugh, “we should get this show on the road.” Concern lit his beautiful face when he spied Aeron. He bent down, slid his arms under the still-sleeping warrior and hefted him over his shoulder. “How long’s he been like this?”

“Too long.”

William limped to Scarlet and did the same, only he cradled her in his arms as if she were a precious treasure. “At least I get the pretty package.”

“Yeah, good luck with her,” Paris replied. “I’d say I got the better end of this deal. Apparently she’s possessed by Nightmares.”

William rolled his eyes. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“If you don’t like having your balls handed to you, then yeah, I’d say it’s a bad thing.”

“Come to Daddy,” William said, holding Scarlet all the tighter.

Olivia listened to their banter, head zinging back and forth between them. “Enough. There were Hunters here, you know. This is a dangerous location. More than that, something’s wrong with Aeron. I want him in bed.”

“Sure, sure,” William told her with a nod. “We’ve known that from the beginning. But you’re going to have to wait until he wakes up for that kind of sport. When you finish with him, though, I’d love a go at you myself. Show you what it’s like to be with someone who knows what they’re doing, and all that.”

Her hands fisted. Did he take nothing seriously?

“We’re parked over here.” Paris jerked his head to the side.

Finally. “Let’s go.”

Together they broke through the bushes, and each man went on alert. In the span of a single second, it was as if they were different people. Hidden, they’d joked with each other and teased her about wanting to bed Aeron. Now, they were soldiers, hardened, capable of anything.

So many times, she’d watched the same change overcome Aeron. Until now, she hadn’t truly appreciated it.

Aeron. Brave, injured Aeron. When her nine days ticked away and he was taken from her, where would she go? What would she do? She doubted these men would invite her to remain with them. And would she want them to? Aeron would no longer be there, the memory of him taunting her from every corner.

For the second time, Olivia found herself upset with the short amount of time she and Aeron had. Maybe there was a way to save him. Maybe there was a way for them to be together forever. Yes. Surely. Her Deity was the creator of love. Actually, her Deity was love. He would want two people who loved each other to be together. Right?

But she still wasn’t sure beyond any doubt that she loved Aeron. Admired him, yes. Was aroused by him and craved his touch, oh, yes. But die in his place? she wondered again. Again, she wasn’t sure. She’d given up everything to be with him—everything except her life.

Could she?

Plus, in dying for Aeron, she’d have to die for Legion, as well. Because she knew, knew, Aeron wouldn’t be happy without the little—big now—tyrant. And if Aeron was going to live, she wanted him to be happy while doing so. Yet the thought of dying for such a lying, conniving brat didn’t settle well.

More than that, Aeron would have to love Olivia. Right now, there was no question that he didn’t.

Olivia sighed as she climbed into the SUV. Aeron was laid across the backseat, and she cradled his head in her lap. Paris took the wheel and William flopped into the passenger seat with Scarlet still in his arms. Her first time in a car, something she’d looked forward to, but now she didn’t care. Her mind whirled.

Death wasn’t something she’d ever considered for herself. Not really. She’d just always been and had known she would always be. Now she could die. Not to save someone, but just because, say, a car hit her. How did she feel about that? She didn’t know. All she knew was that dying, without experiencing everything she wanted, was abhorrent. But afterward? Being without Aeron would be far more so.

She’d seen thousands, millions, of humans die. Not one of those deaths had ever affected her, for they had simply been part of the circle of life. Every beginning had an end. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t mourned the thought of ultimately losing Aeron at first. It would be just another death in a long line of deaths she’d witnessed.

Now, his was personal. She knew him intimately, had kissed and tasted him. Had experienced the ultimate pleasure with him. She had slept in his arms, curled into his side. He had protected her. He could have climbed inside that casket himself, but he hadn’t. He’d placed her inside, ensuring she walked away unscathed rather than himself.

Therefore, he’d been willing to die for her. Why? Again, she had no illusions that he loved her.

She heaved another sigh and ran her palm along his scalp. As short as his hair was, the spikes tickled her skin. Later, she would summon Lysander. She would ask him about all of this—and also why he’d visited Aeron before. He wouldn’t be able to lie to her. And if what he said was bad, destroying her hope for a future with this amazing man, she’d…what? She gulped.

“We shouldn’t leave Gilly in that apartment,” William said suddenly, drawing Olivia from her thoughts. “Not with your enemies buzzing around like flies.”

“One, Aeron needs to get home. Two, she’s better off there, disassociated from us.” Paris fiddled with the rearview mirror, gaze darting in front of and behind him. “The Hunters have no idea—”

William slapped a hand on the console between them. “I beg to differ, Sex. They knew about Scarlet, and what contact have we had with her? Almost none. How much have we had with Gilly? Too much. And with Rhea on Team Dumbness, we can’t leave Gilly out there on her own. Besides, Aeron is immortal. He’ll keep. So again, we can’t leave her out there on her own.”

“Shit. You’re right.”

“I always am.”

“We’ll pick her up on the way to the fortress.”

“She’ll be at school,” William said, and Paris cursed as he made an illegal turn, the tires squealing.

Olivia thought about complaining. She wanted Aeron safe and doctored as soon as possible, but the men were right. Gilly was human and needed protecting.

“Shit,” Paris repeated. “She’s at the American International School of Budapest, and it’s located in the Nagykovácsi Campus. I think. Pretty good distance we’ve gotta go.”

“Worth it.”

There was an odd tenderness in William’s voice when he spoke about the girl. She was too young for him, though. Too young for any of the men at the fortress. If Olivia had to warn the warrior away, he wouldn’t like her methods. They’d involve a knife and a small plastic bag.

Embracing the warrior life you once so easily discarded?

“I doubt that she’ll be happy to see us,” Paris said.

“Speak for yourself. Anya says she has a crush on me.” William sounded proud about that.

“She’s just a child,” Olivia reminded him. And I don’t care if I’m considered a warrior or not, I really will borrow one of Aeron’s knives….

William twisted in his seat to face her, hardly disturbing Scarlet at all. His lips were lifting in a naughty grin. “I know that, but when it comes to my appeal, you’ll find that age doesn’t matter. Gender, either. I’m irresistible.”

“What are your intentions toward her?”

He rolled his eyes. “I have no intentions. I like to be admired, and she likes to admire me. That’s the extent of it.”

“Good.” Olivia didn’t hear a lie in his voice. Still. She wasn’t taking any chances. Not with Gilly’s well-being. “She’s led a difficult life. Her mom’s husband…did things to her.” Perhaps she shouldn’t be spilling Gilly’s secrets, but she knew how the memories festered inside the girl. Finally bringing them into the light could be the first step to healing. “She told her mom, but the woman refused to believe her. Even accused her of trying to destroy her new, wonderful life.”

“We know about that,” Paris said gently. “Danika told us.”

“Not me.” William swung back to face the front, but not before she caught a glimpse of utter, undiluted fury on his face. “How do you know that?”

“I was once assigned to her care.”

The rest of the drive was made in tense, oppressive silence. Finally they were winding through a neighborhood, a suburb, the houses utterly wonderful and inviting. Thick green trees surrounded the area, one side situated on a hill and rising majestically.

The car stopped in a parking lot, and Paris flicked William a glance. “I’ll just be a minute. Watch the baggage.”

Without warning, and moving so quickly there was nothing Paris could do, William dumped Scarlet in the demon’s lap, no longer quite so careful. “I’ll just be a minute. You scare Gilly, and I’m not having that. Not today.”

“I don’t scare women. I delight them. Besides, you aren’t on the checkout list, and I am.”

William rolled his eyes—a favorite action of his, apparently—and exited the vehicle. “Like that’ll stop me. Have you seen my eyes? They’re electric. Women take one look and I’m immediately placed on their checkout lists.”

“Stop praising yourself and hurry,” Olivia told him just as he slammed the door shut.

He saluted her with a grin.

She watched his progression into the school, fingers tracing over Aeron’s warming brow. He wasn’t getting any better, was even beginning to thrash a bit. His brow was beaded with sweat, and his teeth were digging into his bottom lip.

Not knowing what else to do, she began to sing. Sweet songs of peace and health. A few chords into the hymn, Aeron stilled, his pinched expression even relaxing somewhat.

“My gods,” Paris whispered brokenly.

Her voice tapered off, and she looked up at him. “What? What’s wrong?”

Aeron began thrashing again.

“Don’t stop!” Paris said. “It’s beautiful. My ears are already addicted and need more.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Olivia launched into another serenade. Outside, she could see all manner of animals emerging from the forest and approaching the vehicle. Once more, Aeron calmed and she could have wept with joy.

Would she die for him? Her finger traced one of the skeletal tattoos on his cheekbone. Maybe.

WILLIAM STOOD in the school’s main office, waiting for Gilly. The receptionist had already called her. As he’d told the female that his name was Paris Lord, she’d summoned the girl without incident. List crisis averted.

She was short and curved, in her mid-thirties with a sleek brown bob and brown eyes—eyes she was now in the process of stripping him with. A routine occurrence. One he usually enjoyed. Not so now. He just wanted to haul Gilly the hell out of here. He liked the little smart-ass, and wouldn’t rest until she was safe.

He’d had no idea she’d led so terrible a life, and he was ashamed of himself. He knew women. He could figure them out in the span of a once-over. So why hadn’t he realized Gilly was hurting?

Her fucking mother and would-be stepfather! Two people who were supposed to protect her. Well, William was with her now and William would ensure nothing like that ever happened again. He was tempted to cut her mother and stepdad’s throats. Maybe give her their heads for Christmas or something.

“Are you Gilly’s father?” the receptionist asked. She’d abandoned her post at her desk and now stood across from him at the counter.

Shit. He hadn’t seen or heard her move. That level of distraction was dangerous. “Brother,” he replied, a bit irritated that he looked old enough to have a seventeen-year-old daughter. Yeah, he was pushing two thou, but he didn’t have a wrinkle on him, damn it!

“Oh. That’s nice.” She grinned and slid a piece of paper his way. “If you’d ever like to discuss her curriculum, here’s my number. Call anytime.”

“I’ll definitely be in contact.” He, too, grinned, though his was forced. He pocketed the paper, knowing he wouldn’t use it. “Education is so important.”

That earned him a giggle, and he tried not to cringe.

Women. They were both a blessing and a curse. Sex, he loved. Sex, he needed, craved. Sex with the wrong woman had gotten him locked up. Sex with the goddesses who visited him in prison had gotten him kicked out of the heavens. That hadn’t stopped his libido, however. Actually, nothing stopped his libido. Even the curse hanging over his head.

One day, a woman of great beauty and power would tempt him. One day, that woman would trick him into loving her. One day, that woman would enslave him. And then, that woman would kill him.

It had already been prophesied.

Maybe—perhaps—okay, not really likely—he could have avoided females altogether and saved himself the trouble of such a death sentence. But even that wouldn’t have saved him. That, too, was part of the prophesy. To avoid women and sex was simply to condemn himself to a much faster, much more painful death.

The only way to stop the unnamed woman and break the curse had been written in a book. A book that was nearly impossible to decode, so he had yet to find the answer. Also, the minor fucking goddess of Anarchy had possession of that book, returning it page by stingy page. He’d hate Anya for such a thing if he didn’t love her so damned much.

They’d spent hundreds of years in Tartarus as cell neighbors. Her wit had been the only thing to keep him sane.

“William?” Gilly’s husky voice suddenly rang out.

He turned on his heel and there she was, standing at the end of a long hallway. She was slender, dark haired, dark eyed, and more…knowledgeable than someone her age should ever be. That should have been clue number one, he thought.

Maybe he’d sensed it, but hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.

She wore jeans and a T-shirt, and sneakers that had a tracking device hidden in the soles, not that she knew it. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, not a speck of makeup on her face.

That didn’t seem to bother the boy next to her. He was staring at her as if hypnotized. But having heard her say William’s name, that boy had frowned. And when he followed the line of her gaze and spotted William, his frown deepened and he paled.

Boyfriend? Or potential boyfriend?

Someone would have to put a stop to that. She was too young, with too traumatic a past. She needed to be alone. Until she was at least forty.

“Hey, pet,” William said with a finger wave.

Grinning, she rushed forward and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her tight before latching onto her wrists and gently pushing her back. He might enjoy her, might want the best for her, but he didn’t want to encourage her crush anymore.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

The boy she’d been with eased up behind her. He was tall for a teen, reaching William’s ear, with brown hair and blue eyes.

“Who are you?” William demanded unceremoniously.

“C-Corbin, sir.”

“What kind of a name is Corbin Sir? And if you ever hurt Gilly, I swear to the gods I will personally—”

Gilly slapped William’s shoulder. “Stop. Cori’s my friend. He just wanted to make sure I reached the office okay.”

“Well, that’s admirable,” William said, never removing his narrowed gaze from the boy. “As long as protection was his only goal.”

Corbin pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Are you her…boyfriend or something?”

“Brother,” William said as Gilly said, “Yes.”

His gaze finally whipped back to her, and he arched a brow. Yes? They needed to have a chat, then. Maybe later, though. Hearing the word had caused something to tighten in his chest. He’d figure out what that tightening meant first.

“So why are you here?” she asked again, her cheeks reddening.

He didn’t like that he’d embarrassed her, but there was no help for it. “Aeron’s been hurt. There are problems in the city, and we want you in the fortress with the others until it’s safe again.”

“Aeron?” Corbin asked.

“Another brother,” William informed him.

The boy’s eyes widened. “How many do you have?”

“A lot,” Gilly replied with a weary sigh. “So you’ll be there, Liam? At the fortress?”

Liam. Her nickname for him. Once he’d liked it. Now he saw it as the endearment it was meant to be. Oh, yes. They’d be having a chat. Damn his irresistible beauty. “Yes, I’ll be there. So let’s go home, pet. Aeron’s in the car and he needs some medical attention stat.”

Despite her fear of the Lords, she paled with worry, grabbed his hand and led him from the building. “Bye, Cori,” she called over her shoulder.

“Bye,” the boy returned, and there was a bit of an edge to the sound.

William spied the Escalade but couldn’t see Olivia through the window tint, not to mention the god-awful number of deer now surrounding the vehicle. However, he didn’t have to see her to know that if they failed to get Aeron to the fortress safely, the angel, for all her goodness, would erupt into a seething cauldron of feminine fury. It was there in her eyes, a churning, unstoppable passion just waiting to boil over. Something she probably didn’t realize she was capable of, but William realized it because, unlike his cluelessness with Gilly, he’d picked up on Olivia’s dreams, fears and needs the moment he’d seen her.

Aeron was her everything. If the warrior died, even the gods wouldn’t be able to stop her rampage.