The Darkest Whisper

CHAPTER 28

Though Sabin and Gwen hadn’t been spotted by any Hunters or frisked by security—Doubt had earned its keep, making everyone around them doubt everything they saw—the flight to the States had been hard, in every sense of the word. Gwen had snuggled up next to Sabin, hour after hour, and he hadn’t been able to touch her the way he craved. And he wouldn’t, not in front of witnesses and not until she trusted him. Winning her heart and her trust was the most important battle of his life, and for once he’d decided not to rush it.

I will have her.

When they’d deplaned, Sabin, who was used to being around humans, having them stare at his height and muscled strength, hadn’t liked the way males had stared at his woman. Their desire had been obvious.

Drove him freaking insane. Which was why he’d allowed Doubt to swoop into those human minds and fill them with insecurities about their appearance, their prowess in bed—and why he’d been tempted to erupt into one of Maddox’s famous violent fits. He’d managed to control himself, keeping his eye on the prize: the safe return of his friends. But only because Gwen hadn’t seemed to notice the gaping, the drooling mouths, and the stopping dead in their tracks.

They’d immediately driven to the house the warriors had been staying at, a house miles from anything and everything. They’d watched it for a bit, ascertaining two things: one, the warriors weren’t there and two, Hunters hadn’t been there and planted little presents. Too bad about the lack of Hunters, if you asked Sabin. He was ready for action.

He and Gwen had loaded themselves with weapons, each grabbed a ball cap to hide their hair and shield their faces, and headed to the only other place he knew his friends would have gone. Now they walked the street in front of a row of buildings, and he knew he was close to the training facility, but…he couldn’t find it. Each building blended into the next. And each time he counted off, he lost track of their numbers.

Gwen paused and rubbed the back of her neck, staring up into the sky. “This is hopeless. We’re in the right place. Why can’t we find it?”

He sighed. Maybe it was time to bring out the big guns. If the god king would respond to him for once. “Cronus,” he muttered, “a little help would be nice. You want us to succeed, right?”

A moment passed, then another. Nothing happened.

He was just about to give up when suddenly Gwen gasped. “Look.”

Sabin followed her gaze, experienced a jolt of shock. There, on the roof of the building to their right, a building Sabin had somehow overlooked time and time again, stood the god king. The building seemed to shake beneath him. His white robe whipped around his ankles. After being ignored for so long, Sabin was being aided? And so easily?

“Now you owe me, Doubt, and I always collect.” Cronus disappeared a second later.

It would benefit Cronus for Sabin to win this day. The god should have been happy to aid the cause, not demanding favors in return.

“Who was that?” Gwen asked. “How did he do that? And do you think my…Galen is in there?”

Sabin explained about Cronus. “Galen…I don’t know. What if he is? Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes.” No hesitation this time, though there’d been an edge to her tone.

Was he asking too much of her? Sabin didn’t have parents. The Greeks had created him already fully formed. As there was no love lost between him and the former gods, he couldn’t even fathom a guess as to how Gwen was feeling.

“I’ll be fine,” she added, as if she read his thoughts. “After everything he’s done, he needs to be taken down.”

There at the end, her voice had trembled. Sabin decided then and there to intervene if Galen opted to join the fray—which wasn’t likely to happen as the bastard always cut and run, leaving his lackeys to do his dirty work. Hope placed himself before others, and always had. But Sabin didn’t want Gwen regretting anything; he didn’t want her to later blame him for her actions—or his own, he thought with a sinking stomach. He’d wondered before but couldn’t help doing so again: Would she hate him if he was the one to defeat and restrain her father?

Only two things mattered to Sabin right now: Gwen and his friends’ safety. In that order. She came first, now and always. Nothing would change that.

“Let’s do this,” she said softly, and trekked forward.

“Before we go in there,” he said, keeping pace beside her, “I want to tell you again that I love you. I love you so much I ache with it. I just…I wanted you to know in case anything happens.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.” She stumbled, caught herself. “But I love you, too. I do. There’s no denying that anymore. I’m still not sure about you, though. I, just, I don’t know. Doubt is like my pet now, and I like that. Really. I just—”

“It’s okay.” She loved him. Thank the gods, she loved him. He drew her to a halt and pulled her into his embrace, hating her words, but understanding nonetheless. He should have trusted her. From the beginning, he should have placed her first. “We’ll figure all of that out later. I promise. I don’t want any worries on your mind right now. Distractions can get you—”

“Killed,” she finished for him, smiling. “I paid attention to your lessons.” She tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head in the hollow of his neck. Her hair was soft against his skin. “You be careful in there.”

Gods, he adored this woman. Her strength, her courage, her wit. “You, too. Whatever you do, save yourself. Understand me?” he said fiercely. “I’d be lost without you.”

“I will.” She gave a half-amused, half-strained smile. “That’s Harpy code, after all.”

He kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him then, her lips puffy and red and he couldn’t resist. He meshed their mouths together, his tongue sweeping inside hers with a possessive thrust. Her hands lifted, tangling in his hair, and she moaned.

He swallowed the sound, savoring it, letting it fill him up. Here was his life, in his arms, all he needed. But he forced himself to pull away. “Come on. I want to get this over with so that you and I can talk. Why don’t you go through the front door, and I’ll take the back. We’ll scope out each entrance, meet in the middle.”

With another swift kiss to her mouth, Sabin started forward again. The sun burned bright, glaring down at him. He kept his face down, hoping he wouldn’t be recognized if cameras were scanning the area.

Can you do this?

Yes.

What if you fail?

I won’t.

What if Gwen is hurt?

She won’t be. He would make sure of it.

“Pick up the pace, slowpoke.” A slight breeze caressed his face as Gwen jumped into hyperdrive and passed him, her wings giving her a speed he could never hope to match. That didn’t stop him from trying, though. He didn’t want her in that building alone. He quickened his steps and raced around back. There he found a fence with spikes that stretched toward the sky and electric wires that circled every slat.

Usually he took his time and disabled such wires. Today, he didn’t have that luxury. He simply climbed. The shocks that worked through him would have killed a human. They were painful, stopped his heart twice, pushed the breath out of him continually, but he still didn’t slow. Up, up, he shimmied, until he was falling to the ground. His boots thumped into concrete, rattling him, and he took off in a run, already going for his guns.

It didn’t take him long to reach his first quarry. There were three Hunters seated at a round table, an umbrella shading them. Had they not felt the building shake? Their bad. Finally. The party could start.

“—pissed his pants,” one laughed.

“Should have seen his face when I shoved those spikes under his nails. And when I cut off his hands…” More laughter. “I hope he continues the silence. I’ve never had so much fun in my life.”

“Demons. They deserve this and more.”

Sabin’s heart sank even as his demon stirred. I want to play, Doubt said gleefully.

Have fun.

Needing no more encouragement, the demon swooped out of his mind and into theirs.

The other Lords are going to be angry. They’ll come for you, make you pay. Everything you’ve done to their brethren will be done to you—magnified by a thousand, I’m sure.

One of the men shuddered. “We know the other demons will come for their friends when they’ve healed from that last battle. Maybe we should, I don’t know, pack up soon.”

“I’m not a coward. I’m staying here and doing whatever’s necessary to pry information from our prisoners.”

Then you’ll be gutted like a fish, I bet.

Now the second speaker shuddered.

“Uh, guys. Save it. My beeper just vibrated. An alarm has been tripped. Either someone’s escaped or we’re under attack.”

They jumped to their feet. None of them had spotted Sabin yet. Silencer on—check. Chamber loaded—check. At one time, he would have drawn their attention, taunted them about their coming death and taken joy as they paled. Now, he simply shot them one after the other in the back of the head. They slumped in their chairs, what was left of their foreheads hitting the glass tabletop with a thump.

He kept moving, rounding the corner. A group of children were splashing around in a pool. One of the boys had a hand extended, water rising and balancing above it.

“Throw it at me,” a little girl implored. “See if it can get through my shielding spell.”

With a laugh, the boy tossed the water at the girl. Not a single drop touched her.

Sabin had suspected they would be here, but was still shocked to see them. Despite their unusual abilities, they were just children. How could the Hunters use them like this? Place them in such danger?

Sabin replaced one of his semiautomatics with a tranq gun. He didn’t want to do this, but it was the best—and safest—solution for everyone involved. What was Gwen doing? Was she inside? Hurt? Without pause, he began nailing the kids with darts. One by one, they sank into unconsciousness. He quickly dragged them out of the water and laid them in the shade, never once releasing his weapons.

Finally, he was ready to enter the house. To help Gwen.

“You filthy animal! What have you done?”

Sabin whipped around. A Hunter had just taken aim at him, fired. A bullet slammed into his right shoulder. Wincing, he hammered out another round from his Sig. One bullet hit the Hunter’s neck, the other his chest. He slumped over, gasping. When his skull cracked against the ground, the gasping stopped.

Bleeding, unconcerned by the pain, Sabin rushed inside the building, sheathing the tranq in favor of the second semiautomatic. Already Hunters littered the floor, motionless. Gwen. Sabin’s heart swelled with pride. Maybe it was wrong of him, but he really loved her dark side. She was magic on a battlefield.

He followed the trail of adult bodies through the winding hallways. Some of the rooms were bedrooms with multiple bunk beds, some were classrooms. There were tiny desks and artwork on the walls; every single piece showed a demon being tortured. There were even signs. A perfect world is a world without demons. When the demons are gone, there will be no sickness, no death. No evil. Lost someone you love? You know who to blame.

Oh, yes. The children were being trained to hate the Lords from birth. Fabulous. Sabin had done some bad shit in his life, but never had he taught hatred to an innocent.

“Bastard!” he heard Gwen shout, followed by a howl of pain.

Increasing his speed, Sabin followed the sound, saw a man hunched over and grabbing his crotch. He didn’t know what had happened and he didn’t care to stop and ask. He simply aimed his Sig and fired three rounds. No one hurt Gwen.

Gwen whirled around, claws bared. Those tiny wings fluttered madly under her shirt. The death-glaze faded when she realized who stood before her. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“I found your friends. They’re hurt, but alive. I released them, but two are missing. Gideon and Anya.”

First—she’d already found and released them? Holy hell. She was faster and better than even he had known. Second—where the hell were the others? Locked up? “Anya?” he shouted. “Gideon?”

“Sabin? Sabin, is that you?” a woman called from down the hall. Anya. “It’s about damn time. I’m back here. With a guard.”

Sabin looked at Gwen just as three males flew into the room, their expressions wild. “Got ’em?” he asked.

“Go on.” She faced the newest challenge. “Get Anya.”

He took off in a run. He would have left any of his men, and Gwen was a better fighter than all of them put together, so he had no doubt of her success. No doubt. The thought made him smile.

As he moved, he exchanged a gun for a blade. He was almost out of bullets. Thankfully, a knife never needed refilling. Where are you, Anya? He burst through one door—empty. He shouldered his way through another, hinges splintering. Nothing. Three more rooms, and there she was, eyeing a little boy, both her shoulders stained crimson.

That boy turned to him, expression determined. There was something…off about him, as though he wasn’t three-dimensional.

“Sabin!” When Anya darted to one side, the boy quickly followed, swiping out an arm.

“I have to keep her here,” he said, but he didn’t sound happy about it.

Slowly Sabin sheathed his blade and reached behind him, curling his fingers around the handle of the tranq gun.

“Don’t touch him,” Anya rushed out, “and don’t let him touch you. You’ll go down without warning.”

“Anya!”

Sabin recognized the voice as Death’s, so he didn’t turn as footsteps approached. He kept his gaze on the boy, ready to jump at him despite Anya’s warning if he went after the goddess again.

“Lucien! Stay back, baby, but tell me you’re okay?” Anya’s face lit with a mixture of pleasure and worry. “I have to know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. You? Oh, gods.” Lucien came up behind him and sucked in a breath. Sabin could feel waves of fury pulsing off him. “Your shoulders.”

“Just a little scratch.” There was fire in the words, a promise of retribution.

Keeping his hand behind his back, Sabin held the tranq out to Lucien. “Not sure it’ll do any good, but I’m going to leave you to it. Gideon’s still missing.” The warrior took the weapon without a word, and Sabin spun on his heel.

He continued bursting into rooms. Several were padded. One was filled with computers and other technology. One was stuffed with enough canned food to last a lifetime. Down another hall he turned, shouting Gideon’s name. These rooms had thicker locks and fingerprint IDs. Heart pounding, Sabin pressed his ear to each door until he finally, blessedly heard a whimper.

Gideon.

Urgency flooding him, he pried at the slit in the center. His muscles strained, his bones nearly popped out of joint, his wound reopened, but he worked the edge until the metal opened enough to squeeze through. First thing he noticed was the broken and bleeding form strapped to a gurney. A sickening sense of déjà vu hit him.

He crossed the distance, bile rising in his throat. Gideon’s eyelids were so swollen it looked as if rocks were buried underneath them. Bruises colored every inch of his naked body. Many of his bones were broken and protruding through skin.

Both of his hands had been chopped off.

“They’ll grow back, I swear to the gods they’ll grow back,” Sabin whispered as he pulled at the bonds. They were strong. Too strong, comprised of some sort of—godly? — metal. He couldn’t even hack through them with a blade.

“Key. Not there.” Gideon’s voice was so weak, Sabin barely heard it. But the warrior motioned to a cabinet with a tilt of his chin. Sure enough, a key dangled there. “Didn’t taunt me…with it.”

“Save your strength, my friend.” He spoke gently, but rage was pouring through him, consuming him, becoming the only thing he knew. Those bastards were going to pay for this. Every single one of them and a thousand times over. He needed to be punished as well, he thought. He’d sworn never to let this kind of thing happen to his comrade again, yet here they were, practically reliving the past.

When Gideon was free, Sabin gently gathered him in his arms and carried him into the hall. Strider had been in the process of turning the corner, pale and trembling and stumbling. When the warrior spotted Sabin’s bundle, he released a savage cry.

“Is he…”

“He’s alive.” Barely.

“Thank the gods. Lucien’s got Anya. He managed to tranq the kid guarding her. Reyes is somewhere in back. Stefano’s called for retreat, but you’ll never believe who’s stuck around.”

At the moment, Sabin didn’t care. “Have you seen Gwen?”

“Yeah. Down the hall and to the right.” Strider gulped. “I’ve been searching for you. I’ll take Gideon. You go help your woman.”

Dread instantly mixed with his rage as Sabin carefully handed Gideon over. “Did something happen to her?”

“Just go.”

He ran, arms pumping, legs shaking, until he reached the chamber where he’d left her. She was still there, but she was no longer fighting human Hunters. She was fighting her father. And she was losing.

Guess who stuck around, Strider had said. Of all the times for the bastard to grow some balls. Gwen was winded, panting, bloody, stumbling every time she lashed out as though her legs could no longer hold her weight. Galen had a long snakelike whip. No, not snakelike. It was a snake. Hissing, teeth gleaming with venom. And every time Gwen managed to cut off the snake’s head, another grew in its place.

“The big, strong Lords of the Underworld, relying on a woman. And they call me the coward,” Galen sneered.

“I’m not just any woman,” Gwen gritted out. “I’m a Harpy.”

“As if that makes a difference.”

“It should. I’m also a half demon. Don’t you recognize me?” She closed in despite the snake chomping on her calf and slashed for the warrior’s heart.

“Should I? All their women look the same to me. Filthy whores.” He expertly dodged, jerking the whip out of her and making her cry out before cracking it again. This time it coiled around her wrist. He gave another tug. Once more she cried out. She fell to her knees, her entire body spasming.

Sabin couldn’t watch this. Couldn’t let the bastard destroy Gwen, no matter how much Gwen might resent him for interfering. “Leave her alone. I’m the one you want.” Teeth gnashing, he withdrew several daggers and tossed all but one at the whip, severing its hold on Gwen. He threw the last at Galen, nailing him in the stomach. The warrior roared, fell, and Gwen lumbered to her feet.

Sabin jumped in front of her, blocking her from the crouching Galen. “Finally ready to do this? To admit defeat?”

Scowling, Galen pulled the knife from his gut. “You really think you’re strong enough to best me?”

“I already have. We’ve plowed through most of your forces.” He was grinning as he palmed and aimed his Sig. “All that remains is your imprisonment. And it looks like that won’t be too difficult to obtain.”

“Stop it. Just stop it.” Gwen staggered to a halt in front of him, shoulders squared. She swayed, but didn’t fall, her gaze locked on Galen. “I don’t want you taken until you hear what I have to say. I’ve waited for this day my entire life, dreamed of telling you that I’m the daughter of Tabitha Skyhawk. That I’m twenty-seven years old, and thought to be sired by an angel.”

Galen laughed as he stood, but that laugh couldn’t hide his wince. He was bleeding profusely now. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“You tell me. About twenty-eight years ago, you slept with a Harpy,” Gwen said. “She had red hair and brown eyes. She was injured. You patched her up. Then you left but said you’d be back.”

His lingering smirk faded as he studied her. “And?” He didn’t sound as if he cared, but he didn’t try to escape when he’d clearly lost the battle, either.

Gwen’s entire body trembled, and Sabin’s rage darkened. “And the past has a way of catching up with people, doesn’t it? So, surprise. Here I am.” She splayed her arms. “Your long-lost daughter.”

“No.” Galen shook his head. At least his amusement didn’t return. “You’re lying. I would have known.”

“Because you would have gotten a birth announcement?” Now Gwen laughed, the sound tinged with darkness.

“No,” he repeated. “It’s impossible. I’m no one’s father.”

Behind them, the battle was winding down. The screams were stopping, the grunts fading. No more gunshots. No more pounding footsteps. Then the rest of the Lords were filling the doorway, each wearing expressions of hate and fury. Each dripping in blood. Strider still carried Gideon, as if afraid to set him down.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here,” Lucien growled.

“Not so tough without a child around to shield you, Hope?” Anya laughed.

“Tonight I’ll dine on your black heart,” Reyes snarled.

Sabin studied the grim set of his friends’ faces. These warriors had been tortured, and they weren’t done exacting their revenge. Much as he sympathized, though, he couldn’t let them have it yet.

“Galen is ours,” Sabin told them. “Stay back. Gwen?”

GWEN KNEW what Sabin was asking. Allow him to imprison her father, or let her father go. That he was leaving the choice up to her proved his love as nothing else could have. If only she could give him what he wanted.

“I–I don’t know,” she said, voice cracking. Peering into those sky-eyes, eyes she’d once only dreamed about, she was struck anew with the knowledge that her father was here, in front of her, that he represented everything she’d ever wanted as a little girl and then as an adult, while she’d been trapped in that cell in Egypt. How often had she yearned to be held and protected by him?

He hadn’t known about her. Now that he did, would he love her? Would he want her with him, as she’d craved all those years?

Galen eyed the warriors glaring at him menacingly. “Perhaps I spoke too soon. We will talk, you and I. Privately.” He stepped forward and reached out to her.

Sabin snarled, and it was the type of sound a beast made just before it flew into attack. “You can leave, if she allows it, but you don’t touch her. Ever.”

For several seconds, it looked as if Galen would argue. The Lords certainly were. They wanted this man in chains and didn’t like that Sabin had offered him freedom.

“No child of mine would choose to be with the Lords of the Underworld.” Galen held out his hand and waved his fingers at her. “Come with me. We will leave, get to know each other.”

Did he truly wish to learn about her or did he simply hope to use her as another weapon against his hated enemies? The suspicion hurt, and Gwen found herself grabbing Sabin’s gun, barrel aimed at Galen’s head. “No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Sabin hated him. This man had done cruel things. Would continue to do cruel things.

“You would kill your own father?” Galen asked, clutching his heart as if she’d truly injured his feelings.

In her mind, he was suddenly wrapping his arms around her, holding her close, telling her how much he loved her. Hope. It was there, in her chest, blooming through her entire body. Did it stem from him? Or from herself?

“You were so quick to dismiss me,” she gritted out. “You said you had no children.”

“I was merely in shock,” he explained patiently. “Absorbing the news. After all, it’s not every day a man is given the priceless gift of fatherhood.”

Her hand trembled.

“Your mother…Tabitha. I remember. She was the most beautiful sight I’d ever beheld, or have since. I wanted her instantly and meant to keep her, but she left me. I was never able to find her. Had I known about you, I would have desired a place in your life.”

Truth or lie? She lifted her chin even as her arm fell. Maybe there was good in him. Maybe he could be saved. Maybe not. But…“Go.”

He reached for her.

“Go,” she repeated, a hot tear streaming down her cheek.

“Daughter…”

“I said go!”

Suddenly his wings jerked into motion, spreading, fast, too fast, flapping, wind gusting around them. Before anyone could blink, he burst up, through the ceiling and out of the building.

Unable to hold back any longer, the other warriors fired at him, even tossed their blades. Someone must have nailed him, because there was a howl. It wasn’t too bad an injury, though, because Galen didn’t fall back inside. Gwen hated herself for the relief she felt.

The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, blending with muttered curses, stomping footsteps.

“Not again,” Strider groaned, finally placing Gideon on the floor. “Why would you do that, Sabin? Why would you let her do that?” A second later, the hulking warrior was beside his friend, writhing in agony.

Sabin’s hesitation had given Galen the chance to escape, and Galen’s escape had meant defeat for the Lords. Defeat for Strider. My fault, she thought. She’d just proven Sabin right. She couldn’t be trusted with his greatest enemy. She’d hesitated to do what was needed.

“I’m sorry,” Sabin said to his friend.

I’ll make it up to him. Somehow, some way. She spun, meaning to grab on to him and make him listen to her apology. Instead, she gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. I’ll heal. How are you?” His gaze raked her, taking in every bruise and cut. A muscle ticked below his eye. “I should have taken him down when I had the chance. He hurt you.”

“I’ll heal,” she said, parroting him as she threw herself into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

He grunted, even as he kissed the top of her head. “I love you. There’s nothing to forgive, darling.”

“I wimped out. I let your greatest enemy go. I—”

“No, no, no. I’m not letting you blame yourself for this. I let him go.” He cupped her jaw. “Now tell me what I want to hear. What I need to hear.”

“I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, his relief palpable. “We’re staying together.”

“Yes. If you’ll have me.”

“What do you mean, if I’ll have you? I told you, you’re first in my life.”

“I know.” Slowly her lashes lifted and then she was peering up at him, tears now streaming freely down her cheeks. “You gave up a victory for me. I can’t believe you did that.”

“I would give up anything, everything for you.”

“You really do love me. You mean it. Won’t grow to hate me, won’t let war come between us.”

“Is that what’s been worrying you?” He snorted. “Darling, I could have told you those things.”

“But I wouldn’t have believed you. I thought winning was the most important thing in your life.”

“No. That’s you.”

She smiled radiantly up at him. But that smile faded as the murmurs of the other Lords filled her ears, reminding her of what she’d done. Or hadn’t done. “I should have told you to lock him away forever. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He needs to be stopped, I know that, but there at the end, I just couldn’t bring myself…couldn’t let you…I’m so sorry. Now he’s going to cause even more trouble.”

“It’s all right. It’s all right. We’ll deal with it. We’ve severely handicapped their army.”

“Not sure how much good that will do us. Galen found Distrust,” Anya said. “He’s trying to place the demon inside someone else’s body, hoping to create an immortal soldier he can control. He was pretty confident about his success.”

Distrust, once Sabin’s best friend, Gwen remembered. If Distrust were on her father’s side, would Sabin be able to hurt whichever body it resided in? No matter what kind of destruction that person inflicted. She didn’t want her man faced with the same type of decision she’d just had to make.

Sabin smoothed a hand through her damp hair. “I don’t know what I’d do,” he said as if he’d read her thoughts. “But I do now understand how difficult your decision must have been. If you need that bastard free to make you happy, then free he’ll stay.”

“Hey,” several of the warriors muttered behind him.

“We get a say in that,” Reyes growled, rifling through the pockets of the fallen Hunters.

Gwen sighed. “I’ll come to terms with his capture, I know I will. Seeing him for the first time was just too shocking to process. Don’t worry, though. Next time I’ll do better.”

“Yeah, but worrying is what I do best.”

“Not anymore. Loving me is what you do best.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Let’s go home,” she said, squeezing him tight. “We’ve got some kids to soothe, artifacts to find, Hunters to kill and a box to destroy. After you love the breath out of me, of course.”