The Darkest Surrender (27 page)

“We’re together,” he growled, and his hard tone left no room for doubt.
Just try and leave. See what happens.

Her mouth fell open, revealing those lovely white teeth, minus the fangs. “We are?”

“We are.”

“
All
the way?”

“All the way. I’m your consort and you’re my woman. Just mine. Do I need to wear a ring or something? Do you?” He recalled the medallions her mother and a few other Harpies had been wearing. Recalled, too, that he’d wanted to talk to her about them. “Or maybe a medallion?”

“No,” she croaked. “No rings, no medallions. Those are for warriors and mine was taken from me after…you know.”

No wonder she’d been so upset at the sight of Juliette wearing one. Well, Kaia would get her own and hers would be
the best.
Like her consort.
Ego check.
“So we’re officially going steady?”

Disappointment clouded her delicate features and damn if tears didn’t pool in her eyes. “Yes. Until the end of the games, I know.”

Whether his admission would distract her or not, he had to tell her. He couldn’t let her wallow like this. “After the games, too. And if anyone needs forgiveness, it’s me, for pushing you away as long and as harshly as I did.” As he spoke, those eyes got bigger and bigger, wetter and wetter. “I’m sorry for that, I am.” He traced her mouth with his thumb. “Believe me, I will regret that forever. Because…damn it, Kaia, I love you.”

Defeat seemed to freeze inside his head, not daring to move as he listened to the conversation. If Kaia didn’t say those words back, the demon would…what?

Don’t care.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Strider went on.
I’ll win her heart.
And he wanted to do it
without
the demon’s influence. Otherwise, Kaia would never believe the feelings were his own and not born from his need for victory. “In fact, I don’t want you to say anything right now. We’ll huddle up about this after the games.”

She blinked, but gave no other indication that she’d
heard what he’d said. “Huddle up? As if we’re playing a few rounds of football?”

See? She would never let him get away with anything. “You’re allowed to show a little joy about what I said, you know,” he grumbled.

Her lips pursed before quickly smoothing, as if she didn’t want to reveal a single hint of what she felt. “I can’t.”

“You
can’t?
”

Defeat growled, liking her response even less than Strider did.

Finally emotion peeked through Kaia’s expressionless mask and he saw a mix of fear and hope. “I love you, too, I think. I mean, I’ve never let myself consider feeling something deeper then lust, but I’ve never burned for anyone the way I burn for you. But what if I fail you? I won’t deserve you and I’ll have to let you go. You’ll
want
me to let you go. What if—”

He kissed her, long and hard, filling her mouth with his tongue and his taste, and demanding a response. She gave it to him, gripping his head and stealing his breath. Hearing the words
I love you,
even with her uncertainty accompanying them…damn. He was more revved now then he’d been seconds before getting inside her.

She. Loved. Him. No question. She might not have worked it out in her mind yet, but she loved him and the knowledge slayed him.
Slayed. Him.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d longed for her love until that moment.

He was king of the freaking world, man.

Defeat got his moan on.

Strider forced himself to end the kiss and rolled to his side. Kaia tried to crawl up his body, tried to finish what they’d started, but a tight grip on her waist locked her at his side. Sex, yeah, they’d go again, but apparently they had to get a few things straight first.

“You are not Kaia the Disappointment. Do you hear me? That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier. You are Kaia the Mighty. How many Harpies out there do you think could have brought down the most badass Lord of the Underworld? The same Lord who also happens to be the strongest, sexiest and smartest. And by the way, in case there’s any doubt, I’m describing me.”

“I know.” Tears leaked from her eyes and onto his chest, so hot they left little welts on his skin. “Only me?”

“That’s right. Only you. Now, challenge me to stay with you.”

She arched like a bow against him, taut fury making her stiff. “No!”

“Kaia—”

“No. I won’t do it. I don’t care what you say. You have to stay of your own free will. Not because you don’t want to be struck with that god-awful pain from your demon.”

He didn’t want her afraid he’d leave her at any moment, though. “Do it and I’ll give you another orgasm.”

Slowly she relaxed. “Well…”

Her cell phone beeped, startling them both. Then
his
cell phone beeped. One they could have ignored. But both? Something had happened. They jolted up in unison.

“I bet the competition is over. My gods, my sisters. How could I have forgotten about them?” She scrambled to her discarded clothing and rifled through her shorts pockets.

He found his cell and they popped the screens at the same time. She gasped. He grunted. Then they peered over at each other, silent.

“Tell me your news first,” he said.

“They won.” She sounded dazed and unsure. “They won first place this round. They’re injured, but alive and healing. They also managed to disqualify the Skyhawks. Meaning we’re now on equal footing with my mother.”

“That’s great.” He frowned when he saw the new flood of tears tracking down her cheeks. “Right?”

“Right.” A firm nod. “My family is alive and they brought home the victory we needed. I’m so happy I could burst.”

“But?”

Her shoulders sagged. “But they did it without me,” she whispered, clearly agonized. “I didn’t help. They don’t need me. I’m a hindrance. They lose when I help, but win when I don’t.”

His chest constricted. “Baby doll, just because they won without you doesn’t mean you’re a hindrance. That just means they were better prepared this go-round.”

Silent, she dressed. He sighed and joined her, tugging on his own clothing.

“Sabin and the angels found Rhea,” he said, even though she hadn’t asked. “Or rather, they found where the goddess was supposed to be. She left in a hurry, they think, and she left days, maybe even weeks ago. Her clothes were thrown all over the place, there were white feathers on the floor and dust on everything.”

“Feathers. Galen?”

He nodded. “Sabin said there are no tracks, so it’ll be impossible to hunt either one of them from here. They must have flashed somewhere.”

“But…why host one of the competitions here if she couldn’t watch?”

“Maybe her absence was unexpected. Maybe she’d planned to be here, but something stopped her.”

“And the Hunters?”

“Maybe she issued orders to kill you before she took off, or maybe someone else was leading them.”

Kaia straightened, peered at him, head tilting to the side as she pondered. “There’s only one person I know who
hates me enough to—” She frowned. She’d taken two steps toward him but now stopped abruptly and looked down at her feet. “I’m stuck. Strider, I’m stuck!”

He tried to move toward her—but couldn’t. Just like hers, his feet were glued in place. He, too, looked down and frowned. The cave floor was…thinning? Yes, that’s exactly what it was doing. Thinning, losing its rigidity, turning to…mist.

In a desperate bid to hold on to his woman, he reached out. Just before contact, they fell in unison, whooshing down…down…

Down.

K
ANE AWOKE SLOWLY
,
THOUGH
he gave no indication the synapses in his brain were kinda, maybe firing again. He’d gone to sleep in pain, drugged, and sadly, that had happened many times before in the past few…days? Weeks? He’d trained himself to come out of a stupor and take stock before moving a muscle or uttering a word.

He ached like a boxer who’d just lost the big match after going eighteen rounds. Though many of his injuries had already begun to heal, the deepest of them still etched his name in the May Not Recover book of regrets. And wouldn’t you know? His demon loved it, every bit of it, giggling inside his head, soaking up the effects of the catastrophe—then and now.

Kane had a beefy guard on each arm, holding him up, dragging him down a long, winding cave that smelled of sulfur and decay, human feces and acrid fear. He tried not to gag. He knew the scents well, his demon having cohabited with them for centuries.

There was also a guard in front of him and five behind him. None of them gave any sign they knew he’d awoken.

As he planned an escape—picturing angels swooping in (not gonna happen), his friends busting through caves walls (again, a no-go) and him turning green and hulking (only in his dreams)—fury flash flooded him. He wouldn’t have to do anything. In the end, his demon would destroy
these humans. Disaster lived for moments such as this. And if Kane died in the process, so what?

He remembered the explosion, remembered William being wheeled away from him and tossed into a different vehicle. William. Was the immortal alive? Being tortured? Probably. The fury intensified. These men would pay. No matter what.

You hear me, Disaster? They need to pay.

The giggling became a gleeful laugh that razed the entire circumference of his skull.

Wait for my signal.
None of the guards had any idea about the devastation they were soon to face. And they wouldn’t. Until it was too late.

When his leader, Sabin, took off to battle Hunters, Kane was often left behind. Too many little disasters ruined their efforts, even sabotaged them. But sometimes…sometimes Kane was sent in alone. When that happened, no one walked away.

“—too heavy,” one of the guards was panting. “Let’s just leave him here.”

“Can’t. Doctor’s orders. We transport him to the gate, or we don’t come back.”

“I’m sweating like a pig.”

“You
are
a pig. BBQ much, you fat bastard? The walk is doing your tub of lard body some good.”

“Eat shit and die, asshole. I have a glandular condition.”

“I’m with Duane. He sweats any more,” someone else said, “and he’s liable to burst a vessel or something. He won’t make it back, gate or not.”

The temperature
was
a bit uncomfortable, the humidity so thick you practically needed a knife to cut through it. They were clearly hauling him deeper into the earth, closing in on the gate to…hell? But how would Hunters know how to do that?
Why
would they do that? That wasn’t their usual M.O.

Capture, torture and now kill to steal the demon from inside him,
that
was what they lived for. This made no sense. Made him uneasy, as if he might not be dealing with who he thought he was dealing with.

He wasn’t going to take time to question them. They’d proven their intentions when they’d pulled their little “look at my pretty bomb” routine. He just had to figure out the best place for his demon to work. Their final destination, most likely—in more ways than one. The “gate.” The deeper they were, the less likely innocents were to be in the way.

In the distance, he heard the click of a hammer being cocked. No one around him seemed to notice. The guards continued chattering. Was someone about to shoot Kane? Or the guards? His demon prowled through his skull, ready to act, to destroy something, someone.

Not yet. Not yet.

The laughter grew in volume. Pretty soon, Disaster would strike, no matter what Kane did or said.

If the gunshot
was
meant for him, he’d survive. But he didn’t want to act just in case his friends were here to rescue him. Hope blasted him. When the
crack
reverberated, his guard grunted. Kane’s left side was released, sagging toward the ground. The guard on his right cursed. The chatter ceased. “What the—”

“Who was—”

Another
crack.

Kane’s right side was released as well and he smacked into the dirt-laden floor. He lay still, even when a heavy weight slammed into him, pushing the air from his lungs in one mighty heave. One of his guards, he thought, was now unconscious, probably dead.

Yep. Warm liquid pooled on his back, dripping down his sides.

Crack, crack, crack.
There was no time for the men around him to prepare or hide. They fell, lifeblood gushing from the bullet holes in their chests, ending them. The entire gunfight lasted less than a minute, over and done without any resistance.

A rescue, yes, but still he didn’t move or speak. He simply waited. Cautious…

Footsteps pounded. He recognized the heavy thud of boots.

“You see him?” someone called. A male, unfamiliar.

Shit! Hope withered, died. Not his friends. So who the hell did that leave?

“I got him! He’s here.”

The guard was rolled off him.

“He alive?”

A rustle of clothing, then hard fingers were digging into his neck. “Yep, sure is. Maybe not for long. His pulse is thready, so we’ll have to act fast.”

“That doctor is one lucky bitch. If he’d died before we got here…” Rage and hate layered the man’s voice. “I might knock her around, anyway, for disobeying her orders.”

“No, you won’t. She’s not one of us, and besides, her hubby would have your head. Let’s just take the guy to Stefano and let
him
decide what to do.”

Stefano. Galen’s right-hand man, a Hunter top dog, and an all around pain in the ass. Too bad the bastard wasn’t here. But just like that, Kane began to understand. Hunters had blown up the house. Hunters had taken him to that female doctor, who was not a Hunter but married to one, ensuring he survived. Hunters had not had him carried down here. The female had, against her husband’s orders.

The husband must have found out and killed her accomplices.

“Demon animal,” the guy who’d checked his pulse
muttered as he straightened. A booted foot slammed into Kane’s stomach, rubbing a few of his organs against his spine.

Kane willed his eyelids to remain shut. Willed his muscles to remain lax. Meanwhile, Disaster churned in his head, now a seething cauldron.
Not yet,
he repeated. If they planned to cart him to Stefano, he could finally, at long last, destroy the bastard, taking out as many of his enemy as possible—even if it meant taking out himself, too. That’s what he’d planned to do here, anyway. A change of location hardly mattered on that score.

Of course, when Kane kicked it, his body would no longer be able to contain the evil inside him and his demon would be unleashed upon an unsuspecting world. Disaster would escape, crazed, hungry, desperate to create tragedy after tragedy.

That had happened to Kane’s friend, Baden. He’d died—beheaded by Hunters—and his demon, Distrust, had roamed the earth unfettered. Perhaps that was why nations had fought each other for so long. They always suspected the other of foul deeds and even fouler intentions. Perhaps that was why so many marriages had failed over the years.

Then, not long ago, the Hunters had somehow managed to find Distrust and pair the demon with a new host, one of their choosing. A female. She had yet to challenge the Lords, probably still too lost to the evil inside her to do more than moan and writhe and beg for relief.

“Diego?” someone muttered.

“Yeah,” a man with a slight Spanish accent replied.

“You ready?”

“Yes, sir.” There was a nervous tremor to the words.

“Markov, Sanders, hold his arms. Just in case he wakes up before he dies. Billy, cut deep and cut fast. There’s no room for error.”

“I’m not stupid. We’ve gone over this a thousand times,” was the belligerent reply from the man who’d kicked Kane.

“Yes, we have, but this is go time, our one and only chance. If we aren’t careful, his demon will escape the cave before Diego can absorb it.”

O-kay. There would be no waiting, no reaching Stefano, Kane decided. They were going to murder him and try and pair his demon with a Hunter, thinking to control Disaster and use the demon to fight for their cause. To destroy his friends. To rule the world.

Cue evil overlord laugh,
Kane thought dryly, then sobered. This was serious business.

Get ready,
he told his demon.

The churning quickened, quickened, and the entire cave shook. Just a little. Just enough to cause dust to plume in the air and pebbles to fall from the ceiling, thudding on the ground.

“What’s that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just hurry. Let’s get this done. Knife?”

“Here.”

Strong hands suddenly gripped Kane’s arms and flipped him over so that he was lying on his back. Those same hands pushed, hard, pinning him in place. Kane didn’t wait a second longer.

Now!

The shaking increased swiftly, the falling pebbles becoming falling boulders.
Boom, boom. Boom!
Someone screamed in pain. Kane was released. There was another scream, a round of curses.

Finally, Kane opened his eyes. Just in time, too. A boulder was heading straight for him. He rolled out of the way, coughing as his mouth filled with dirt and debris. The abrupt movement tore the stitches riding the curve of a rib.

His gaze panned his surroundings in one swoop. He was in a cave, just as he’d suspected, though it was more
spacious than he would have believed possible, branching in several different directions. No wonder the Hunters had so easily overpowered his original captors. Not even an army could protect itself from ambush here. There were too many places to hide.

The Hunters scrambled for cover. The shaking continued and the rocks rained down. Another scream, a grunt. The crunch of breaking bone.

Kane lumbered to his feet.
That’s the way, buddy. Keep at it.

“Don’t let him escape,” someone shouted.

“Got him in my sights!”

Crack.

A sharp pain lanced through his leg. A dark curse left him. Someone had shot him. He hurried to one of the darkened enclaves, dodging the boulders along the way. More shaking, more boulders. Soon he would be trapped. If he wasn’t already. But there was no way to stop a disaster of this magnitude once it had started.

He honestly didn’t mind the prospect of dying. He’d almost died a thousand times before and had long ago prepared himself for the eventuality. At least he was taking these Hunters with him. Not that Kane would give up without
trying
to save himself. His warrior instinct would allow nothing less.

He searched the shadows for a way out…saw the barest crack of light to the right. Not stopping to think, he dove for it, jerking at the rocks, widening the airy space, ignoring the twinges of pain shooting through him.

“Kane!”

William? He stilled, stiffened. Shit. Shit! If he killed his friend…

Crack.

“Human!” William shouted angrily. Someone must have shot at him. “You’re gonna hurt for that.”

Boom, boom, boom.

“Get out of here,” Kane shouted. “Run!”

“Kane, damn it! Where are you? I didn’t knock Nurse Ratchet out and travel all the way down here to my least favorite place just to play hide-and-seek with you. Get your ass over here!”

Kane pushed to his feet, inhaling more dust. He raced out of the safety of the enclosure—just in time to see William grab a Hunter by the throat. He wasn’t paying attention and didn’t see the massive rock descending on him.

And because Kane was watching William,
he
didn’t see the massive rock descending on
him.

“S
WEET SUNRISE
,
THAT
was amazing.”

Paris rolled away from the grinning, panting female and her glistening sweat-sheened body to peer up at the ceiling. As he’d hoped, Arca hated Cronus and hadn’t minded betraying the god king. As he’d dreaded, she’d had a price— Paris’s body, his demon’s scent arousing her the moment he stepped inside her chamber.

He’d just spent the past hour pleasuring her in a way he was sure she’d never been pleasured. She had enjoyed every second of his attention, while he had loathed himself, his actions.

You do what you have to do.

He hadn’t had to worry about interruptions. The spacious bedroom was hidden in the back of the harem. A bedroom Arca couldn’t leave. Cronus had actually cursed her so that she would experience utter, absolute agony if she stepped outside the spacious boundaries of her “home.” And having learned from the mortals and their mistakes, the king had ensured there were no windows for the goddess to utilize.

Clearly, the king had thought it was better to deprive
Arca of sunlight and fresh air than to chop off her long, silky hair.

She propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at him, white braids draped over her shoulder. “Well?”

“Yes, that was indeed amazing,” he said automatically, as he’d said to a thousand others.

Her smile slowly waned. “You could at least
try
to sound convincing.”

Sighing, he studied her. He’d been with countless others over the centuries, and she was by far the loveliest. But appearances mattered little to him. What was a beautiful face when a monster could very well lurk beneath? All that mattered was how the other person made you feel, inside and out.

He doubted Arca was a monster inside. She had spent so many years in captivity, both on earth and here in the heavens, that she
should
have been warped, a shrew at the very least, but when he’d strolled inside, she hadn’t yelled at him. Hadn’t fought him. She had peered at him with wide blue eyes, clasped his hands and smiled, so lonely and desperate for attention, any attention, that she’d caused his chest to constrict.