Lords of the Underworld Bundle (71 page)

“You have to hide, baby. Please. I can't lose you, too.”

Glass shattered in another room.

Danika gasped, snapping out of that numbing rage, her heart missing a beat and squeezing painfully.

“What's wrong?” her mom demanded.

“I think they found me,” she whispered on a trembling breath. “Hide, Mom. Wherever you are, run and hide. I love you.” Fighting terror-induced paralysis, she dropped the phone and stood to stiff legs. Oh, God. Her grandmother was most likely dead, and now she had been found. Weaponless.
You knew better. Think, think!
Legs shaking, stomach churning, she raced back into the bathroom and reached for the razor she kept on the sink.

Through the open door she could see a tall, muscled man stalk through the hallway, his wings scraping against the walls like fingers over a chalkboard. She nearly collapsed. Aeron. Aeron had found her. She remembered him well. His violent tattoos, his piercing gaze. If Reyes haunted her dreams, Aeron embodied her nightmares. He wasn't human, could fly like the dragons of myth, and was as fierce and deadly as any warrior of legend.

He paused in front of the bathroom doorway, sniffed the air. Blood spattered his face and stained his hands. Her grandmother's?

Do something!
Danika shocked herself by lunging for him, razor swinging for his throat.
No killer instinct?
She slashed at his jugular. If she failed to kill him, he would be free to attack her mother and sister—and that she wouldn't allow.
Contact.
Fresh blood instantly poured from the wound.

He didn't go down. He didn't fucking go down!

He turned toward her, grasping his neck and growling. His eyes blazed with red fire, and his teeth were elongated and snapping at her.

She held up the now-dripping razor. “Want some more? Bastard!” she screamed. “Come and get it!”

“Kill,” he roared. He grabbed her hair, jerking her forward.

Her nose smacked into his chest. A scream bubbled in her throat, but she quickly cut it off.
First rule of combat: stay calm.

She allowed her legs to slacken and he lost his hold on her hair, several strands ripping free. She rolled to her back, curled her body and slammed her feet up and into his stomach. He stumbled backward with a hiss and smacked into the coffee table. Wood and glass shattered. He fell.

Always go for the throat,
her instructor said in her mind.
Best way to render them helpless.
Eyes slitted, Danika climbed to her knees, closed the distance between them and punched him in the throat—right where she'd cut him—opening the wound further.

Rage built inside her to a desperate degree, and she punched him again.

He growled at her with those teeth so sharp they gleamed. “Kill. Kill, kill, kill.”

“Fuck you.” Punch. Dear God. She could see the outline of something under his face. Something…dangerous, evil. A skeleton, a demon. It snarled at her, a bony mask of hate and darkness.

“Kill.”

She tried to punch him again, but he grabbed her hand and squeezed. That was it, just a simple squeeze, yet she felt some of the bones snap. A cry of pain escaped her.

And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Reyes burst through the front door and rush into the room. He was a blur of dark hair, dark skin and dark, furious eyes. His daggers were raised and he was panting, sweating.

“Reyes!” she shouted as Aeron stood, driving her to her back as he continued to squeeze her hand. Part of her wanted to sag in relief. Part of her wanted to run from him, too.

You can't rely on him. He helped kidnap you.

He saw her and froze. “Danika.” He gasped her name with such reverence she was nearly felled.

Think of your mother. Your sister.
She arched up and kicked Aeron in the jaw. Finally he released her hand. God, the pain. Her fingers were limp; she couldn't move them, the joints already swollen as though she'd stuffed golf balls under her skin.

Aeron backhanded her, and she flew to the side, entire body vibrating in pain. Her teeth rattled together; her mind blinked in and out of focus. Reyes howled and attacked. The two men grappled to the floor in a tangled heap beside her. Aeron slashed with claws and teeth, Reyes with his daggers. They roared and they cursed and they snarled.

Blinking in an effort to orient herself, Danika pushed to her feet. Swayed, almost vomited.

“Run,” Reyes shouted to her.

She stumbled forward, only managing to pick up speed when she reached the outside hallway. Why Reyes was helping her, she didn't know. Would he die in there?

Tears burned her eyes as she ran.

T
HE PARTS OF
L
UCIEN'S SKIN
not charred were tinted blue or painted red. And though he'd been burned like the marshmallow in the middle of a s'more, he was shivering from cold.

Concerned, Anya commanded a fire to start in the hearth. Instantly the flames leapt over the logs, crackling. Waves of heat wafted through the spacious room, yet Lucien's shivering only seemed to increase.
Don't panic. Stay calm.

She'd never felt so helpless. Not in prison, and not with a determined Aias on top of her.

She quickly stripped, removed her spiked boots and climbed onto Lucien's battered body, running her hands over him to heat him. When she encountered the bullet wound, her throat constricted. She'd known it was there, had simply hoped it would have healed by now. Because of Cronus and
her,
it hadn't.

After hopping up, grabbing her shirt and ripping it in two, she climbed back onto the bed and bound Lucien's side. “Come on, Flowers. Warm up for me.”

He didn't respond.

He was a block of blackened ice. Just being near him, her nipples hardened like rocks and goose bumps broke out over her skin. And for once those weren't symptoms of arousal. She pulled the covers around them to hold the heat captive, then spent the next hour simply talking to him in an effort to distract and soothe them both.

“You need to get well. Life would be totally boring without you. And baby, bad things happen when I get bored. Did I ever tell you about the time I dressed up like a teenager and attended high school for a few months? I'd been bored out of my mind for decades and when the idea hit me, I just decided to go for it. Food fights, catfights, turning on the sprinkler system at prom.”

She paused, hoping for a response. Nothing.

“I wasn't naughty all the time, though,” she continued. “You would have been proud. This dumb jock got a cute little nerd who worshipped the ground he walked on pregnant, then called her a slut, a whore, a skank—you know, all the names promiscuous men like to call women. Anyway, I'd once vowed never to put a curse upon another person. They suck, as you and I both know. But I cursed him with a raging hard-on, I just couldn't help myself. Nothing he did made it go away.”

Lucien's body finally began to relax, his shivering easing, and he uttered a…chuckle?

Taking heart, she rushed on. “Once I attended a masked ball and dressed as the devil. Doesn't sound like a big deal, but the year was eighteen-nineteen and I created quite a stir, let me tell you. When I asked Baron something-or-other to sell me his soul, he tried to stab me with a butter knife.”

Lucien moaned. “Anya.”

Oh, thank gods. “It's going to be okay, baby. I'm here, I'm here.” She kissed his clammy temple.

His eyelids cracked open. “Anya?”

“Right here, love.” She kissed his jaw, continuing to run her hands over him. Now, however, her sole purpose was not to warm him. She needed to awaken his desire because she needed his cooperation for what she was about to do.

“Where are we?” He gazed around the room, his eyes glassy.

She didn't want him thinking. Not about their surroundings, not about what had happened in the cave and not about the future. He was too honorable and if lucid enough he might push her away. He would rather she keep her freedom than bind herself to him, even though it might give him the strength he needed.

“I love you,” she whispered straight into his ear, her warm breath caressing. “I love you so much. And that I almost lost you…I can't bear it.”

“Gods, Anya. I never thought to hear you say those words.” His arms enfolded her in a hug, pulling her as close as he could get her. When her head rubbed against his decimated skin, he hissed.

“I'm sorry.” She eased to the side. “So sorry.”

“Say it again.”

She knew what he wanted. “I love you, Lucien, and I want to be with you. In every way imaginable.” She rose on her elbow and stared down at him. “Do you understand what I'm telling you?”

Weak though he still was, his shaft swelled against her thigh, long and thick and proud. He understood. “Anya…”

She meshed their lips together, not giving him time to protest. Her tongue stroked his, soaking in his masculinity. “Mmm,” she moaned. She encircled his cock with strong fingers, stroking that too.

He groaned.

“Hurt?”

“Feels so good.” He gripped her ass and pulled her on top of him again, some of her energy already seeping into him. The heady scent of roses enveloped the room. Then, suddenly, he stopped. His fingers became vises on her hips. “No, Anya. We can't do this.”

“We can. We will.” She strummed her fingers over the head of his penis, and he jolted at the sensation. “One way or another, I'm going to have you inside of me. Tonight.”

Teeth bared, he arched into her touch. “Can't. Wrong for you.”

“I'll decide what's right and wrong for me.” She bit his earlobe and tugged. “Don't make me beg for you. Don't make me beg to feel you sliding inside of me, deep and hard and hot. Please don't—”

“Anya!” he roared. His hand tangled in her hair, and he jerked her down for another scorching kiss. “Don't beg. Don't stop.”

Their tongues battled, their teeth scraped together, and she rubbed herself against him, for the first time in her life completely unconcerned by the thought of being penetrated. She wanted it. Desperately.

Need pounded through her. Need for this man and no other. It was a dark hunger inside her, carnal and savage, almost chaotic, definitely delicious. “I want to be with you forever.”

“Yes, yes. Yes!” In between words, he nipped fiercely at her lips. “We won't go all the way.”

He tried to sit up, but she pushed him down. “Yes, we
are
going all the way. Now let me do all the work, lover. You just concentrate on regaining your strength.”

His eyes blazed up at her. “All I can think about is you. I need your nipple in my mouth.”

“And so you shall have it.” She rose up and offered him what he wanted. He sucked on it, flicking his hot tongue over the turgid tip. She felt the draw of his suction between her legs, felt moisture pool there like liquid fire.

“Let me taste you.” His fingers glided between her legs, and she quivered. “Right here.”

Clitoris throbbing for more attention, she climbed the rest of the way up and straddled his head. His tongue licked her, and she arched into his face. Every nerve ending in her body rejoiced. Every drop of blood in her veins sang.

“Lean forward, sweetheart. I want to finger you, too, but I won't. I—”

“You
will.
”

He paused, squeezed her tightly. “Tell me again that you're sure. There's no going back after this.”

“I'm sure,” she said as she obeyed his command, wanting what he wanted. Her ass was lifted, her elbows braced on the headboard, and Lucien sank a finger all the way inside her. She didn't feel the curse kick in at all, but she nearly came. She did cry out. Having a man be part of her, even in such a small way, while having his mouth suck at her, was the most erotic sensation she'd ever encountered. “Oh, gods.”

“Like?”

“Love.”

“More?”

“Oh, please.”

Another finger joined the first, stretching her. His tongue never stopped working her clit. The decadence. The magnificence. Her hips were writhing of their own accord. She couldn't have stopped them upon threat of death. He'd pleasured her before, but this, oh, this…

“Lucien, Lucien,” she chanted. Her head fell back, hair tickling her back. “Love you. So much.”

“Can you take me? All of me?”

“Yes. Please.” She gasped in bliss. Lightning shivers danced through her.

“I have to be inside you.” His voice was rough, scratchy. “To the hilt.” He pulled from her and tugged her down.

She mourned the loss of his naughty fingers until the tip of his erection found the opening of her sheath. He gripped her, holding her steady. She stared down at him, her hair a pale curtain around them.

“You are mine,” he said, peering up at her, gazes locking together. He caressed her cheek.

“Always.”

“I love you.”

“I love you so much.” He looked so beautiful to her. Still cut and bruised from battle, still a little weak but fueled by desire. For her.

“Sure you want this?”

“More than anything.” And she did. She belonged to this man, now and forever.

“Mine,” he said again, and surged all the way inside her.

A white light erupted between them, powerful, nearly blinding in its intensity. Anya cried out as her curse was unleashed, a sound that blended with Lucien's roar. She felt as if part of her soul had been ripped from deep inside and replaced with…a part of Lucien's?

Yes, yes. Lucien. Dark, savage. Wonderful, amazing. Purring inside her mind. There was a sharp ache between her legs, too, gone as quickly as it arrived, and then he was buried deep, so deep, and she was riding him. Slowly at first, savoring every new sensation. Then faster…faster…

“Good?” he managed to croak.

“Don't stop. Don't stop!”

“Never.”

She twined their hands and pinned them over his head, leaning down and taking his breath, making him more a part of her. Making him every part of her. Sex was so much more than she'd ever imagined—and gods, had she imagined—because it was with Lucien.

I'm glad I waited. So glad.

Giving herself to him was not a curse, it was a blessing.

“Worth the wait,” she told him, then delved her tongue into his mouth.

Their tongues battled in sync with their lower bodies. Pumping, pounding, sliding. The pleasure was building inside her, intense and combustible. He was so big, so thick and hard. So hers.

Almost there.
So good, so good. The piece of heaven on earth she'd always craved. Filled completely, no longer empty. Part of something far greater than herself as he rocked inside her. “Lucien,” she screamed, suddenly climaxing.

Everything inside her shattered, the most intense orgasm of her life ripping through her. She shuddered, her muscles clenching deliciously and locking down on his cock.

And as her inner walls milked him, he came, spurting inside her hotly. “Anya,” he roared. “My Anya.” He raised his hips, slamming as high and deep as he could possibly go.

Another climax immediately caught fire and raged through her, making her mindless for seconds, an eternity, drenching her in satisfaction, triumph and joy. Lucien was hers, truly hers, and she was his.

They were bonded, and she was glad.

As her spasms faded, she collapsed on top of him, a single thought registering in her mind: his skin was no longer black and blue, but tan and healthy.

She was grinning as she fell asleep.

 

L
UCIEN DOZED ON AND OFF
for several hours, a sleeping, sated Anya never far from his side, even when Death called him into the spirit realm. Lucien took Anya with him, cuddled in his arms. She hadn't awakened, though she'd managed to remain on her feet with him as her anchor. He thought perhaps she was truly relaxed for the first time in thousands of years, no longer worried about being attacked, captured or raped, and was finally catching up on her sleep.

Right now they were back in bed and one of his hands cupped her breast, the other draped over her stomach. For the first time in his life, he was utterly content, at peace. He wanted to stay here forever.
Hold
her forever. To protect her, however, he could do neither.

He planned to contact the other warriors, tell them about Anya and instruct them to care for her if he failed to find the Cage of Compulsion in time. How he hated the word.
Failed.
It meant Cronus still had power over him. Meant he would die. Something he was prepared and willing to do, though he did not want Anya grieving eternally for him.

“We have to go back to the mountain,” he said, the words echoing through the room.

Lucien's chest constricted as Anya moaned and her eyelids slowly opened. “Not yet,” she grumbled, her voice sleep-rich and sexy.

“We must. No telling what William is doing up there. You have his book. He might be looking for a way to hurt you.”

Rumpled and groggy, she inched up, silky hair tumbling down her bare shoulders. Gods, he loved her. For her sake, he should have pushed her away. He should not have penetrated that tight, hot sheath. But he could not make himself regret it. She'd given herself to him freely, completely.

“You're right, no telling what he's doing.” Anya stretched like a contented cat. Buried under the thick covers as they were, their skin was slicked with sweat and she slid against him. “How do you feel?” she asked huskily.