Lords of the Underworld Bundle (97 page)

To his knowledge, she had not crossed paths with the female warrior last time she'd been here. Which meant this was her first encounter with Misery. The first was always the hardest. “Cover your ears and close your eyes.”

For once, she didn't question him and rushed to obey.

“I need to speak with Torin,” he told Cameo.

She propped her hip against the door frame. “Well, you can come back later. I was here first. This your woman?”

“Yes,” he said, adding without pause, “
You
can come back later.” He had to glance away. His chest was hurting, and not in a good way. Was a…romance brewing between Cameo and Torin? Stranger things had happened, he supposed. Like Danika, staying here with him when she could have run again.

“She's pretty.”

Exquisite, if you asked him. “Leave, and I will give you the black dagger you admired. The one hanging on my bedroom wall.”

Anticipation instantly showered her features. Damn, he'd been looking at her again. The ache returned to his chest. He rubbed the spot just above his heart as Cameo flicked a glance over her shoulder, paused, then faced him once more.

“Fine. I'll go,” she said, and stepped around him. As she disappeared down the hall, she called, “But I'm coming back in a few, so make it quick.”

Reyes reclaimed Danika's hand—he couldn't go long without touching her in
some
way—her icy skin heating again. She opened her eyes, those magnificent green angel eyes that both cut him and soothed him.

“What happened?” she asked, still a bit dazed.

“Cameo is the keeper of Misery.”

“Ah. That explains a lot. Poor woman.”

Lips twitching, Reyes led her into Torin's bedroom. A sophisticated computer system consumed the far wall. Monitors flashed different colors and scenes, some displaying the steep hill their fortress rested upon, some the city and its people.

Torin rested in a swivel chair, facing them, arms locked over his chest. He had white hair and green eyes, a shade darker than Danika's, that gleamed wickedly. “What?” he said in the same put-out tone Cameo had used.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Reyes asked him.

Torin's gaze swept over Danika, intent, before returning to Reyes. “Something you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Well, there's your answer. Why are you here?”

“My family,” Danika said, urgency now humming from her. She stepped forward, caught herself and inched back. “Do you know where they are? Aeron mentioned a small town in Oklahoma.”

“That info could have been useful a few hours ago.” Torin turned and faced his computers. His skill with them was the reason the warriors were so well moneyed. “The guys and I had a chat this morning before they left. Lucien asked me to look for that very same information. See, when you and your family were last here, I placed dye in your food.”

Reyes caressed her arm, hoping to relax her. Thankfully she did not erupt at the admission.

“Yours wore off a lot quicker than it was supposed to,” Torin continued. “Don't know if it was because you were scared and sweating more or what. The dye was supposed to remain in your system for months. Still, your sister dropped off next, then your grandmother and then your mother. I haven't seen a glimpse of any of you in weeks. Don't worry, I know what you're thinking. I should have placed a tracking chip in your shoes, but didn't think of it until now. Live and learn.”

Reyes doubted that was what Danika had been thinking, but he remained quiet.

“Anyway, I've been at the computers for hours, searching for even the slightest glimmer. Nothing.”

Danika had stiffened in expectation—and hope?—only to sag in disappointment. He released her hand and wound his arm around her waist, willing his strength into her body. She sank against him. For comfort?

“Until,” Torin added, fingers tapping over the keyboard, “this.”

Danika stiffened again. “What?” Excitement dripped from the word, saturating the air.

Without glancing up from his monitor, Torin waved a hand in the air. “You've seen Paris bake cookies, right? His skills are pathetic, I know, but that's beside the point. When you eat those cookies, they break down and seem to disappear into your system. Only, they don't disappear. There are lasting effects. Fat, cholesterol and so on.

“Our dye is a special blend of ingredients that modifies a human's body chemistry so each individual gives off a signal all her own. The lasting effects are far stronger than that of a cookie. Better, I remembered they're still traceable even when the dye itself has worn off.”

Now Reyes was the one to stiffen. Ashlyn had almost died when she'd ingested an “ingredient” meant only for immortals.

Realizing the path his mind traveled, Torin added, “I wouldn't have used it on the women if Sabin hadn't already tested it on a few Hunters.”

Slowly Reyes relaxed. Danika, he realized, was breathing heavily. He squeezed her tight.

“Five minutes,” Torin said, “and I'll have a printed map of their current location. You can call me later when you're close to them, and I'll tell you if they've moved.”

Now a tremor swept through Danika's slight frame. “My grandmother, do you know where she is, as well?”

A pause. A stiff nod. “I've already backtracked the program to see where she's been, but there's been little activity from her signal this week.”

Hope lit Danika's angel face, brightening the entire room. “She's alive, then. She's really alive! Aeron was wrong. If she was dead, she wouldn't be trackable. Right?”

Torin answered without hesitation, his expression dead-pan. “Right.”

Eyes widening, she tented her hands over her mouth. “Oh, my God. This is…this is…this is the best day of my life!”

With a brilliant laugh, she threw herself at Reyes, her cheek burrowing into the hollow of his neck. Her skin was petal-soft, fragrant with the scent of night skies. “I'm so happy right now I could burst.”

Reyes held her, but kept his gaze on Torin. His friend gave a clipped nod in response to Reyes's unspoken question. A dead body, it seemed, could still give off a signal.

Inhaling deeply, Reyes closed his eyes. He held her, loving the feel of her, every muscle he possessed straining toward her. He shook with the effort to remain still, though he could not stop his nails from elongating, his teeth from sharpening. The two only happened when the demon's hunger spiked.

I've already fed you. Just…enjoy her.

They might not have her much longer.

When she learned that a dead body could indeed be tracked…Dread consumed him, and he closed his eyes. She had been offered hope, such evil hope. The same he'd tried to give her earlier. He would not take it away. Yet.

“T
HIS TIME
, stay here,” Reyes said.

He deposited Danika inside his bedroom and left to do God knew what, shutting the door firmly behind him. She waited several long, agonizing moments before sitting on the edge of the mattress, her gaze never leaving the entrance. When he failed to reappear, she relaxed and tugged the tiny cell phone from her jeans pocket.

Stefano had figured the Lords would search her and take it, maybe use it to try and track him, but he had thought giving her a phone worth the risk. So had she. Everyone carried phones nowadays and she hadn't thought the Lords would automatically assume she'd gotten it from the Hunters. Now, she almost wished Stefano hadn't tucked it into her pocket before drugging her, or that the warriors
had
found it. Then she wouldn't have had a choice to make: to check in or not to check in?

In theory, it was an easy decision. Family won. Always. Things were not always that simple, as she was coming to realize. The Lords had known her family's location but had never struck. A point in their favor. Then again, the Hunters had never tried to hurt her family—but what if she chose to help the Hunters, and they failed to stop the Lords? After all, they had failed all these centuries. The warriors would—perhaps—learn she helped their enemy and they would—definitely—come after her with more fervor.

If she failed to check in, though, the Hunters might try to sneak inside the fortress and save her. There might be a fight. If Ashlyn returned, she could be hurt, and thereby the baby. Anya, too. Reyes.

Her gaze lowered to her hands. The cell's keypad blurred. Reyes had taken such good care of her. Tomorrow, he was escorting her to her family. Oh, God, her family. All of her conflicting thoughts melted away, her mind focusing completely on her loved ones.

Danika's lips curved in a happy grin. They were alive, and they were together. She didn't know why Grandma Mallory had left her friend's house without word yet had remained in Oklahoma, and she didn't care. She didn't know why the three women had decided to risk capture and stay together; she didn't care. They were alive! That was all that mattered.

She would have to call Stefano and buy herself a little more time to figure this out. And she would have to do it now, before Reyes returned. Tamping down a wave of dread, she dialed the number. Her hand shook as she placed the phone at her ear.

“Happy House,” a deep voice said.

“It's…me.”

There was an energizing pause, and the faux overworked-employee persona faded. “You're still alive.”

“Yes. They've been good to me,” she admitted.

“The devil always smiles before rendering the final blow.” Static crackled over the line. “What have you learned?”

“There's another demon out there, Hope, and he's their enemy. Other than that, nothing. They've kept me isolated, asking questions about you and your group.”

“Another demon?” The sound of a pen sliding against paper echoed. “What have you told them?”

“That you guys asked me questions about them, but I didn't have any answers for you.” That, at least, was the truth.

“Is it possible to search the fortress for journals, pictures, information about anything they've been up to?”

“No. I've been locked inside a bedroom.”

“No good with locks?”

“No.” Another lie.

“Have you considered…” His voice trailed off.

Seducing one for answers, she finished for him. “I—I—” She couldn't force an answer to form.

“Just think about it.” There was a pause. “Everything you do is for the greater good. Remember what I told you. Peace, harmony. No more adultery, no more suicide. The welfare of your family.”

In his fanatical way, he really did care about the world and its people and was willing to do anything to save them. Not altogether altruistic, but he did believe perfection waited just around the corner, the Lords the only thing blocking the way.

Danika wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Reyes had said there would always be evil in the world as long as people had free will, demons roaming the land or not. “I'll think about it.” But she knew she wouldn't. She wouldn't whore for him, no matter the cause. If she slept with Reyes, it would be because she desired him.

“We've been watching the fortress,” Stefano said, “yet there's been no activity inside. Any idea what they're doing?”

If she admitted most of the Lords were in Rome, the Hunters might view the fortress as fair game and sneak inside. Torin and Cameo and anyone else who'd stayed behind couldn't fight them all.

“I don't know,” she finally said.
God, am
I
possessed by the demon of Lies?
“I'll try to find out.”

“Have you heard—”

“Wait. Someone's coming. I have to go.” Yet another lie, but she hung up and shoved the phone back into her pocket. For a long moment, she simply sat there, shaking. Then her shoulders slumped, and she covered her eyes with her hand. She had trouble drawing in a breath.

What's wrong with me?

She'd asked herself that very question a thousand times, it seemed. For once, she thought she might know the answer. Infatuation. She was infatuated with Reyes, and had been since the beginning.

There. She'd admitted it. No excuses this time, no talking herself out of it. He drew her; she wanted him, and she needed to
not
want him. Her desire had begun to color her every action, her every thought and what little common sense she had left.

Danika jumped to her feet. Her knees nearly buckled, but she latched on to the bedpost and held tightly. Being with Reyes wouldn't be pleasurable. It
couldn't
be. She'd have to
stab
him. But maybe she needed to experience it firsthand. Maybe that would finally drive him from her mind and her fantasies.

She could purge him from her thoughts as surely as she purged her nightmares when she painted.

Just the idea caused goose bumps to form on her skin and shivers to trek the length of her spine vibrating through her so that the shaking in her limbs increased. Her mouth dried. Desire and nervousness swam through her bloodstream, a balance of good and evil. The thought made her laugh, but it emerged as a croak.

Licking her lips, she released the post and stumbled forward. No telling how long Reyes would be gone. She'd have to keep herself busy, distracted, or she would be a bundle of anxious energy and sickness when he returned, unable to crawl into bed for anything more than sleep.

There was only one thing she knew of that would absorb her concentration completely. Painting.

Her hands were itching with anticipation before she reached the closed door. The metal was cold against her skin as she twisted the knob. As she stepped inside, she expected a closet full of supplies. Instead, she found another bedroom, spacious, airy—and converted into an artist's studio.

She drank in the luxury, a shocked gasp escaping her. Canvas after blank canvas awaited her, each propped on an easel. Against the far wall was a table lined with multisized brushes and tubes of color.

He did this for me.
Not because he'd wanted to see into her dreams. He hadn't known about them when he'd done this. But simply because he wanted her to be happy. The realization was as shocking as the studio itself, and she found herself softening all the more toward him.

“What am I going to do with you, Reyes,” she whispered.

How many times would Reyes surprise her like this? First the clothing, then his attempts at soothing her fears, and now this dream studio. Everything he did, everything he said, battered against her sense of self-preservation. Danika's hand fluttered over her racing heart. Even at home, she hadn't had such an elaborate setup. She'd made a livable wage painting portraits, but spare cash had been a rarity.

Before she became aware she'd taken a step, she was standing in front of the table, lifting the brushes, testing their weight and feeling their bristles. Reyes wanted to see the images from her dreams, the angels and the demons, the gods and goddesses. Suddenly she wanted to give him anything, everything.

But as she studied the palette of colors, both oils and acrylics, she knew her dreams would not be the focus of her first painting tonight. He would.

 

R
EYES PREPARED ANOTHER MEAL
for Danika. Thankfully Paris had gone shopping before leaving for Rome, so there was plenty to choose from.

He carried the tray of fresh fish and salad to his bedroom, experiencing a slight twinge of panic when he didn't spot Danika right away. A quick search, and he found her in the studio, serene as she sketched something on one of the canvases. So absorbed was she that she didn't hear him enter. Did not even look at him when he called her name.

Her eyes were glazed, as if she were in some sort of trance. Her wrist flicked up and down the blank board gracefully, her body swaying from side to side in a fluid dance. His chest ached, his cock swelled. Pain battered against his skull to get to her.
None of that.

Not wanting to distract her, he left. Breathed in and out, trying to still his raging heartbeat. He didn't think her lovely image would ever leave his mind. Hair hastily tied back, several strands escaping. Black smudges on her cheek and jaw. Lips red and glistening from the sharp nibble of her teeth.

He was rock hard and shaking uncontrollably by the time he reached the entertainment room. He hadn't realized he'd done it, but he'd already palmed his blades. Desperate for pain, he plopped onto the dark red couch; the men refused to buy any other color upholstery because of him, a fact that sometimes embarrassed him.

At least he didn't feel the need to jump from the fortress roof again.

“So what's a guy have to do to get some action around here?”

Reyes's head whipped to the side at the sound of that unknown voice. One of his daggers was soaring through the air a second later.

An unfamiliar warrior lounged in the plush red recliner, legs extended, the very picture of tranquility. He captured Reyes's weapon without a blink and studied the hilt. “Nice work. You make it yourself?”

Recognition suddenly dawned. “William.” Anya's friend. Not many people could make it up the hill and into the fortress without setting off Torin's traps and sensors. But Torin had turned them off for this man, and Anya had warned everyone in the house to leave him alone or suffer the consequences.

“Yep, that's me. I know, I know. You're humbled I'm here, feel like throwing rose petals at my feet, blah, blah, blah. No need, though. Just try and think of me as a normal guy.”

Reyes rolled his eyes. Anya had failed to mention the immortal was an arrogant ass. “Yes, I made the blade. Why are you here?”

Frowning, William tangled a strong hand through his black-as-night hair. “Boredom, my friend. Boredom. Everyone just took off, no welcome party for me or anything. I decided to watch some TV, but the only movies you've got are porn and as I've been without a female for the past few weeks, they're just making me jealous.”

“The movies belong to Paris,” he said.

A laugh. A shake of William's head. “Say no more. I met the man.”

“I did not mean, why are you in this room. Why are you in Budapest? Why are you in this fortress?”

William shrugged those big shoulders. “Answer doesn't change. Boredom. Well,” he added after a moment's thought, “maybe it changes a little. Anya came to visit me not too long ago and put me in a tight spot with the new god king. I failed him, so he burned my home to the ground—even though he got what he wanted anyway. I've got nowhere else to go and Anya owes me big-time.”

Reyes stiffened, every muscle in his body going on alert. “If you came to hurt her, I will—”

“Relax.” The warrior held up one hand, palm out. His blue eyes twinkled as he raised his shirt with the other. “I couldn't hurt her even if I wanted to, and believe me, I've wanted to. She stabbed me right here.”

His gaze lowered to the man's stomach. A long, thick scar slashed through his navel. “Nice.”

“Girl always has been good with knives.” William dropped the shirt and grinned.

Except for the scar, looking at William was like beholding the most perfect being ever created. Perfect skin, tanned and smooth. Perfect nose, sloped and straight. Perfect teeth, perfect cheekbones, perfect jaw. He was leanly muscled and exuded confidence. Reyes did not want the man anywhere near Danika.

Thinking of Danika caused his stomach to knot. “You said you desired a woman?” Reyes asked him.

William sat up, his features practically glowing with anticipation. “Have one in mind?”

“Meet me at the front door. Fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, Reyes marched from the room and into his chamber. Danika stood in the exact same spot he'd left her, still lost in her painting. She hadn't even begun adding colors yet, but was still sketching the outline.