The Darkest Secret (24 page)

Yes.

“Really?”

She gave him another lick and he was rushing out,
No. No, I don't want you to stop.
Oh, gods, he thought.
Yes, you have to stop.

She blew on the weeping tip of his shaft. “What if I don't
want
to stop?”

Oh, gods, he thought again. The torture…the pleasure…the possible repercussions…he'd never been this torn.

“Amun, darling, say the word and I'll suck you so deep you'll feel my throat closed around you for days.” Another chilly breath coasted over his slit. “I've been thinking about this, needing it. Craving it. Let me have it.”

His resistance shattered.
Do it. Please, do it. You can blame me later. Hate me later, but please don't stop.
He didn't care about later, didn't care that he was begging. He had to have this, couldn't exist another moment without it.

“I will, I'll do it,” she said, fingers tracing up one side of his shaft, then down the other. “And I promise I'll blame you later.”

He knew he should be concerned but couldn't manage the emotion. Sweat beaded over him in an effort to purge the intensity of his hunger. She hadn't fit her mouth back over his length, but her breath still stroked him. So good, felt so good. And then that was the only word he could say.
Good.
He was trembling, aching, desperate.
Good, good, good.

Her voice lowered. “I'll blame you because you're too beautiful to resist. Because you think of my well-being
even when you're in danger yourself. Because you're mine. My warrior. My…demon.”

The admission affected him as potently as her actions, and he found new words to give her.
You're killing me, sweetheart. You're killing me, yes, yes, yes, please kill me.
Any moment and he would start arching his hips, thrusting up, unable to stop himself.

Her wicked grin returned. “Lie back and conserve your strength, baby. Sweet little Haidee's gonna do all the work.”

He didn't lie back. He'd been yearning for this forever. Yearning for
her
forever. He wanted to see every move she made.
Like this. Just like this.

“Whatever my warrior desires…” Lips of scarlet at last closed over the tip of him. She moaned in delight.

His back bowed. Her cold little tongue flicked the slit it had suckled only moments before, and he had to brace his arms behind him to remain upright. Down, down she sucked him, taking every inch, just as she'd promised, not backing off even when he hit deeper than she'd probably wanted him to go.

No, not true. His little Haidee hummed in satisfaction, in more of that delight, and he felt the vibrations in his bones. He had to grit his teeth to prevent himself from exploding then and there. Then she began to move, up and down, slowly at first, tormenting him, laving him with sensation, sensitizing his skin.

The ice of her touch should have numbed him, but combined with the heat his body exuded, he was kept in a continual state of need, ready to beg for one or the other to finally push him over the edge. And soon he was crying out in his mind, trying not to pump into her mouth.

That blond-and-pink hair bobbed, and with every upward glide, he saw slim, elegant fingers playing at his base. He started thinking about what he wanted to do with
his own fingers. Glide them down the bumps of her spine, cup that trim little ass, spread each digit until he hit the warm, wet center of her. Sink deep with one, retreat, go back in with two, retreat, then go back in with three, until he stretched her. Until she squirmed and rode him and gasped and cried.

Haidee groaned, her body trembling, her teeth scraping up his shaft. “Yes,” she rasped. “
Yes.
Fingers, deep. So deep.”

Amun's heart thundered against his ribs. Was he pushing the images inside her head? He must be, he thought. Was glad. He wanted her to see, to know.

All the while she licked at him, she nibbled, her hips undulating over his legs, searching for something to fill her. He cupped her nape and massaged the muscles knotted underneath. When she began to relax against his hold, he tried to spin her around so that he could please her as she was pleasing him. She resisted.

“No. You first.”

Haidee.

“No. Just…need a moment…control…slipping…”

He wasn't sure if she meant control of her body or control of the ice, but either way, he didn't care. She wanted him. She needed him. And he wanted to taste her. Needed to taste her, too.

As those tormenting lollipop licks continued, he tossed another image into her mind. One of
his
head buried between
her
thighs, sampling all the sweetness waiting there. Sucking her clitoris, flicking with his eager tongue, his fingers pinching her nipples into hard little pearls.

He'd shove her legs as far apart as they would go, burrow as deep as possible, and make her feel more vulnerable than she'd ever been. She would be helpless, his to control, command…his to own. He would take everything,
swallow her up, devour her completely, then rear up and slam home.

He wouldn't be gentle. But then, she wouldn't want gentleness. She would want a hard pounding, a punishing ride onto oblivion. She would scream and she would cry out. She would clutch at him and leave bloody trails on his back, her nails like talons as her legs wrapped around him, ankles locking.

He would make her forget her husband, forget every man she'd ever been with. Only Amun would matter. Only Amun would have rights to her. Anyone who tried to reach her, who wanted to see her like that, taste and touch her like that, would die. He would murder them.

She. Belonged. To. Him. Not even Haidee would be able to doubt that afterward.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, then lapped at his pre-come. Her trembling intensified.

I told myself to stay away from you,
he said into her mind.
I told myself to leave you alone.

“No,” she cried. “Don't.”

But I can't,
he continued.
Let me taste you.

“No,” she repeated. Less savagely, yes, but not completely broken. “Let me finish you. Because I swear to God, baby, you're going to have this memory if it kills me. And it just might. You taste so damn good.” With that, her mouth plunged, once again taking his entire length.

Amun finally let go of the gossamer threads of his control. He fell back, hips thrusting up, fingers tangling in her hair. She claimed him wildly, wantonly, as if she couldn't live another moment without his seed; soon he was helpless to do anything but let her have every drop.

Fire rushed through his veins, burning them to ash, allowing the inferno to spread, consume him, burst from him. He bucked up as she slammed down, and that seed rose up his length and exploded from him. Her cheeks
hollowed as she swallowed, taking everything he had to give and still demanding more.

She wrung him dry, reduced him to a shell of himself, and he sagged against the ground. She didn't pull from him right away, but licked and purred as if unwilling to give him up even then. His muscles continued to spasm with aftershocks of sensation, pleasure humming through him as potently as she had hummed
on
him.

He would have recovered—eventually—and could have finally possessed her completely. But she wanted to call Micah before they took that step, and Amun wouldn't force that issue now. Not after what she'd just done for him. So he somehow found the strength to sit up, clasp her under the arms and lift her until she straddled his chest.

Her eyes were glazed with passion, her cheeks flushed a deep rose. Those beautiful locks of hair hung in rapturous tangles around her shoulders. Never had a woman looked more mussed, more ready for loving—or better loved.

“What are you—?”

He slid one of his hands between their bodies and thrust a finger deep. Immediately her head fell back and a cry parted her lips.

“Yes! Yes, please, yes.”

Just as he'd imagined, he used two fingers on the inward glide. She was so wet she drenched his hand, so needy her inner walls clung to him, trying to hold him captive. This was how a woman should always feel. Ready. On the next inward glide, he used three, just as he'd craved. His thumb rubbed at her clitoris, never ceasing the pressure.

So desperate was her need, she erupted quickly and violently. Her scream echoed from the walls, her knees squeezed his sides so tightly he knew his ribs would crack, and her nails raked his pecs, leaving welts. And when the last tremor left her, she collapsed on top of him, panting, eyes closed, skin sheened by a delicate layer of ice.

Amun was panting just as forcefully. What had just happened…he'd never experienced anything like it. That hadn't been the simple fulfillment of a need. That had been the birthing of an addiction. An obsession. He had to have more. Had to have everything. Now, always.

Haidee's lack of inhibition, her willingness to please him, her absolute claiming of him—for that's what she'd done—had utterly changed him. In an instant, the old Amun had been burned to ash, and a new Amun had risen up.

Haidee's man.

He'd been stupid to try and push her away, he realized now. Stupid to try to ignore the attraction between them. He'd only hurt and frustrated them both. Here, they
could
be together.

No one would ever have to know, which meant she wouldn't be ridiculed, wouldn't be punished or ostracized by her friends. And so they would; they would be together. He simply couldn't be without her.
Wouldn't
be without her.

While they were here, he was forced to remind himself.

When they left hell, they would part. He wouldn't disturb her life any more than he already had.

His hands curled into fists. Gods, even the thought of being without her blackened his mood. He would not be swayed from that course, however. Through his suffering, he would know Haidee lived as she was meant. Happily. Finally.

Secrets gave a little whimper, and Amun frowned. Did the demon not want to lose Haidee, either?
I thought you were scared of her.
He was careful to hold the thought inside his mind.

Another whimper sounded.

Understanding dawned.
You aren't done digging through her mind.

The demon gave no response, but a response wasn't necessary. He knew.

He and Secrets had never had a true conversation, and he could hardly believe they were (almost) doing so now.
Doesn't matter, though. We can't keep her. For her own good, we can't keep her.

As if Haidee sensed the direction of his thoughts, she struggled to sit up. Amun held tight, forcing her to remain against him.

Sleep, sweetheart. We'll talk later.

“Promise?” she asked, the word slurred with exhaustion.

Promise.

“'Kay.” She hadn't noticed his failure to specify exactly
what
they'd discuss, and she went limp, slipping into a deep slumber.

S
OMETHING HARD AND INEXORABLE
shook Haidee from the most peaceful sleep of her life. She tried to bat the offender away. The shaking continued. She cursed and blinked open her eyes to see Amun looming above her, his expression tense, his black eyes unreadable.

He pressed a firm finger over her mouth before she could utter a single word.
Something's out there,
his deep voice said into her mind. Urgency radiated from him, as contagious as a virus.
Get dressed.

Of course someone was out there, she thought dryly. She and Amun were in a division of hell; they weren't allowed a single moment's respite. And now, their long overdue relationship talk would have to wait. Again. Still, this was better than the alternative. Like, say, dying.

As she donned the bra, panties, jeans, T-shirt, boots and countless blade and sheaths he'd laid out for her, she marveled at the change in herself. Only a few days ago, she had jolted to awareness every time she'd awoken, mind already locked on escape. Now, when danger had never been so prevalent, she'd let down her guard. She even had to remind herself not to think about what they'd done last night, how she'd sucked and swallowed him, how she'd ridden his fingers and cried his name.

She shivered as she listened for whatever had disturbed Amun. Nothing, she heard nothing. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and anchored the backpack on her shoulders. When they— Her ear twitched, and she frowned. Was
that a…whistle of wind? No, she thought. Laughter. Faint but unmistakable now—and coming from more than one source.

Laughter in hell. Not good. No, not good at all. She glanced at Amun to gauge his reaction.

He looked alert, on edge, as he stood guard at the cave entrance, his back to her. He wore a black shirt and black slacks, and each looked buttery soft and flexible. That way, he wouldn't be restricted during a fight. Silently she moved behind him.

He sensed her approach and started forward. She remained close on his heels as they left her new favorite place in the world. They should have entered another cave, a rocky hallway at the very least. That's what had happened every time before. This time, however, they entered—no, surely not. She shook her head, blinked her eyes. She couldn't be seeing what she thought she was seeing, but the image never varied.

A…circus?
Amun asked, incredulous.

He saw it, too, then. A freaking circus. Unreal! After the Realm of Shadows, a circus seemed like a spa vacation. Seriously. The restrictive walls of the underground had given way, stretching into what seemed to be a pretty, moonlit night. Stars even twinkled from their perch in the black-velvet sky, a cool breeze dancing past.

A moon…a sky…in a cave. How? She stopped wondering when she saw that several fires crackled nearby, and there were bearded women and jaundiced-eyed men holding their hands
inside
the actual flames, watching her and Amun with palpable menace.

Okay, so “spa vacation” had been the wrong term to use.

“Amun?”

I don't know,
he said, answering her unasked question. What the hell was going on?

Too-tall men with legs that knifed toward the sky walked by them, thankfully paying them no heed. The animals they led, however…the elephant whined, its trunk lifting, revealing fangs sharper than any demon's. Worse, there were several winged lions, two unicorns that were foaming at the mouth and three crocodiles with blades rather than scales protruding from their backs. Each of the animals was bound to the men by a fraying rope—and each was fighting for freedom, their gazes locked on her, the tasty-looking human.

She gulped, glanced away for fear of egging them on. “I don't like this.”

I won't let anything bad happen to you.

Just like I won't let anything bad happen to you,
she thought.

Tent after tent lined either side of her, a graveled pathway between them. At the end of that pathway was a booth, and inside that booth sat an obese man in a sweat-stained wifebeater. A neon sign flashed above him.
ADMISSION: ONE HUMAN HEART
.

I understand now,
Amun told her flatly.
We've reached the Realm of Destruction.

Another realm. She almost groaned. “None of this was here last night,” she said. “I would have noticed on our way into the cave.”

Well, it's here now.

No denying that. But how? Did she and Amun not actually have to hike anywhere to reach a new realm? Could the realms simply come to them? How odd, if so. Was that normal?

Was anything normal in hell? she thought with a humorless laugh.

They stopped at the booth.

“You want tickets or not?” the sweating man demanded
in a voice so low, so deep, there were echoes of darkness bubbling beneath the surface.

Shuddering, Haidee opened her mouth to shout, “Hell, no,” but Amun's next words stopped her.
Tell him yes.

Damn it. Why? Just then, she hated that their mind-connection didn't go both ways. “Yes,” she forced herself to say. “We want tickets.”

Glittering red eyes swept over them both. He raised his arm, fingers opening to reveal a dull, bloodstained blade in his palm. “First, I'll need your hearts.”

“His heart isn't human,” Haidee said, jabbing her thumb in Amun's direction.

The big man gave Haidee his full attention and licked his greasy lips. “Yours will do. You can pay for him another way.” He stroked himself. “Know what I mean?”

Amun stiffened, and suddenly utter menace poured from him.
Take what we need from the backpack,
he said. His timbre was flat, but all the more fiery for it.

She pulled the backpack forward.
I need two
—she gulped—
human hearts,
she thought and reached inside. What would she do if nothing—

She almost gagged when she encountered two warm, velvet-wrapped…things. “Paying another way won't be necessary.” She did gag when she handed both to the man, and he greedily ripped away the material to view the still-thumping organs inside. And when he tore a hunk from both with his teeth, tasting the tissue as he would a fine wine, she had to swallow a surge of bile.

He nodded in satisfaction, all three of his chins bobbing with the movement. “Go ahead and pass.” An evil grin split his lips, and she saw the crimson…food stuck between his teeth. “Enjoy yourselves, you hear? I have a real good feeling the performers'll enjoy you.”

For a moment, she could only stare at him. He loved to torture females and animals—in that order. How she knew,
she couldn't have said. She just knew. And she wanted to kill him. Badly.

Why shouldn't she? she thought next, her skin chilling several degrees. She was loaded down with blades. A simple jab, jab and he would—

You can't kill him,
Amun told her.

Her eyes widened. How had he known what she was planning? Could he now read her thoughts? Or had his demon—his demon, she thought, nodding. Secrets. There was a warm, dark cloud whisking through her head. The same warm, dark cloud she'd noticed the two times Amun had shown her bits and pieces of her past.

That's how she knew about the man. That's why her temperature had dropped.

When the demon claimed Amun's attention, or sought her own, his skin warmed and hers chilled, the same as when they were making love. Right now, Amun was practically on fire.

“You just gonna stand there?” the beefy man cackled, dragging her from her thoughts.

Shit! She'd allowed herself to be distracted. “Why can't I kill him?”

Come on.
Amun twined their fingers and started forward, maneuvering around the man—only to twist and strike with his free hand, embedding a blade in the man's spinal cord.
Crack
. There was a gurgle, that beefy body convulsing, slumping, falling over. Skin turned to ash, and bone to liquid, the ash drifting away in the breeze, the liquid forming a black, oozing puddle.
Oh, and to answer your question, you couldn't kill him because the privilege belonged to me.

When Amun straightened, looking anywhere but at Haidee, he once again started forward. She could only gape up at him, astonished. “Why'd you get the privilege?”

He planned to find you later and…do things to you.

“How do you know?” She knew the answer before she finished asking the question. His demon. Again.

I told you. I read all minds but yours.

“I remember.” She pushed out a breath. “And thank you.”

Thank you? You don't think me malicious? I just killed in cold blood.

“Malicious? For avenging me? No.” Amun must have forgotten that she had wanted to plant a blade in the man, too. “I think you're sweet and maybe even went a little easy on the bastard. I would have forced him to eat his own intestines.”

A warm chuckle drifted through her mind as Amun's fingers squeezed hers in thanks of his own. He'd truly expected her to balk, she realized. Later, she would have to tell him about some of the things
she
had done over the years, all in the name of vengeance and, foolishly, world peace.

As if the world would be a better place without Amun.

They remained on the gravel path for several minutes. Over and over Haidee's attention strayed as she searched for the animals she'd seen earlier. She expected them to reappear and launch at her, jaws snapping. Constantly she tripped, but Amun never let her fall. Even better, he never berated her for her lack of concentration as Micah would have done. To him, it was mission first, feelings second.

When you were stalking evil or being stalked by evil yourself, you were to think only of destroying that evil. You weren't to worry about any physical pain you might suffer. You weren't to consider what might happen to the innocents around you. And most assuredly, you weren't to place your fate in anyone else's hands.

“Come,” a withered female in front of one of the tents
suddenly called. “I tell you what awaits. You pay me with a scream.”

Haidee replied before she could think better of it. “I'm not screaming.”

“You will. Oh, you will.” A gnarled finger pointed at her, and a cackling laugh sounded. “Best go no farther, hateful girl. Death, death is what awaits you. And pain, so much pain. Soon. Soon you pay me.”

The prediction was so close to what Haidee had endured countless times in the past, she couldn't shake a sudden sense of unease.
Soon,
the old crone had said, and the urge to rush over there and shake
the woman,
to demand answers, overwhelmed her. She
would
shake the bitch, she thought, starting forward.

“Oh, I'll pay you all right.”

Cackling.

Distantly, she thought she felt something—someone, Amun—tugging at her back. She didn't care. Couldn't care. When she tried to pull from Amun's hold, he tightened his grip.

“I have to go to her. Have to—”

Don't listen to her. Remember what the angel told us? Trust no one.

It took a superhuman effort, but Haidee managed to stop and look away from that stooped body. The moment she did, the overwhelming urge left her. “Thank you. Again.”

There's no need to thank me, Haidee.
He stuffed a piece of paper in his pocket.
Come on.

He ushered her off the pathway. He zigzagged and ducked behind the tents, always maintaining a tight grip on her. She had been chased over the years and had chased others, so she knew what he was doing. Preventing anyone from locking on them, their every move random, unpredictable.

“What's the game plan?” she asked.

While you chatted with the self-professed seer, I had the pack provide instructions for successfully navigating this place.

“And?” she asked.

Another scroll. It said we must find the Horsemen.

Horsemen? “I don't understand.”

We must find the Horsemen,
he repeated.
Of the Apocalypse.

Oh, dear God. “You're kidding me.” Please let him be kidding.

I wish I were. Through death or some other means, the scroll said they were our only way out of here.

She gulped a mouthful of what felt like sand. “And what do you mean by ‘some other means'? We're supposed to ride them to safety?”

To her surprise, Amun chuckled softly.
I have no idea. The scroll told me nothing else. But I do know the Horsemen are in some way related to William, and—

“William?”

You haven't met him. He's immortal, a god of some sort, I think, and on our side.

“Our” side. As if they were partners rather than enemies. As if he trusted her completely. As if he no longer saw her as a Hunter responsible for his friend's murder, but as a woman worthy of him. Inside she glowed, tendrils of his warmth traipsing through her.

“So, if the Horsemen are related to this William person, who's on
our
side—” she stressed the word “—the Horsemen should be on our side, as well?”

We can hope.

For some reason, that wasn't promising.

A shriek sounded at her left, and she stopped to wheel in that direction.

Easy,
Amun instructed, stilling beside her.
Someone's playing a game, that's all.

That was all? The beings here weren't playing with darts, balloons or plastic balls—and the prizes weren't stuffed animals. Severed heads were being tossed at boiling tubs of oil, and though the heads were bodiless, their mouths still managed to scream in pain when splashed with the oil, skin melting away.

The little boy who'd just won jumped up and down, clapping, his hoofed feet clomping hard into the ground and spraying dirt in every direction. The proprietor handed him a beautiful golden bird trying desperately to escape the string around its neck, wings flapping erratically, glitter raining from them like fairy dust.