The Darkest Whisper

imagined, she realized. Yeah, it hurt like a bitch, but the pain was manageable. Especially when her vision began to wink in and out, the blue sky and white clouds there for a few seconds, gone the next few. She heard footsteps pounding from a distance, cars swerving. Hopefully, she’d distracted the Hunters enough to give Sabin his victory.

“Hold him back,” someone shouted. “I’ll get the girl.”

Sabin roared, an unholy sound that nearly made her ears explode. Then a bullet ricocheted off the tire rim and ate its way into her chest. Another sharp ache blasted through her. Okay, that pain wasn’t so manageable. Her entire body was trembling, the muscles seizing into hard knots. But what bothered her most was the fact that warm blood was soaking her pretty new T-shirt. A T-shirt she herself had picked. A T-shirt she’d been so proud and happy to wear. A T-shirt that Sabin had peered at with lust in his eyes.

It’s ruined. My beautiful new shirt is ruined. At that, even the Harpy stirred in anger, finally rousing.

It was too late, though. Gwen’s strength was draining from her, along with her lifeblood. Her vision went completely black, no more peeks of color. Sleep pulled at her, beckoning, lulling, but she fought it. Can’t sleep. Not here, not now. There were too many people around her. She’d be more vulnerable than ever. A disgrace to her family. A target once again.

“Gwen!” Sabin called. In the distance, there was a sickening rip, as if limbs were being torn from a body, followed by an ominous thud. “Gwen, talk to me.”

“I’m…fine.” The darkness finally swallowed her whole, and this time there was no fighting it.

CHAPTER 15

The meeting with Sabin was due to kick into gear any moment, yet Aeron hadn’t seen any sign of Paris. No one had, and the different sets of lovebirds had been stumbling from their rooms at different times, coming from all different directions.

He’d worried about the warrior all night. Never had he seen the usually optimistic man so bleak. Wasn’t right. Wouldn’t be tolerated. Which was why Aeron now stood in front of Paris’s bedroom door, knocking insistently.

There was no answer. Not even the sound of footsteps echoing.

He raised his fist to knock again, this time louder, harder.

“My Aeron, my sssweet Aeron.”

Hearing that familiar, childlike voice, hope flooded him and Aeron spun. And there she was. His baby. Legion. He’d only known her a short time, but she’d already become his favorite part of himself, weaseling her way into his heart with her unquestioned loyalty to him. She was the daughter he’d always secretly wanted.

When his gaze collided with the waist-high, green-scaled, bald, red-eyed, clawed, fork-tongued little she- demon all his worries melted away, Paris momentarily forgotten.

“Get over here, you,” he said gruffly.

That was all the encouragement she needed. Grinning widely—and baring those sharp little teeth—she leapt at him, landing on his shoulders and winding herself around his neck. She squeezed him tightly, cutting off his air, but he didn’t mind. The boa-like embrace was her version of a hug.

“Missssed you,” she cooed. “Ssso much.”

He reached up and scratched behind her ears the way she liked. Soon she was purring. “Where have you been?” He liked having her nearby, liked knowing she was safe.

“Hell. You know that. Me told you.”

Yes, he’d known that, but he’d been hoping she had changed her mind and gone somewhere else. Hell was a place she despised, but a place Sabin kept convincing her to return to—to “help” Aeron through recon work, the warrior always said. Bastard. Her brethren there sensed the good in her and thrilled in hurting her, taunting her as if she were a damned soul rather than one of their own.

“Anyone hurt you?” he demanded.

“Try. Me run.”

“Good.” He would have found a way inside that fiery cavern if they’d harmed a single scale on her body.

She slithered up, propping her elbows on his shoulder and her cheek against his. The touch was hot, like a brand, but he didn’t push her away. Nor did he flinch when she ran the tip of a poisoned fang against his jaw stubble. For whatever reason, Legion adored him. She would rather die than hurt him, and he would rather die than injure her feelings.

The only time Legion had gotten upset with him was when he’d traveled to the edge of town to watch the citizens. A habit of his. Their weaknesses and frailty both disgusted and entranced him. They seemed oblivious to the fact that they were destined to die, some that very day, and he wanted so badly to understand their thought processes.

Legion had assumed he’d been on the lookout for a potential bedmate and had flipped out. You belong to me. Me! she’d cried. Only after he’d assured her that he’d never offer himself to creatures so feeble had she calmed.

“You eyesss gone.” Relief dripped from her tone.

His eyes—his stalker. And yes, his “eyes” were gone. But for how long? That gaze bore into him randomly, never at the same time of day or night. Last time he’d felt them, he’d been stripping for a shower. Before he’d removed his briefs, he’d found himself alone.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to find out who or what it is.” Somehow, some way. “And I’m going to stop them.” By whatever means necessary.

“Oh, oh. I learn for you!” Legion clapped happily, but then began to pout. “Ssshe a girl. An angel.” Gag, shudder.

He blinked, sure he’d misheard. “What do you mean, an angel?”

“From…” Another gag. “Heaven.” Another shudder.

Why would an angel from the heavens be watching him? A female, at that? In appearance, he had to be everything such a being would deplore. Tattooed, pierced…rough. “How do you know this?”

“Everyone talking in hell. That’sss why I come back, sssso’ssss I can warn you. They sssaying angel in trouble for following Lord of Underworld. Sssaying ssshe about to fall.”

“But…why?” And what happened to angels when they fell?

“Don’t know. But ssshe be in big trouble. Big big trouble.”

“They have to be mistaken.” He could understand a god or a goddess watching his every move. They wanted the artifacts; they wanted the box. Cronus, king of the Titans, liked nothing more than to use the warriors for his own gain, demanding they kill his enemies or suffer.

As Aeron well knew.

“Hate her,” Legion spat.

If his shadow were indeed an angel, that certainly explained why Legion couldn’t remain in his presence. Angels, he’d learned from Danika, were demon assassins. They weren’t controlled by the gods, but by a single being no one had ever seen. Only…felt.

“Perhaps she’s here to kill me,” he mused. Ah, now that made sense, considering what he was. But why him, rather than another demon-possessed Lord? Why now? He and the other warriors had been walking the earth for thousands of years. The angels had always left them alone.

“No! No, no, no. Me kill her!” was the fervent reply.

“I don’t want you to challenge her, sweet.” Aeron patted the top of Legion’s head. “I’ll think of something. You have my word. And I’m grateful to you for the information.” He wouldn’t accept a death sentence easily; he had Legion to protect. He wouldn’t allow the artifacts to be snatched from his friends, either, if that’s what the angel wanted. Too many lives were at stake.

What he would do was talk to Danika, learn all he could about his new shadow. And how to destroy it.