The Darkest Whisper

Speaking of loved ones, had Legion returned to hell? Was she in danger? She wasn’t happy unless she was with Aeron and he wasn’t complete unless she was perched on his shoulders.

The so-called angel hadn’t visited him in days. Hopefully, she was gone for good and Legion would return.

He leaned to the left, turning smoothly. Pinks and purples streaked the sky, the sun setting perfectly. Wind whipped across his scalp, his hair too short to ruffle. Paris’s, though, continually slapped his cheeks. The warrior was cradled against his chest, arms wrapped around his back, under his wings.

He remained low and in the shadows, out of view.

“I don’t want to do this,” Paris said flatly.

“Too bad. You need it.”

“What are you? My pimp now?”

“If I have to be. Look, you found a woman you could bed more than once. Surely you can find another. We just have to look for her.”

“Damn you! That’s like telling a man whose arm has been chopped off that you’ll sew someone else’s on him. It’s not going to be the same. It won’t be the right color, the right length. Nothing will be as perfect as the other.”

“Then I’ll petition Cronus for Sienna’s return. You said her soul is in the heavens, yes?”

“Yes,” was the grudging response. “He’ll say no. He said I had a choice, and if I didn’t pick her he would ensure she never returned to earth. He’s probably already killed her. Again.”

“I can sneak into the heavens. I can search for her.”

There was a long pause, as though Paris was considering his words. “You could be caught, imprisoned. Then my sacrifice would be in vain. Just…forget about Sienna.”

Problem was, Aeron couldn’t forget about her until Paris did. He was going to have to ponder this, decide how to proceed. All he knew was that he wanted his friend back. The laughing, carefree warrior who had a smile for everyone.

“City’s crowded tonight,” he observed, hoping to bring them to a safer topic.

“Yes.”

“Wonder what’s going on.” The moment he’d spoken, he experienced a twinge of dread. Last time it had been this crowded, the Hunters had invaded. He studied the people below more closely, looking for the telltale sign of the Hunters. A tattoo of infinity. But these people were wearing watches, long sleeves, and he couldn’t see their wrists. Besides, while he knew Hunters were proud of their brands, he also knew they could have started hiding them, marking themselves in discreet locations. Would have been the smart thing to do. “I’m sorry, but we need to go back to the fortress.”

“Good.”

Aeron was already heavily armed, and he never minded fighting on his own, but he had Paris with him. Paris, who was still fuzzed from those massive amounts of ambrosia and would be more a hindrance than a help.

“Wait. Stop!” Paris had tensed against him, and his tone had been disbelieving, hopeful and dripping with wonder.

“What?”

“I think I saw…I think…Sienna.” He said her name as if it was a prayer.

“How is that possible?” Aeron scanned the ground. There were so many faces and he was moving so quickly, he couldn’t really distinguish one from another. But if Paris had seen Sienna, if she was somehow once again alive, then Hunters were definitely here. “Where?”

“Back. Go back. She was heading south.” There was so much excitement in Paris’s voice, Aeron couldn’t resist.

Despite the danger, he turned. He wanted to toss out a warning, don’t get your hopes up, but couldn’t. Stranger things had happened.

Suddenly Paris jerked, grunted. “Find shelter! Now!”

Aeron felt something warm and wet slide over his arms where he gripped Paris’s waist. Then a barrage of arrows pierced Aeron’s wings, tearing the membrane. His arms and legs were next, the muscles ripped open, the bones nicked. As he jerked in pain, understanding dawned. Hunters were indeed here, and they’d spotted him. Had probably been watching and waiting for just such an opportunity.

My fault, he thought. Again. He began to fall…fall… twisting and turning. Crashing.

TORIN LEANED BACK in his chair, hands locked behind his head, feet propped on his desk. He’d been glued here for days, barely leaving to eat, shower or, hell, live. Cameo hadn’t come to see him since the night of her return, and maybe that was for the best. He couldn’t concentrate when she was near and he had more work on his plate than ever before.

He kept the warriors well-moneyed, playing with stocks and bonds. He monitored the surrounding area for intruders. He made all travel arrangements. He researched any leads on Pandora’s box, the artifacts or the Hunters. He was even scouring news sites for any sign of a man-with-wings sighting. Aka Galen. To the best of Torin’s knowledge, Galen and Aeron were the only warriors who possessed the means of flight.

Torin didn’t mind his many jobs because he had the time to do it all; he never left the fortress. To do so could quite possibly kill everyone in the world. So dramatic, he thought dryly. But true. One touch of his skin against another’s was all that was needed to jumpstart a plague. Last one he’d started, thanks to the Hunters, had been here in Buda. At least it had been contained by doctors before it could do too much damage.

But, oh, how he wanted to touch Cameo. Would have given anything for the chance. He pictured her in his mind. Small, slender, that long dark hair, those sad gray eyes.

Would he still want her if he could have his pick of women? he found himself wondering for the thousandth time that day. Would he still want her if he could touch anyone he wished? Go into town anytime? As a man, yeah, he’d want her. She was pretty, smart, amusing if you got past her suicidal voice. But anything permanent? He just didn’t know. Because…his gaze strayed to the monitor to his left.

Every so often he would catch a glimpse of a beautiful woman walking through town. Long black hair, exotic eyes that were bright one moment and glazed the next. She’d pause in her stride, smile, frown, then kick back into gear. When the wind caressed her, ruffling her hair, Torin would catch the barest hint of…pointed ears? Whether he was seeing things or not, the sight of those ears made him hard as a rock. He had the strangest urge to lick them.

She wore a T-shirt that said Nixie’s IAD House O’ Fun, and she had earbuds in her ears. What was a Nixie? A quick Google search and he figured it—she? — was some sort of Immortal After Dark. Interesting. Because he’d like nothing more than to explore her after dark.

What type of music was she listening to? Judging by the brisk nod of her head, it was something fast and hard. Where had she come from? What was she? Delicious, I bet…

Lusting after the strange woman had shaken him, sent those questions about Cameo spiraling through him. If he could desire another, he wasn’t in love with Cameo. And if he wasn’t in love with her, was it cruel of him to mess around with her? Would he eventually hurt her? Hurt himself?

He’d never be able to touch her, and as passionate as she was, she would eventually need a man who could. He’d never had to worry about these things before because he’d never been with a woman. Not even before his possession. He’d been too busy then, too involved in his job. Maybe he needed to join Workaholics Anonymous, he thought dryly. He had to be the only millennia-old virgin in history.

One of his monitors flashed, and he gave it a detailed scan. Nothing out of the ordinary. No sign of his pointy-eared brunette, either. Another question popped into his head: if Cameo weren’t worried about her demon inflicting untold misery upon a human, would she have chosen another man to dally with?

At the thought of her with another man, there was no intense surge of jealousy, as a taken male should feel. Okay, so there was more confirmation. Much as he adored her, much as he craved her sexually, much as he couldn’t resist her when she stepped inside this room, he wouldn’t have chosen her had circumstances been different.