The Darkest Kiss

No falling for her, either. No craving more. Sooner rather than later, she would die. To be her lover, as well as her executioner, would make him as despicable as the demon inside him.

'Aren't you going to play with me?' she asked in that husky voice of hers. 'Aren't you going to kiss me? Soon is now.'

'Anya.' He didn't know what else to say. His heavy weight pinned her down and her legs parted farther, causing him to sink deeper. He was still impossibly hard, and his erection was rubbing at her of its own damn accord, their clothing adding to the electric friction.

She bit the cord of his neck and rocked into him, prolonging the contact. He gripped her hips to still her, and the action cost him dearly. He had to grit his teeth against the wild surge of denied lust.

'I like this game,' she said breathlessly. 'Any rules?'

'Just one,' he forced past a clenched jaw.

'Tell me.' Her knees rubbed his sides, beckoning him even deeper.

'The only rule…' He raised his hands and cupped her cheeks, his thumb caressing her velvet-soft skin. Oh, that he could stay here forever. Or that he could bask in her, if only for a little while. 'The only rule is that you are to stay here.'

'Mmm, I love to break—hey. What?' She frowned up at him. 'Stay here with you, right?'

'No.' He rose from the bed, severing all contact. His body screamed in protest; his demon cursed at him. Of all Lucien's crimes, leaving her like this suddenly seemed the worst.

Her frown deepened. 'Lucien? What—' She tried to raise her arms but couldn't. Her narrowed gaze slid to the headboard, lingered for a moment as she gave another jerk, then returned to him. 'I don't understand.'

'The only pleasure you will receive in that bed is the pleasure you give yourself.' For now.

Gods, don't think like that.

'I'm down with that. But if you want to watch me pleasure myself, you'll have to remove the chains.'

Again not the response he'd expected; he wanted to groan. Anya…hand between her legs…rubbing her clitoris…bringing herself to orgasm…If imagining was wholly erotic and utterly breathtaking and caused his knees to weaken like a human's, what would actually witnessing the event be like?

'Stay here,' he choked out, 'and stay quiet. I'll come back for you. You have my word.'

'Come back for me?' Now her eyes widened. 'Where are you going? And you had better say to get a whip and a spiked collar because you want nothing more than to be my bitch or you'll regret it.'

'I'm going back to the temple. I'll return as soon as the Hunters have been defeated.'

A shocked gasp slipped from her. Perhaps there was hurt mixed in, as well, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. 'I can flash with you. Chains can't hold me.'

'These can. They were made for immortals.'

A second passed. Another.

She stared over at him, mouth drawn tight. He much preferred that mouth soft—and all over his body. Any chance of that had been ruined by his actions today, he would not doubt. It was better this way, he told himself, but he couldn't halt a surge of bitter regret.

'You're saying I can't flash?' she gritted out.

'That is exactly what I am saying.'

'And you're going to leave me like this?'

'Yes. Behave,' he said and left her, materializing in the exact spot he'd abandoned.

The moment those lush blades of grass surrounded him, guilt and need flooded him. Guilt because he'd left her helpless. Need because, well, he had the memory of being on top of her inside his mind, fresh, taunting. Wondrous.

And she had seemed to want him. Until he'd ruined it.

What was he going to do with her? The woman was tying him into knots!

She probably hated him now. She would never forgive him. She—appeared right beside him and punched him the eye.

'Bastard,' she snarled.

Amazement and pain pounded through him as he gazed at her. Damn, but she was strong. She'd managed to crack the bone, he suspected, the injury swelling. 'How did you get free?' Those chains had been unbreakable for centuries.

'I have my ways.'

'How?' he insisted.

'I can't be locked up, okay? No matter what restraints you use, I can't be contained. And if you ever do something like that again…' Her hands tightened into fists. 'Freedom is everything. You know that better than most since you were forced to harbor a demon. You were even bound to take your friend's soul every night for centuries. An obligation I helped free you from. Remember that? For you to try and take my freedom…Oh! I could seriously saw you in half with one of my fingernails.'

Better this way, remember? 'Those chains have been used on gods and have never failed. Only the key can unlock them, and I have that in my pocket.'

'Big fucking deal, you son of a bitch. I told you I was powerful—not my fault you failed to listen. I'm helping fight the Hunters now and you'll be lucky if my aim doesn't accidentally-on-purpose veer and kill you. In fact, I don't think I'll wait for you.' She glanced over at the tunnels and counted with a point of her finger. 'See you in the…second one over, sweetcakes. That's where the biggest, baddest Hunter was, last time I checked. I'll just pretend he's you and nail his ass to the wall.'

She disappeared a moment later, leaving only a cloud of strawberries, cream and smug fury. Damn this! He gave a whistle and leapt forward. The now impatient warriors sprang forth, as if tethers had been sliced.

Silent, they kicked aside leaves and twigs. When Lucien reached the second tunnel, Gideon's, he tossed the makeshift roof and let himself fall inside, not wanting to flash and startle his men. Gideon frowned but didn't comment as he followed him down. Each of them had weapons raised and ready.

There was a grunt. A shout. Lucien tensed, looking…looking…damn it, he didn't see Anya, nor did he see—

Hunters. There. Two, over in the corner. One was beating an older human male and the other was subduing a middle-aged male. Both prisoners were begging the Hunters to stop.

'Tell me what I need to know,' one Hunter said, his reasonable tone at odds with the violence of his actions, 'and the pain ends. That's all you have to do.'

'I'm sick of coming back empty-handed,' the other—the tallest and most muscled—added just as reasonably, kicking the older man in the stomach.

There was a hmph. The younger man yelled, 'Stop. Just stop. He doesn't know anything else!'

'He does. He has to. Tell us or die. Those are your only options right now.'

The kicker stepped forward, leaned down toward the prisoners' faces. 'You pick death, and it's not going to be quick and gentle, you get me? You'll die, piece by piece.'

'Just leave my father alone.' The younger man had thrown his arms around the older one, shielding him with his own body. 'I swear to you, we've told you everything we know. Just let us go. Please.'

'You haven't. You're protecting those demons, might even be working with them.'

As if she'd been waiting for Lucien's arrival, Anya appeared beside the biggest Hunter and simply slit his throat before he knew she was there. His body sagged to the ground, and she flicked Lucien a look-what-I-did grin.

She'd just killed a man, violently, without hesitation, and was covered in blood. Seeing her grin about what she'd done shook Lucien's world on its axis. She was a lush and beautiful angel; she was also a killer. Like him.

Though he was intoxicated by the sight of her still, wanted to bask in her, Lucien still managed to toss two daggers at the second Hunter. One embedded in the man's throat, the other in his thigh. Both were kill spots, and rather than choose, he'd decided two were better than one. Just in case. He didn't like how close Anya was to the action, immortal or not. She could be hurt, and the thought of one of these Hunters touching her sparked a deep rage inside him.