The Darkest Kiss

Hope filled the air. They were closer to success than ever before, she knew.

'Where should we begin looking when we reach our destinations?' Paris asked. 'Right now, all I know is that I'm supposed to go to the States. As you said, that's a big damn place. With lots of women,' he added as an afterthought. His lips lifted in a slow smile, the strain on his face seeming to ease at just the prospect of fresh meat.

'Where should they look?' Lucien demanded of Anya.

Again, everyone turned to her.

They wanted her help, then they didn't, then they wanted it again. 'What? I'm just a dumb, annoying minor goddess. Not needed. Not wanted. Not—'

'You can go with me,' Lucien snapped.

Ah, such enthusiasm. Irritated, she ran her tongue over her teeth. Still, his demands and growls were better than all those weeks of implacable composure. Huh. Maybe she should push him a little more. 'Sorry. What'd you say?' She cupped a hand over her ear. 'I couldn't hear you.'

'You can go with me,' he repeated loudly. Darkly.

Now she crossed her arms over her chest. Keep pushing like this, and he just might jump you. Please, please, please.

'Are you going to try to kill me?'

'You know I must, but I will give you fair warning before I do.'

She hadn't wanted him to stop, anyway. 'Fair enough.' Could this day have gone any better? Soon she would be traveling alone with him, probably fighting with him. The prospect shouldn't have thrilled her, but it did. She wanted a chance to nurture the desire she'd seen in him earlier, dangerous though that was. 'I accept.'

'Where should we look?' Paris repeated.

'I don't have all the answers, you know.' This kept up, and soon the men would only respect her for her mind. Ugh.

'Anya,' Lucien warned.

'What? I don't! Just have Ashlyn follow any rumors about giant, ugly monsters. That'll probably be Hydra. Oh, and she likes water. So maybe follow rumors about giant ugly monsters spotted near water.'

The men nodded, and she was once more forgotten as they chatted amongst themselves about what supplies they would need, when they would leave and blah, blah, blah.

Anya sidled up to Lucien and ran her fingertip down his sternum. 'We're going to have fun, you and I.'

He had been telling Strider what he knew of South Africa, but his words quickly died. Eyes blazing, he whipped to her. What he meant to say or do, she might never know. She blew him a kiss and disappeared.

CHAPTER EIGHT

AS HE SHOPPED FOR PROVISIONS he would need for his upcoming trip—intermittently collecting eighteen souls and escorting them to their final resting place—Lucien did not feel Anya's burning gaze on him. Nor did he smell her enticing strawberry scent.

Where was she? What was she doing?

Who was she doing it with?

His hands balled, knuckles throbbing, the joints so stiff they felt brittle.

He missed her more than ever. He had gotten used to her presence; nothing felt right when she was gone. Besides, he worried about her. Had Cronus tired of Lucien's halfhearted attempts to slay her and taken it upon himself to destroy Anya?

Now his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. She is fine. Cronus had been unable to kill her, which was why he'd given the task to Lucien. Anya was safe from the god king.

But time is ticking…

Lucien expected the bastard to arrive at any moment and punish him for his failure. Punishment was beginning to matter less and less, however.

He wanted to spend more time with her, and he was about to get his wish. Too bad they weren't heading for Hawaii. But Lucien had known Anya would follow him wherever he chose, so he'd picked the Arctic, the one place he'd thought—hoped—would cool his desire.

Because more than missing her, he desired her. Badly.

He was becoming obsessed with her. Lately all he could think about was stripping her. Licking between her legs, pleasuring her in every way imaginable and even some that weren't. Watching her face while she climaxed. Fisting her hair while she sucked his cock. Lately? Ha!

Even now, he trembled. Trembled like a damned mortal.

His long-neglected body practically sobbed for Anya each time she approached him. Forcing himself to walk away grew more and more difficult. And forcing himself to discourage her advances was even more so.

Stop thinking, finish shopping, he commanded himself as he stalked down the city's paved streets. He'd flashed from the island to Athens, and sunlight shone brightly. Last time he'd been here, all those centuries ago, dead bodies had littered the street and blood had flowed like crimson rivers.

He pushed the image to the back of his mind. The air was crisp and salty. He needed to enjoy this mild weather while he could. All too soon he'd feel the icy blast of the Arctic. With Anya.

Damn this! What would it take to exorcise her from his head completely?

Determined, Lucien made a mental checklist of everything he needed. A coat. Boots. Thermals. Thick socks. And gloves. He would have flashed to Buda and collected everything there, but the items he owned were meant for manageable winters. The Arctic was another story. He'd have to endure freezing winds and snow as far as the eye could see. Perhaps luck would be on his side and he would find Hydra quickly. He placed a call to Maddox and had him ask Torin to search any possible sightings.

What was Anya doing?

He didn't even try to stop the thoughts this time. Obviously, fighting did no good. Anya. In the Arctic. Alone with him. Perhaps finding Hydra quickly would not be such a wonderful thing.

Last time he and Anya had been together in the cold, she'd pushed him into the icy water. The memory shouldn't have made him smile, but it did. Anya, standing on that glacier, waiting for him, then shoving him with all of her strength, had been a beautiful if macabre sight. Even his testicles had frozen.

She had laughed, a tinkling sound of genuine amusement. Heady and seductive. He wanted to hear it again.

Gods, he admired her courage and her tenacity. Anyone else would have cowered at having Death hunt them.

Where was she? he wondered again. Had she finally tired of him?

As he passed a corner shop, he slammed his fists into the wall. Stone abraded skin. Whether Anya was tired of him or not, he would soon have her to himself, away from the other warriors. Hopefully he would learn more from her. Hopefully he would prevent her from learning more from him.

Hopefully he would better do his duty.

His clipped steps slowed, and he forced himself to take in the sights. Emerald trees framed most of the buildings, stretching overhead and casting shadows. There were no cars on the streets—those were prohibited—so people had to walk to their destinations.

Merchants were out in force, selling everything from fruit and vegetables to flimsy scarves to doorknobs. None of which would keep him warm in the Arctic.

'You'll never find what you need here,' Anya said, suddenly keeping pace beside him.

His blood instantly heated as he glanced around, making sure no one had witnessed her sudden appearance. The only people staring at her were men, and he didn't know if they were shocked or simply captivated.

She was lovelier than ever.

Her pale hair was knotted at the base of her neck in an intricate braid and a pink ribbon circled over her ears. She wore a fur-trimmed coat and knee-high boots with a matching trim of fur.

'Where have you been?' he asked, the question harsher than he'd meant it to be. Finally she was with him,