The Darkest Kiss

His entire body tensed. 'Anya, be quiet.'

She whipped around to face him, surprise darkening her eyes. He hadn't spoken to her like that in days. He had been nothing but gentle with her, treating her as he would a precious treasure. That's what she was. But her safety came before her feelings.

'You did not just tell me to—'

'Hunters,' he said, motioning to the ground. He withdrew a dagger from his waist.

Both she and William crowded around him, staring down.

'The prints stop at this wall.' Anya frowned and pressed at the ice. 'There aren't any prints leading away. Weird. Impossible, even.'

'They shouldn't have gotten this far,' William said with a frown of his own.

Lucien withdrew another dagger, this one from his boot. He almost dropped it, it seemed so heavy.

'There has to be a door that leads inside,' Anya muttered, bending down and feeling for grooves with her gloved hands.

He loved that she didn't run from danger but thought to rush into the midst of it. Yet that scared him, too. This woman was meant to be pampered. Worshipped. Protected. She shouldn't have had to fight for anything; whatever she wanted should have been given to her willingly.

'Found it!' Grinning, she pressed against a crystal rock in the middle of the left side and the ice wall slid open, revealing a darkened doorway.

'How is that possible without my knowledge?' William was shaking his head. 'I knew people were journeying into the circle, but I watched them die. Didn't I? Either way, how could they have made a fucking camp for themselves?' Silver, three-pronged blades slithered from his coat sleeves and he clutched them angrily. 'I don't know how many there are, but I'm going to kill them all. Their intentions are not pure; they could have been paid to take me out.'

'Your ferocity is a little late,' Anya said. 'You have to admit that coming out here was a good idea, and you wouldn't have done it without me stealing your book. You can thank me with roses.'

William snorted. 'What the hell ever.'

She turned a concerned gaze to Lucien. 'Why don't you wait here, Flowers, and make sure no one else sneaks inside? We'll be back in a little while and—'

He growled low in his throat, his embarrassment intensifying. That she had so little faith in his ability…No. He knew that wasn't true. She was worried for him. Saw his weakness and didn't want him hurt further.

He knew he was feeble, but he wanted her to realize that he would never allow anything to happen to her. No matter the condition of his body.

He would just have to show her.

'I am going in,' he said firmly.

'Lucien, you're—'

'Fine. I am fine.' He ripped the white cap from his head and tossed it to the ground. He wanted nothing to impede his hearing or his sight. 'We will go in with William in the lead,' he said, taking charge, 'you in the middle and me in the rear.' That way she would have a shield in front and behind.

For a moment, it looked like she would argue. Then she pressed her lips together and nodded. 'Fine.'

'Do you have a gun?' he asked her.

'Only a few daggers.' Three of which she already gripped, he noticed proudly. He hadn't seen her grab them.

'Good. That's good.'

'Let's go,' William said, impatient. 'The more time we spend out here, the more time we give them to prepare.' He brushed past them and entered the blackened mouth of the cave, determination in every line of his body.

Anya pressed a quick kiss on Lucien's mouth and started forward. He was right on her heels. His eyes quickly adjusted, and he saw the icy walls had been painted with mud to cause the gloomy effect. There wasn't a drip of water, it was simply too cold, and any liquid would turn to ice before it hit bottom, but he did hear the frigid whistle of wind.

Wind? His ears perked. No, not wind, he decided a moment later. The chatter of voices.

'—no closer to finding it and we've been searching for days,' a male voice proclaimed.

'The old man said it was here.'

Old man…the mythologist?

'We're close. I feel it.' Another voice. This one sounded harsher, more determined.

'We'll die out here if we stay much longer.' Yet another voice.

So. There were at least three Hunters.

'We can't give up.' A fourth, and so far the angriest of the bunch. 'The demons must be destroyed. Look at what they did to the people in Budapest. That plague killed hundreds, including many of our own.'

'Have the others learned anything from the prisoner?'

Prisoner? He frowned. Who did they have? A Lord? Or other humans?

'Not a damn thing.'

The voices were getting closer. Louder. The darkness was giving way to light as the mud thinned. His grip tightened on the daggers.

'Damn it!' someone cried. 'What if this Hydra is only a myth? What if the stupid relic doesn't exist? What if there's nothing out here and we came all the way to this godforsaken place for no reason?'

'Don't talk like that.'

William stopped at a corner and held up his hand. Anya stopped, too, and Lucien nearly skated into her, his boots slipping on the ice and his coordination off. She reached back and quietly slapped her hands over his hips, blades pressing into him without cutting, keeping him upright and in place.

His cheeks heated with more embarrassment. And, not surprisingly, arousal. Whenever she touched him, wherever they were, whatever danger was near, he felt those electric tingles. He felt warm. He felt alive.

'The Cage of Compulsion is here,' yet another voice said. 'It has to be.'

The Cage of Compulsion. The words echoed in his mind, followed quickly by another: enslave. At the ruins, the human mythologist had told him of a cage that could enslave whoever was imprisoned inside it.

Anya flicked him an excited glance over her shoulder. We're close! she mouthed.

He nodded and looked to William, who was scowling.

'If the mythologists can be believed, we can't get to the box without all four artifacts,' one of the Hunters said. 'That means we don't leave the circle until we have that damn cage.'

William held up one finger.

Lucien wasn't sure if that meant 'hold' or 'attack on three.' He'd only ever fought alongside his fellow warriors, and they'd been together so long they usually sensed each other's intentions.

When the immortal raised a second finger, Lucien had his answer. Apparently William did not like when humans invaded his 'territory.' Lucien drew in a deep breath, barely managing to refrain from jerking Anya behind him. She would resent him if he held her back. More than that, she could defend herself against, well, anyone. She'd proven that many times over.

The soldier in him—hell, the demon in him—recognized her skill, both reveling proudly. The lover in him could not help but continue to fear.

Three.

William lurched forward, blades raised. Anya was right behind him. Lucien's knees almost gave out as he surged after her. She could take care of herself, yes, but he was still her man and would do what he could.

A deafening roar resounded from William, and the Hunters jumped to their feet. In the center, ice cracked. There was a shout, a scream of terror and outrage at being discovered. Eight humans altogether, Lucien counted as they rushed forward.

William quickly stabbed three, one after the other, the action fluid, a lethal dance, his blades slicing forward, back and to the side with grace. Anya dispatched two, flashing to one, slicing his throat, then flashing to another before the human ever realized what was happening.