The Darkest Secret

cell, she felt pretty certain she would have thrown herself into his arms.

She scrubbed a shaky hand down her face. What was happening to her common sense? Her well-honed self-preservation instincts?

Micah was the first boyfriend she’d allowed herself in centuries, and only because she had dreamed of him first. But she hadn’t needed him, hadn’t been lost without him. She paused and peered down at her tattooed arm. At his name, branded so deeply into her flesh. M-i-c-a-h. She traced the letters with a scabbed fingertip. There was no leap in her pulse, no hum of desire.

She thought the name Amun.

Goose bumps broke out over every inch of her skin. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly flooded with moisture. See? Reaction. Always. And that wasn’t good. Not good at all.

What if…what if she hadn’t dreamed of Micah? What if she’d dreamed of Amun? Did that mean Amun was a bad memory trying to surface? Or, like the visions he had showed her of her past, was he something good?

Neither made sense, really. One, in the visions, she knew the man she saw was her key to happiness, to freedom. Two, how could a demon-possessed immortal, responsible for the travesty that was her life — and her parents’ and sister’s deaths — be something good?

She kicked back into motion, her sure strides eating up the distance from one cell wall to the other. A better question: How could a demon-possessed warrior be the one thing she craved? The one thing she didn’t think she could live without?

Live. Without. The words echoed through her mind, and she stumbled to another halt. Her stomach twisted, sharp little knots forming, cutting. No. No, no, no. She purposely kept her home and belongings sparse, her friendships casual. That way, she could pick up and leave without a moment’s notice or regret.

She could live without him. She could. He was a mystery right now. A mystery she needed to solve. That was all.

Another complication sprouted. If the warrior she craved was Amun, he wouldn’t want her when he discovered the truth about her. The fact that he’d kissed her meant he hadn’t realized who she was and what she’d done to his friend, Baden. When he did, he would want to kill her, not pleasure her.

But he knew you were a Hunter. You told him. Still. Easier to forgive a run-of- the-mill Hunter, she thought, than the Hunter who had helped behead his friend — and planned to do the same to all the others.

Footsteps suddenly resounded. Haidee swung around, facing the cell door. She tensed, waiting, dreading. A few seconds later, the blond, blue-eyed keeper of Defeat rounded the corner and approached her prison. Bile burned a path up her throat. His pretty features were devoid of emotion, but his skin was pale, the tracery of his veins evident.

Though her heartbeat sped up, thumping erratically, she didn’t back away, wouldn’t act the coward.

«How are you feeling?» she asked, just to taunt him. «Have a tummy ache?»

Both of his sandy brows arched into his hairline, his eyes glittering dangerously. His gaze perused her from top to bottom, purposely lingering at her breasts, between her legs. «I’m feeling like I can do anything I want with you.» Calmly yet brutally uttered, his threat clear. «Anything.»

That wasn’t the answer she’d expected, and she scowled at him. But then, she should have known he wouldn’t simply endure her snide remarks. He always had to one-up her. So. Enough pleasantries.

«Where’s the warrior?» she demanded. «The one I was with?»

«You mean Amun, keeper of the demon of Secrets?» So calm, so certain. «Or your boyfriend?»

Secrets, he’d said. Just as she’d suspected. The confirmation explained so much. The knots in her stomach twisted into themselves, sharpening further. Still, she wouldn’t confirm or deny what she knew. «Maybe that’s what you want me to believe. That he’s masquerading as a Hunter, while in reality, he’s really your friend.» The words croaked from her. «Or maybe you just want me to hate my own boyfriend. Maybe you want me to hurt him and afterward, you’ll taunt me, laugh at me.»

«Now why would I want that, huh? If he’s my friend, demon-possessed like me, yet I told you he wasn’t, that he was your man, you would do your best to watch over him. And I would want my friend watched over, wouldn’t I?» Strider propped his shoulder against the bar, and though his head was turned, his hard gaze remained fixed on her. «But if he isn’t, if he is your boyfriend, why would I give the pleasure of killing him to you, even for a joke?»

Her chin lifted a notch, her stubborn core refusing to be cowed. Despite his sound reasoning. «Why would you admit he was your friend, then? Thereby placing him in danger?»

«So I’ve admitted he’s Amun, have I?»

No, he hadn’t. He’d only questioned her thoughts on the matter, probably trying to confuse her. «I don’t care who he is.» Either way, he belonged to her. That was a fact she couldn’t argue, even with herself. «I just want to see him, make sure he’s okay.»

«Want, want, want.» He tapped a finger against his chin. «Who said anything about giving you what you want?»

She popped her jaw, still refusing to show him emotion. «Why are you here, Defeat?»

«We’ll get to that in a minute. First, I have some questions for you.»

«And I have every intention of answering them,» she said, sugar sweet.

«You will if you want to see your…man again.» The last was gritted, as if the prospect bothered him.

«You just told me I wouldn’t get what I wanted.»

«No, I didn’t. Think back. I asked you who said you would.»

True. Bastard. But would he honor his word? The Lords of the Underworld were not known as givers in her world. «After you just taunted me with never seeing him again, you expect me to believe you’ll escort me back to his room if I give you answers you won’t believe anyway?» Or bring Amun here, she thought, but didn’t say the words aloud. No reason to put ideas into his head if they weren’t already there.

He shrugged. «You’re right. I was merely taunting you. Can you blame me, though? You bring out the worst in me, and I struck back.»

She wanted to yell at him to continue but remained silent, waiting.

«So,» he prodded. «We gonna do this? Answers in exchange for a little sightseeing?»

«Yes,» she gritted out. She had no other recourse. He might be lying, but she was willing to risk Hunter secrets on the hope that he’d follow through. And that’s what he would demand, she thought. Secrets. «Let’s hammer out a few details before I start spewing info. When will you take me to him? A few years from now?» She wouldn’t put such a trick past him.

A muscle ticked below his eye. «I’ll take you immediately following our conversation.»

«As if you’ll keep your word,» she said, raising her chin another notch. She might be willing to risk everything, but that didn’t mean she would be stupid about it. The terms needed to be laid out flat, ironed and starched. Just in case. To do that, she would have to provoke him. Some things had to be offered without her prompting.

His eyes narrowed to tiny slits, the top and bottom lashes catching and twining. «Challenge me, then. Challenge me to keep it.»

Like that. Had she challenged him on her own, he would have punished her. «Is he even alive?» Even asking, she wanted to cry. You can live without him, she reminded herself. She just didn’t want to.

Oh, God. He already meant that much to her? Despite who and what he might be? Despite how he would hate her?

«Yes,» Defeat said. «He is. Though his condition has worsened.»

Her heart thumped against her ribs. «How many questions? There has to be a limit.»

He gave another negligent shrug. «Five. And your answers had better be truthful.»

How will you know if they are or aren’t? she almost asked, just to taunt him as he’d taunted her, but she didn’t. The outcome of this was too important. «All right. I–I challenge you to take me to see Micah — Amun — after I answer five questions honestly.» If he punished her for the challenge, anyway, it would be no more than she deserved for allowing him to trick her.

Defeat’s pupils gobbled up his irises as he jerked his head once in a stiff nod. «I accept.» His hands fisted.