The Darkest Secret

Another reason to hate himself? he mused then. An odd choice of words. Amun didn’t hate himself and never had. He didn’t like some of the things he’d done over his endless lifetime, but hate? No. Unlike some of the other warriors, he wasn’t filled with guilt over his past, either. He’d killed innocents, yes. He’d razed cities to the ground, that, too. But he’d been a puppet, his strings pulled by his demon. So how, then, was he to blame?

Because he should have been stronger? That was what some of his friends thought about themselves. Not him. No one would have been strong enough to stop those demons.

Because he’d helped open Pandora’s box, and deserved the punishment that led to his need for destruction? Nearly all of the Lords thought that, but again, Amun didn’t. Everyone made mistakes, and that had been one of his. You paid the price and then you moved on.

And what of Haidee? he wondered. Was her mistake forgivable? Had she paid the price? Should he move on?

His jaw clenched. He ignored that line of questioning, focusing instead on what he’d do once his day with her was over — or if he wasn’t even given a day. No matter what, he wasn’t going to allow Sabin to have her. When the time came, Amun would simply cart her out of the fortress. And once they left, no one would be able to find them. His demon could do more than steal secrets from those around them. His demon could keep secrets. Distorting memories, even before they were created.

If Amun wanted to disappear forever, he could disappear forever.

He could hide Haidee until he learned how to control the new demons himself. Then…then he didn’t know what he would do with her. Bring her back, he hoped. Do what needed doing, he prayed. Because if he failed to learn the answers he needed, he would be stuck with Haidee forever, destroying his friends.

Plus, Amun added, I plan to talk to her. Learn more about her effect on me.

«Who are you trying to fool? Yourself or me? We both know that’s a lie. You’re not thinking with you brain right now, my man.» The last was snapped, as if the warrior had reached the end of his patience. «You want to fuck her, end of story.»

Well, Amun had reached the end of his patience, too. What we both know is that you aren’t thinking with your brain, either.

There was a momentary splash of astonishment over Strider’s face before the warrior smoothed his features into a blank expression that matched his earlier tone. «Stay out of my head.»

Control your thoughts, Amun signed. I know you desire her. Now I’ll hear you admit it.

The tip of Strider’s tongue traced over the straight line of his teeth. «Fine. I want her. But I’m not going to do anything about it. I’m not going to let it stop me from winning our war.» At least he didn’t try to deny his feelings. «Can you say the same?»

Amun merely raised his chin. I can’t say anything.

«Funny. That’s not what I meant and you know it.»

Well, that’s all you’re going to get from me.

«Fine,» Strider snarled, pushing to his feet. «I’m leaving before you provoke my demon any more. You’ve got your day, but I’d be careful if I were you. When you least expect it, she’s gonna go for your head. Guaranteed. And maybe that doesn’t concern you. Maybe you even want to die. Yeah, I saw what you did to yourself. But guess what? Not for a single moment are any of the rest of us ready to deal with your loss. So why don’t you think about that before you put your life on the line for our enemy?»

Chapter Ten

Two seconds after Strider barricaded himself inside his own bedroom, he had his phone in hand and was texting Lucien. He couldn’t deal with this. He’d reached his bullshit limit.

At fortress. Come get me. Now.

It was nice, having a friend who could flash from one location to another with only a thought.

Within five minutes, his friend materialized a few feet away from him. Lucien was winded, barreled chest rising and falling shallowly. A sheen of sweat covered his entire torso. His mane of black hair shagged around his severely scarred face, and his multicolored eyes were bright. He was shirtless, his butterfly tattoo practically crackling with electricity on his left shoulder. His unfastened pants were barely staying on his hips. To top it all off, tension radiated from the man.

«What the hell were you doing?» Strider asked from his closet. He’d already strapped himself with weapons, but a few moments before had decided a couple more blades wouldn’t hurt. Well, wouldn’t hurt him.

One of Lucien’s black brows practically knitted into his hairline. «Who the hell do you think I was doing?»

O-kay, then. Lucien had been in bed with Anya. For a moment, Strider almost forgot how pissed he was with Amun and Haidee as he savored the fact that he’d just cock-blocked the keeper of Death. Almost. «Anyone ever tell you that you shouldn’t check your messages while you’re rolling around in bed?»

«Yes. Anya. And believe me, I’m going to pay for this.» His deep baritone was amused and excited rather than fearful at the thought of incurring his volatile female’s wrath. «Here’s a news flash for you. No matter what I’m doing, I check my messages when I’m worried about leaving my friends at home with a contingent of angels, when one of my men is sick, or when a Hunter is in residence. And when all three are happening at once? I check even when I don’t have messages. So. What’s wrong? Why did you summon me? Amun okay?»

Strider shoved an extra clip for his.22 into his pocket as he abandoned the confines of the walk-in. «Amun’s great. Better. The problem’s me. I gotta take off for a little while.» For his sanity, yes, but mostly for Amun’s safety.

Amun had lifted the fragile Haidee into his battered arms and carried her to his bed. He had tucked her under the covers, so careful not to jostle her, and climbed in beside her. Strider didn’t think Amun realized this, but the warrior had caressed the woman during their entire conversation, as if the need to touch her was already ingrained in his soul.

A sense of challenge had begun to rise inside of Strider. For Haidee, a godsdamn Hunter. Worse, a godsdamn killer. He’d wanted to win her from Amun and claim her for his own, and the want had been far more intense than his usual «that’s mine and I’m not sharing» mind-set.

If Strider stayed here, he would eventually give in. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. His demon would badger him constantly, and in the end, he would fight his friend, hurt his friend — because no way in hell would he pull his punches like he’d done the first time — and hate himself.

Hate. Huh. He’d never hated himself. If anything, he’d always liked himself a little too much. Once, a human female had even accused him of picturing his own face while he climaxed. He hadn’t denied it, either, and next time he’d slept with her, he’d made sure to scream, «Strider» at the pivotal moment.

She hadn’t appreciated his sense of humor, and that had been the final nail in their relationship coffin. He was too intense, too jaded, too warped and too…everything for most women to take for long. But so what. He was made of awesome. Anyone who couldn’t see that wasn’t smart enough to be with him, anyway.

Haidee, though… She would be able to take him. With her strength of will, her courage, her unbending and reckless spirit, she would match him. Maybe even surpass him.

That is the key player in Baden’s murder you’re thinking about.

Hadn’t mattered to Amun, he thought darkly. Why should it matter to him?

Fuck! He hated those thoughts.

Hated. There was that word again.

«—listening to me?» he heard Lucien ask with exasperation.

«Sorry,» he muttered. «Say again.»

Sighing, Lucien strode to the bed and sat at the edge of the mattress. Strider’s gaze followed his friend,