The Darkest Secret

about her sudden eagerness, the man complied, moving closer.

He pushed her down the moment he reached her, throwing himself on top of her, trying to rip off her jeans. Haidee let him, helped him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her lips into his.

His tongue thrust out, hard, attempting to pry her teeth apart. He needn’t have bothered. She opened willingly, blowing the ice of her breath, the very hate of her soul, straight into his mouth. He convulsed. In shock, perhaps, or maybe in fear. Or even pain. She wanted him to feel pain. Then he stilled, unable to move, literally frozen, but that wasn’t enough. He hadn’t suffered enough.

She shoved him off of her and stood, distantly noting the blue pallor of his skin, the unmoving features, the stiffness of his body. More. She needed more. More ice, more hate, more death. These men deserved to die. Her mind locked on that thought—deserved, deserved, deserved—and glided to the heap of struggling bodies, brushing her fingers over one, then the other. They, too, froze in place, their skin hardening as the ice flowed over them.

More. Deserved. The remaining three offenders noticed the condition of their friends and leapt away from Amun, watching her through horror-filled eyes.

«What — what’d you do?»

«What are you?»

«Don’t come any closer!»

Amun pushed to his feet, stepping away from her, as well. His expression was unreadable.

More. Deserved. She walked toward the men, and they scampered backward, tripping over their own feet, falling. More. Deserved.

Haidee.

«Come,» she said. «Taste me.»

Haidee.

Amun’s voice pushed through some of the ice, but not the hate. She hated these men, knew they had to die by her hand. She reached out. One touch, just a single touch, and she would have what she wanted. Their destruction. Everyone’s destruction. Yes, everyone’s. She had only to finish with these two, and she could move on, destroy everyone.

They crab-crawled backward, desperate to escape her. One of them wasn’t fast enough, and she managed to latch onto his ankle. She grinned. He seemed to turn into stone right before her eyes. More. Deserved.

Haidee, sweetheart. Look at me.

Sweetheart. She liked when Amun called her sweetheart. He made her feel special. A little more of the ice inside her melted. Until she realized her final target was only a few steps away. More. Deserved. Destruction within her reach.

Haidee, sweetheart. Look at me. Please.

Again the ice melted, and this time Amun’s plea reached even her hatred, muting the coldest threads. Slowly she turned to face him. «What do you want?» The frosty rage in her voice stunned her. Upset her. It shouldn’t be directed at Amun.

The last man is gone, sweetheart. You can come back to me now.

Come back to him? What did he mean by that? She was right here, right in front of him. Frowning, she stepped toward him. She would shake him, make him realize.

Like the enemy had done, he backed away. Sweetheart. Your eyes are pure white, and even being near you is painful to me. I need you to come back to me.

Sweetheart again. More of the ice melted, and the hate muted yet another degree, then another, until the emotion was at a low simmer. She hurt him? She didn’t want to hurt Amun. Ever. She just wanted to love… him.

Her knees almost gave out. Love? Did she love him?

As the question echoed through her mind, she swayed, a wave of dizziness sweeping her. Just before she hit the ground, strong arms banded around her and kept her upright.

There you are, sweetheart. I knew you’d come back to me. Amun held her tightly to his side, and to her relief, he didn’t freeze. In fact, his heat wrapped around her, melting the rest of the ice.

«I’m sorry,» she said, voice shaking. «I didn’t mean to—'

Don’t be sorry. You saved our asses. Now come on. We need to get out of here before reinforcements show up.

«Ye seek the Horsemen, do ye? Don’t deny. I heard,» a small voice suddenly said behind them. «Come, come. I show ye.»

Amun turned them both, and when she focused she saw a tiny female with the lower half of a bull and the top half of a human. Small hands waved them forward.

«This be fun,» the female said with a shady giggle. «Come, come, I show ye.» She darted away before they could reply.

We’re going to go with her. We don’t have any other choice.

«Yes, we do. We can choose not to go with her.» With Haidee’s luck, the creature would lead them into a nest of vipers, piranha and rape-minded giants. Oh, wait. Been there, done that. What came next would probably be worse.

My demon went silent the moment you— He stopped himself. The moment she’d…what? Become consumed by the cold? My demon is still silent, which means I can’t figure out where the Horsemen are located. That little female is our only shot. Just don’t let anything happen to me, okay? Amun said with what seemed to be…humor?

No, surely not. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him joke with her before. And really, not many men could tease their woman about being stronger than they were. «I, uh, won’t.»

Thank you. The semblance of a smile curled the corners of his lips as he ushered her forward, quickly closing the distance to reach Bull Girl. The almost-grin stunned her more than his teasing. He was just so beautiful, and as amused as he clearly was, he was also distracting.

Love, she thought again.

She couldn’t love him. She was careful, always careful, to guard her heart. Yes, she lusted for Amun, cared for him, wanted him safe and happy. That didn’t mean she loved him, though. Love weakened, made you vulnerable. Especially love that wasn’t returned.

«Here, here,» the now-bouncing creature said. She stopped in front of the biggest tent in the area, laughter and smoke drifting from the seams in the front flap. «They be here. This be fun.»

Only then did Haidee recall the old woman’s earlier warning. Death. Pain. Screaming.

Soon.

Chapter Twenty-Two

They were smoking cigars and playing poker.

Amun had never seen the four horsemen of the Apocalypse before, but despite the crowd of demons hovering around them, he recognized them instantly. They sat around a table comprised of barbed wire, enveloped in a tobacco-scented haze. Three males, one female, and all four were physically perfect beings. Even more so than Zacharel. Or William.

He studied them. Friend or foe? The female had flaxen hair that waved to her waist, iridescent sparkles woven through the strands, and eyes of the deepest purple. The males were a colorful mix, one raven-haired, one sandy-locked, and one completely bald, his scalp tanned to a golden glow.

They wore clothes very similar to Amun’s. Black shirts, black pants. They were relaxed, laughing seductively as they revealed their cards, then ribbing the losers unmercifully. What gave them away was the color of their auras. Amun had never noticed anyone’s aura before, but these were undeniable. The shades enveloped them like a second skin, the female’s white, one of the males’ red, one black and one a pale green.

The Rainbow Brigade, he thought.