The Darkest Secret

She was amazing. She had survived the only way she’d known how, with grit, courage and determination, never realizing she was battling herself as well as the forces poised against her. With Hate a part of her, she probably shouldn’t have been able to love — by her own admission, loving wasn’t easy for her — but again she had proven just how amazing she was. Her love was stronger than the darkness inside her.

He held her until she settled, caressing her and whispering to her, then kissed her temple. I want you to know that I’m not going away, sweetheart, and I’m not going to regret choosing you. I’m with you, now and always, just like I said.

«How can you love me?» she asked between hiccups.

How can you love me?

«I just do. You’re a part of me.»

Exactly.

Her arms squeezed at him again, and he felt her chilly sigh. «The demons have been purged from you,» she said sleepily. «We don’t have to stay down here anymore.»

She was right. He should have realized. He’d already planned to leave, but now their mission was actually completed. Funny, but he found he wasn’t quite ready to abandon their cave. He wanted his woman all to himself for just a little longer. Let’s get some rest, and when we wake up, we’ll find a way to summon Zacharel. He brought us here, so he can return us to the fortress. If he didn’t, well, they would simply find another way.

Nothing was impossible. He knew that now.

«All right,» she said.

Before we go, though, we’re going to use the pack to summon the proper tools to tattoo you. He wanted Micah’s name erased and his own added. All over. On every limb, finger and toe, so that she would always know the name of the man she belonged with.

«Good idea. Yours can be the first name on my un-inked arm.»

More than my name. There’s going to be an entire paragraph dedicated to how much you love me.

She chuckled, and the husky sound delighted him. Turned him on. Hell, everything about her turned him on.

Who are the others tattooed on your arm? Skye? Viola?

«Skye saved my life once. We were prisoners, and I was too injured to escape on my own. And Viola is possessed by the demon of Narcissism. See how the i is dotted with an x? We fought. I don’t remember the outcome.»

Secrets could help her with that.

We’ll need to send you notes about me, then. Pictures, too. If he could find a camera that could capture his face, that is. Somehow his demon managed to distort even drawings of him. Still. He wasn’t taking any chances. Yes, he was going to do everything in his power to defend her, would even die for her, shield her with his own body, but damn it, all their bases were going to be covered. Just in case.

«Another good idea,» she said after a big yawn.

Sleep now, sweetheart.

«Yes.» She drifted into sleep almost immediately, her body relaxing against his.

He wanted every night to end exactly this way. With Haidee on top of him, sated and trusting him to keep her safe. And he wanted to awaken each morning with her still in his arms. They’d make love, talk and share, drown in each other.

He was smiling as he, too, drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Claws scraped against a nearby wall. «Haidee.» The eerie howl of her name echoed, blending with the swish of a robe.

Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

Haidee’s eyelids popped open, dread already curling in her stomach. She knew those sounds, knew that voice. Only a nightmare, she told herself, or another realm of hell. Trust no one and nothing. Except Amun. A lesson she’d learned well.

«Little Haidee,» the voice sang, a whisper. «I know you’re close by. I can smell you.»

Please be a nightmare or another realm of hell, she thought desperately.

«You cannot hide from me, little Haidee. You have what’s mine. Mine, mine, mine.» Scraaape. «Hay…dee…finally, you’re going to give it back.»

Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

«Hay…dee… You hid when you were a little girl, too. Do you remember? I do. The screams, the splatter. The pleas. Your sister squealed like a pig when the blade sank into her belly. Your mother begged me to stop, to take you away. Your father, well, he was the first to die, wasn’t he?»

She cringed, fought a wave of sickness. No, not a nightmare, not another realm. There was too much glee in that tone. Too much truth to the memory.

Hate was here.

Somehow, the demon had found her. Had come for her. Again.

Denial roaring through her head—not now, please not now—she jackknifed to her feet, wild gaze already searching. She didn’t see him, but that didn’t lessen her dread. She was still in the cave, Amun lying on the pallet he’d made for them.

He must have awoken at her movement, or maybe he’d heard the bastard’s taunts. His eyes were already open. He sat up stiffly, pulled on a pair of pants and grabbed two blades without pausing to clear his head.

He asked no questions. Maybe he didn’t have to. Since making love that second time, they’d been utterly attuned to each other, and she’d actually felt his emotions for her, the sweet depths of his love.

«Haidee.» Hate was closer now. «Come out, come out wherever you are.»

Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

No. No, no, no. The memory would not consume her. Since meeting Amun, she’d barely thought of that night and thought perhaps she was finally healing. She would not be distracted. Not this time.

She dressed as swiftly as Amun had, then weaponed up. She’d known this day would come. She just hadn’t expected it to come now. No warnings, no sensing Hate’s approach. Just hello, terror.

Actually, no. The old crone at the circus had tried to warn her, hadn’t she? «Soon» had finally arrived.

Amun tugged her toward the only entrance to the cave, pressed her to the side, out of striking distance, then turned and waited, ready to attack. His shoulder pressed into the center of her chest, holding her in place.

«Haidee girl. Dead girl. You have what’s mine. You’re not going to die before I can take it. Not this time. That will come after.»

Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

Her molars ground together. «What are you planning? He’s not like your friends,» she whispered. «Not human in any way.»

I know, Amun finally said, dark and menacing as their thoughts merged. Secrets knows. He is more than immortal. He is a child of a goddess. Of Themis. Her son. Always he enjoyed killing, suffering. That’s why he was sent to Tartarus.

She couldn’t hide her sudden spike of terror. Not from Amun. Her breathing grew shallow. Hate was the child of a goddess. A god himself. How would they defeat a god?

Secrets flashed images of Hate through Amun’s head, which in turn caused them to flash in hers. He was fast, too fast, his strength unparalleled. Haidee was the only person who’d ever walked away from him, and she’d done so only because the cold had surprised him. He wouldn’t be surprised this time.