The Darkest Passion

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING,” Aeron whispered an hour later. “It’s too dark.” An unnatural darkness, at that. There wasn’t a speck of light, and the flashlight he’d brought with him highlighted nothing, merely disappearing into the yawning thickness of gloom.

“The night Lysander appeared to me, he told me I would remain an angel in all the ways that mattered until my time expired,” Olivia said. “I think I can—”

“Shh. Inside voice.” He didn’t want her to become a target. In fact, the thought enraged him, but he only had himself to blame. He shouldn’t have brought her here, whether Nightmares was a threat or not. He just—he hadn’t wanted to leave her within striking distance of Legion. Or touching distance of Torin. And he had promised to show Olivia the harsh realities of his life.

I’m such a fool. A fool drowning in a storm of his own making. Desire for Olivia— check, that hadn’t lessened. Had only grown. A jealous, bloodthirsty pseudo-daughter determined to end his angel —check. A vow to convince said angel to return home—check, even though he now hated himself for that vow. Send her away, never knowing how she fared? Torture!

“She’s sleeping,” Olivia said, and that, too, was stated at top volume.

“She can awaken,” he gritted out. He’d never minded the dark, but as he inched down the steps and felt his way along the walls of Scarlet’s home, which just happened to be an underground crypt in the local cemetery, bumping into—furniture? coffins?—and having no idea what waited ahead, the possibility of leading Olivia into slaughter caused tendrils of fear to blend with his rage. How could he protect her like this?

“She won’t awaken, I promise. Anyway. As my time has not yet expired, maybe I can…”

As Olivia’s words trailed off, he stopped, pivoted. She knocked into him and humphed. Even though he’d felt her only briefly, he savored the contact. Soft, warm. Exhilarating. That’s all his body needed to ready itself. Again.

Mine, Wrath said.

I know. You’ve told me. Over and freaking over again. And Aeron had let him, had stopped caring. Because…No. Don’t go there.

A moment passed in silence, their breathing the only sound. The air was musty, thick with age, dust and death, but he would’ve been content to wait here forever. Here, she was safe. Here, they were together.

“Can what?” he finally prompted.

“This.” Pinpricks of light flickered.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes. Those pinpricks were actually sparking off her skin, he realized, blending together and growing in intensity. Growing so much she was soon chasing away the shadows and his eyes were tearing.

“How—”

Slowly she grinned, her beautiful face illuminated, shining like the purest star, those dark lashes framing those sky-blue eyes. He could have kissed the breath right out of her. Don’t you dare. But now that he knew her taste, now that he’d felt her rub against him, how was he supposed to resist?

Legion. Lysander. Freedom.

Oh, yeah. He could have cursed.

“Humans were sometimes trapped in darkness, and I had to show them the way out.” Olivia shifted from one foot to the other, and motioned behind him with a tilt of her chin. “Scarlet is just around the corner. I can sense her.”

“Thank you.” Motions stiff, Aeron forced himself to turn away. His eyes immediately mourned the loss of her.

Wrath, too, howled in protest.

Calm. We’re still with her. Aeron led his charge down the correct dirt path and soon found himself standing in a makeshift bedroom. Pikes sprung from several places in the floor, gleaming sharply and anchored firmly by concrete. Between them were trip wires, and at the far end of the room, guarded by the entire fun zone, was a coffin.

Why a coffin? Because she could close herself in for better protection? Smart woman, if so.

He palmed a blade and closed the distance, dodging those pikes. Olivia stayed close to his heels, every step measured.

“Careful,” he muttered. “Stay behind me.” He flipped open the lid, halfway expecting a fight.

Nope. As Olivia had promised, Scarlet slept peacefully, completely unaware of his intrusion. He studied her. Silky black hair framed her seemingly delicate face. She hadn’t looked delicate before, when she’d cornered him in that alley. Her lashes were longer than he’d realized, like feathered fans reaching for her cheekbones. She had a small nose, and her lips were redder than before.

She wore a T-shirt and jeans, both black, and weapons were strapped all over her body. She didn’t disarm, even to sleep. Interesting. Even he removed his blades before crawling into bed. He kept them nearby, of course, but not on him.

Relaxing, his gaze shifted. The walls were dirt, just like the floor, and there were blades peeking from several locations. Anyone who fell, either into the wall or onto the floor, would tumble straight to their death.

Nightmares could have placed traps at the doorway or even on the steps leading down here, but hadn’t. Why? Perhaps she’d known the unerring gloom would frighten most people—most innocents—away. But the ones who persisted, the ones who kept going, would clearly have more sinister intentions. Perhaps those were the only people she wanted to hurt.

If that were the case, that would mean she killed discriminately. That would mean there was a line she wouldn’t cross. Or perhaps she just liked the kills to be made nearby, so that the first thing she would see when she awoke was blood and death.

Either way, the woman was serious about protecting herself.

He almost hoped she would rouse and attack him. He needed a battle. His nerves were on edge and bloodshed would have calmed him. Too many things were happening, changing. Too many things were going wrong.

Baden’s demon finding a new host, thanks to Galen. Discovering Cronus and Rhea were possessed. Everything with Olivia, of course, and her naughty clothes and searing kisses, with her irresistible suggestions (just then, he almost missed the voice) and her attempted seduction of another man, all of which were like matches on the kindling of his arousal. And jealousy. And anger.

Yes, he needed to kill someone today.

And if all of that wasn’t enough to deal with, Legion looked at him the way he wanted Olivia to look at him. She’d made a pact with the creator of evil, and she’d blatantly lied to him about it. There at the end, just before leaving her behind, there’d been no more deluding himself about that. Sly determination had practically poured off her.

What was he going to do about her? How was he supposed to handle her? He still loved her like a daughter, still planned to keep her in his life. No way would he abandon her. There just…there had to be a solution.

Don’t think about that now. You have a job to do. The job. Right. So. Back to Scarlet, the problem at hand. Did Galen know about her?

“She used to live in a church,” Olivia said guiltily, before he could tell her they needed to leave. “But that didn’t work out for her.”

Why the guilt? Because she’d led him here? Probably. Careful. He couldn’t let her guilt spark his own. “I believe I asked you to be quiet.”

“I told you. She’s not going to wake up.”

“How do you know?” Silly question. Olivia knew everything, it sometimes seemed. Which meant Sabin was going to love her. Information was the man’s best friend. Thank Olivia’s One True Deity she would be gone before the warrior returned. Aeron would hate to have to stab his friend for interrogating his woman.

At the thought, Wrath chortled with glee.

Well, maybe he wouldn’t hate stabbing the warrior. He owed Sabin, after all. And she’s not your woman! “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. We have to hurry before we