The Darkest Passion

scrambled to her feet, careful not to make another sound, and Galen ended up slamming into the building.

He straightened. “Doesn’t matter. I can see your footprints. It’s just a matter of following you now.”

Thanks for the warning. She zigzagged left, right, gaze continually moving, searching for a path to safety. Only dirt and gravel greeted her. Which meant anywhere she stepped, he would continue to see her prints. And he did. He followed her.

“Escape me, and I’ll go after Aeron next. I’ll cut off his head while you watch, helpless.”

He was taunting her, trying to trick her into retreating.

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, Olivia moved backward. Still Galen followed. She threw a glance over her shoulder. A hundred yards away was a busy area, with a high-traffic road and many other buildings. Hunters had probably chosen the location as a way of hiding in plain sight, but what they hadn’t counted on was that it would be easier for their prisoners to hide, as well. All she had to do was make it there, and then she would be safe. He would never be able to pick her out.

Problem: he was fast, faster than her, and uninjured. If she ran, he could catch her. Worth the risk.

Drawing on a reservoir of strength she hadn’t known she possessed, she spun around and sprinted forward. There was a crunch of gravel, and she knew that Galen was still hot on her trail. Her entire body screamed in protest each time she threw one leg in front of the other, but she only increased her speed.

Almost there… Galen gripped the Cloak and jerked. Yelping, fisting the material with her free hand to keep it around her, she rounded a corner and slammed into a group of pedestrians. Two fell backward as her shoulder and arm were revealed. Panting, Olivia refit the material around her, then plastered herself against the nearest wall.

She tossed her handful of rocks into a pole. Pop, pop, pop. She watched, hopeful, as Galen soared past her toward the pole, giving chase to where he thought she’d gone.

So close. So close to disaster. But she’d done it. She’d really done it.

Hot breath slammed in and out of her nose, burning her throat and lungs. Sweat was pouring obscenely now, and she probably smelled. Her limbs were once more shaking. Unfortunately, she couldn’t go to the fortress. Galen’s men would be surrounding the place by the time she reached it. She couldn’t call Aeron for a pickup because she didn’t know his number.

She had to do something, go somewhere; she couldn’t stay here. Using the wall to prop herself up, she careened forward, winding around several corners, letting herself become lost in the different crowds and locations. Finally, she spied a shadowed, empty alley and sat. Mistake. The moment her body stilled, she knew she wouldn’t be able to force it into action again. Her muscles clamped down on her bones, and every spark of energy drained.

“Lysander,” she whispered. Waited.

Once again, she received no reply.

Alone. A terrible thought. This wasn’t the best location to hide. Someone could stumble over her invisible legs. More than that, Hunters would probably be searching all the alleys when she failed to reach the fortress. But…

She’d rest her eyes, she thought. Just for a bit. Catch her breath, too. Then she’d pick herself up and start moving again. Except, she must have fallen asleep, because when she finally opened her eyes, still unable to move, she saw that the sun had set and the moon was glowing prettily.

Her pain was magnified, her resolve finally shaken. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go on. Death would be welcome. She wouldn’t fight. She would—

“Olivia,” a male voice said, startling her. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re here. Your spirit trail ends here, but I can’t see you.” A second later, a body materialized.

Lucien. She recognized him, though they’d never been properly introduced, and knew he carried the demon of Death. How appropriate. He could escort her—

“I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you. Aeron’s looking for you.”

Aeron. Death could suck it. With a shaky hand that felt as if boulders anchored it in place, she reached up and tugged the Cloak from her shoulders. “H-here. I’m here.”

Lucien’s eyes widened when she suddenly appeared. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. Everything will be—” He shook his head. “No time to explain what’s going on. There’s a soul at the warehouse where you were tortured, and I need to escort him into the hereafter.”

“His name’s Dominic,” she said in that savaged voice of hers. “He saved me. Be gentle with him, please.”

“I will.” Lucien disappeared.

She folded the Cloak as best she could, expecting—Lucien reappeared with Aeron.

All other thoughts faded. Aeron. Unexpected. Welcome. “I thought you were…the soul…”

“That’s what I’m doing next. See you back at the fortress,” Lucien said, and once again disappeared.

“Oh, baby,” Aeron said gently as he crouched beside her. Despite the gentleness, she could hear his worry and his fury. But he was here, he was safe after the earlier battle. “What did they do to you?”

Like Lucien, she didn’t have time for explanations. “They’re out here, looking for me. Waiting by the fortress.”

He immediately stiffened, his gaze sweeping the area. “No one’s near us. You’re safe. And I’ll call Torin and warn him about what’s going on. Anyone in the area will be taken care of before we get there.” With a tender expression, he withdrew a vial from his pocket and held it to her lips. “Drink, baby, drink.”

She shook her head. There was no need to waste a drop on her. She’d be going home soon and—

Determined, he parted her lips himself and tipped the glass. The cool liquid slid down her throat, more than a sip, and settled wonderfully in her stomach. Within seconds, that liquid was deluging the rest of her, giving her strength, peace. The pain left her entirely, leaving a cool hum of pleasure in its place.

Stubborn man. “You shouldn’t have given me so much.” Even her throat was healed, the words leaving her smoothly.

“I would give you all of it.”

What a sweet thing to say. Sweet and wrong. She didn’t want to hear things like that. Not now. It would make leaving him that much harder. “How did you find me?”

His eyes narrowed. “I knew you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, so I had Lucien hunt down your spirit trail. Which means he saw where you’d been, what paths you’d taken. I will never forgive myself for how long it took us to locate you. And I will murder that fucking bastard Galen if it’s the last thing—”

“Aeron,” she interjected. She wouldn’t have him endangering himself for her. “Just hold me.”

His arms settled under her knees and at her back, and he lifted her, cradling her against his chest. “When we get home, you’re going to tell me everything that was done to you. You might as well tell me what the demons did to you that first night, as well.” With every word, his voice hardened. “And then I’m going to find Galen and the demons and return the favor. No one hurts my woman and lives.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

AERON LAID OLIVIA ON HIS BED as gently as possible. The swelling was gone, her cuts and bones healed, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Legion was absent, and he was glad for that. He didn’t know where she was; all he knew was that he couldn’t deal with her right now. His darling Olivia…when he’d found her…

His hands fisted. Wrath screamed for vengeance, and Aeron wanted to give it to him. Now. No waiting. He wanted Lucien to flash him to wherever Olivia had been held and just start killing. Actually, the “want” was more of a need, like breathing and eating. But the cowards had already run away, the warehouse empty. That much Lucien had told him before carting him into that alley. Not that that mattered to his demon.

Clearly Olivia had been beaten, tormented. Lucien had told him her energy had been bright red with pain and fear. Aeron didn’t care what he had to do to find Galen. He was going to do it and finally kill the bastard.

Slow and painful, Wrath said.

Slow and painful, he agreed. First, though, he would battle past those dark urges and have his promised chat