“No. There are a few others, but they keep their distance from me. I don’t know why. I’m as sweet as a sugar cookie. Not that I’ve gotten to enjoy one lately,” Baden grumbled. “Pandora, though…” He shuddered. “She also resides here and she does
Again Aeron battled back his shock. Pandora. The woman who’d been given charge of
Once he’d despised her. Now…so many years had passed since he’d even thought of her, he couldn’t dredge up the hate. Was he overjoyed to know she was here and nearby, however? Hell, no.
“Why haven’t you killed her?” he asked. “Again.”
“He’s not strong enough,” a female said from behind them.
In unison, they spun. Pandora rested against one of the columns, arms crossed over her chest.
Seeing her, even though he’d been warned of her presence, was like being punched in the face with brass knuckles. Aeron looked her over. Like him and Baden, she was tall and muscled, though on a much smaller scale. Her brown hair hit her chin and trapped her face. A face too harsh to be pretty. Her eyes were gold. Too gold. Too bright. Otherworldly. And filled with disdain.
The same look she’d always given him in the heavens.
Ah. There was his old sense of loathing, rising inside him, filling him. Even in death he was to have an enemy, it seemed.
“Must be my birthday,” she said with a cruel smile. “One by one the men who sent me here have decided to join me.”
“You’re mistaken. The gift is mine. Now your eternal torment can be ensured.”
She stepped toward him—to attack?—but stopped herself and offered another smile. “So. How’s Maddox? Dying, I hope.”
Maddox had been the one to kill her. The warrior had been lost to his demon, Violence, and had stabbed her, over and over again. “You’ll be disappointed to know he’s well. He’s even expecting a child.”
Breath hitched in her throat. “Is he now? How wonderful.” She exhaled, and with the release, a dam seemed to break inside her. “That bastard! He doesn’t deserve to be happy! He killed me, allowed my box to be stolen, and now no one knows where it is. It’s our ticket out of here, but
“Oh, get over yourself already.” Baden tossed Aeron a see-what-I’ve-had-to-endure look. “Gods. You’re just as much of a bitch now as you were then.”
Silence. Panting. Her eyes narrowed on the redhead. “Feeling invincible now that you have a friend to protect you?”
“Hardly. I’m invincible either way.”
They continued to bicker, but Aeron tuned them out, his attention locked on part of Pandora’s impassioned speech. Finding the box,
Would she be able to see him?
Yes or no, he didn’t care. He would be able to see her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
OLIVIA STOOD in front of the Heavenly High Council, life and death in their hands for the second time. For days she’d pleaded her case, refusing to give up or leave, but they’d continued to reject her, too satisfied with the outcome. Aeron was dead, as they’d wanted, and Legion returned to hell. Her home. Something Lysander hadn’t fully explained to Aeron.
She splayed her arms, her wings, and turned, letting them see her. All of her. Aeron’s blood had been cleaned from her robe, but not her hands. She hadn’t let her hands even graze the material. She wanted those in charge to see what they had wrought.
Her gaze locked with every member, perched as they were atop their thrones. They were beautiful, each of them. Strong and proud and pure. They felt justified. They felt exonerated. They did not flinch under her probing stare.
At last, a murmur arose.
Hope bloomed once again.
“What do you mean?” one of the males asked her.
“Allowing you to return here was not meant to be a punishment, but a privilege.”
“I love Aeron. I cannot be happy without him.”
“You can,” one of the females said. “You just need time to—”
“No! No time. I deserve to be as joyful as I have made thousands of others, and I have told you what that will entail.”
This time, there were no murmurs. Only silence. Heavy silence. Defeating silence. Still she didn’t bow her head or apologize for her impudence. She wouldn’t back down. Not about this. If they would not give Aeron back to her, she would die with him.
He would not die alone.
“Good men are slain all the time, Olivia. That is the price of free will.” Another of the females, her tone softer now, bearing a hint of compassion.
Murmurs again. And then, finally, a sigh.
“Perhaps something can be arranged….”
THE DAYS PASSED in quick succession, one fading into another. Aeron spent all of his time with Baden. They talked, laughed, cried and caught up, all the while dissecting possible locations for Pandora’s box. His determination to find that box was stronger than ever. Not to stop the Hunters—though that would be a wonderful bonus—but for Olivia.
He found that he didn’t need to sleep, and he didn’t need to eat. He merely existed in the endless white, his resolve unwavering.
So far, they’d developed a few good theories. The box was hidden in plain sight. Perhaps stored in a realm like this one, no one able to flash inside. Perhaps buried at the bottom of the sea. Who had taken it, though, and why, they still hadn’t figured out.
“I want to go back so badly,” Baden said as they walked through the mist. They did their best thinking this way. “Every so often, at random times, we’re given glimpses of life down there, but they’re never enough.”
“What have you seen?”
“A few of Sabin’s battles with Hunters before he moved to Budapest. Your fortress. The explosion that brought you all back together. Each of the women who’ve helped you. Lucien is a lucky bastard. His woman is my favorite.”