how long they’d be gone.
“The Unspoken Ones claimed to have the Paring Rod,” he croaked. Someone had to get the conversation/raging argument started.
“Clearly, they lied.” Sabin propped his elbows on his knees, head falling into his upraised hands.
Yeah. Clearly. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “This is bad. Really bad.”
He should have known, should have suspected at the very least. Instead, a few weeks ago Strider had visited their temple. He hadn’t minded giving the monstrous beings the Cloak because he’d thought they had another artifact already. Why not one more? He’d thought they would guard both relics until he could return and bargain, buying both.
He’d thought wrong.
What a cluster! If the Unspoken Ones had possessed the Rod, they wouldn’t have given it to Juliette. Not without payment, and that payment would not have come in the form of cash or jewels. They wanted only Cronus’s head.
Since the god king still lived, no exchange had been made. Which meant the Unspoken Ones were completely untrustworthy, and there was no telling what they would do with the Cloak if Strider failed to deliver that head.
There would be no squabbling on his part. Even though they now had two open objectives. The Cloak, and Kaia.
First, he had to steal the Paring Rod. Sabin hadn’t lied. If it ended up in the wrong hands—and by “wrong,” he meant any hands but his own—Pandora’s box could be found, and he and his friends destroyed. Their demons would be ripped from their bodies and sucked back inside.
Great in theory, but man and beast were connected in a hard-core, can’t-live-without-you kind of way. Apart, the men would instantly kick the bucket and the demons would go bat-shit crazy.
Urgency rushed through him. Strider stopped in the center of the room and faced Kaia. “We have to steal it.”
Her mouth fell open, red and lush and oh-so-tempting. “Uh, what now?”
“Forget the games and help me steal the Rod.” He gritted his teeth like a good little soldier and added, “Please.” Sometimes a guy needed a wingman, and now was one of those times. He had no idea how Harpy minds worked or where that Juliette person was likely to hide her treasure.
Kaia was his inside source. His only way in.
Her pupils dilated—with anger. Great. Exactly what he didn’t need. The little lady in a temper, unafraid to use it. Then she ran her tongue over her teeth, and a bolt of lust shot straight through him, melting the ice and leaving a smoldering inferno behind, making him long to stoke that temper higher.
At a time like this? Really?
He could have kicked his own horny ass.
“Not just no, but hell, no,” she said, chin lifted stubbornly.
Dread replaced his urgency. He knew that look. He’d seen it before, directed at the roomful of Harpies. Their gazes had flayed her alive, for some reason, but she hadn’t backed down.
“And you aren’t stealing it, either,” she added.
As if. “Are you trying to punish me, Red?” He’d made the fatal mistake of being honest with her, of telling her he was here to help her but not to romance her. He’d known better, too. Never show a woman your cards. “Because if that’s the case—”
“Oh, my gods. Are you
“I know that. Believe me, I ego check all the time. So tell me, what’s the problem? I seem to recall a certain redheaded Harpy once saying she’d do
“There is no price,” she snapped. “Not for this.”
“Are you afraid?” A low blow, yeah, but he was desperate.
She hopped off the TV, teeth bared and sharpening into something far more dangerous than one of those daggers, black bleeding into her eyes and overshadowing all hint of color.
“You’re gonna get it now,” Bianka sang, and Lysander pressed his hand over her mouth, preventing her from saying anything else.
“Idiot,” Sabin muttered. “I’m not even gonna assist you. You deserve what’s about to happen.”
“I’m afraid of nothing.” Two voices layered Kaia’s words, and both were raspy, menacing…slashing. In and out she breathed, each inhalation labored, each exhalation ragged. “You’re very lucky my Harpy is adamantly opposed to harming you, or you’d be in pieces right now. And if you try to steal the Rod on your own,
He wanted to shake her. Wanted to kiss her—but only to shut her the hell up, of course. Damn it, she skirted the edge of challenge even then. Defeat prowled from one side of his skull to the other, practically foaming at the mouth for a go at her. Only fear of losing kept the demon from accepting.
“Got it?” Kaia demanded when he offered no response.
Disappointment rocked him. She
Case in point: he was in Wisconsin when he should have been in any of a thousand other places.
He spun around and glared at Bianka. He didn’t mind thieving on his own. Usually. However, Harpies were a different breed of animal than anyone or thing he’d dealt with before. They could move faster than the eye could track. They could rip through a man’s trachea with only their teeth. Hell, they could rip through an entire army in seconds.
There was no line they wouldn’t cross, no deed too vile. If he went for the Rod and they caught him, they would kill him. But without the Rod, he was dead, anyway. So, no contest. He was going for it.
“What about you?” he threw at Bianka.
“Tone, warrior,” Lysander said, his voice so mild Strider almost couldn’t detect the power behind it. Almost.
Bianka shoved Lysander’s hand away from her mouth. “Sorry, big boy, but I can’t help you.”
“Why?”
She shrugged, all innocence. “If you want me to list reasons, I’ll list reasons. I can’t guarantee they’ll be truthful, though.”
He faced Gwen. “And you?”
“S-sorry?” she said, sounding confused. She glanced at Kaia, who shook her head. He knew because he was watching her reflection in the picture over the nightstand between the beds. “I can’t,” she finished more firmly.
Okay, something was going on here. Kaia wasn’t afraid. No matter what he’d said, he knew that. Girl was too