The Darkest Surrender

the forefront of his mind.

WILLIAM PACED THE CONFINES of his prison cell. After the blonde bitch had dropped her bombshell about Kane, he had erupted, shouting and fighting for freedom. She’d soon realized there would be no calming him down and had had his gurney wheeled here.

About an hour ago, he’d regained enough of his strength to break out of the metal restraints. Not so with the cage. Four walls, all bars, and he couldn’t bend or manipulate a single one.

The prison had been built for immortals.

He had to get out of here. Had to get to Kane. Had to stop the warrior from reaching hell. The horsemen. The danger…

“So. You’ve calmed down.”

The blonde. Fury rising inside him, William turned on his heel, following the sound of her voice. And there she was. Ponytail, wire rims, delicate features, lab coat.

“Are you ready to chat now?” she asked.

Don’t erupt again. Much as he currently wanted to rip her throat out, he needed her.

He was at a disadvantage, though. Patches of his skin were still charred, his pants—the only article of clothing currently remaining on his body—were bloodstained and ripped, and his hair was sticking out in spikes.

He was still a babe, though. Surely.

He pasted a seductive smile on his face. “Absolutely I’m ready. What’s your name, darling?”

She arched a brow two shades darker than her hair. “I thought you didn’t care about my name.”

Great. She was one of those. Stubborn and determined not to let a man soften her. Otherwise she would have melted already. And yes, he usually worked that quickly. “That was the pain talking, I promise.”

“Okay. I’ll pretend that I believe you. My name is Skye.”

“I’ll call you Dr. Love Button.”

“And I’ll have you castrated.” There was no heat in her tone.

“Kinky. So you work for Galen, do you?” Gods, William hated the bastard. Not for the sake of the Lords, though that didn’t help the keeper of Hope’s cause, but because William simply couldn’t stand people who were deceitful about their evil. Reminded him too much of his brother. And they didn’t get more deceitful than Galen, who masqueraded as an angel so he could manipulate a bunch of feeble-minded humans into doing his dark bidding.

Skye, if that was her real name, laughed. “Kinda sorta, though mostly no.”

Of all the nonanswers she could have given, that topped the list. “Mind explaining that a little better, pet?”

“Not really, but I’ll give it a shot.” She shook her head and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “I’m not a Hunter. Or a doctor, for that matter. I never finished med school.”

“Then why did you bomb me, nearly kill me, help heal me and what? Lock me away as if you despise me. Oh, yeah. And I can’t forget that you also carted my demon-possessed friend into hell.” Something humans wouldn’t have known how to do—or how to navigate through if by some miracle they did manage to reach it. Which meant a god—or a goddess—had to be involved. And the only divine pain in the ass currently helping mortals was Rhea, the heavenly queen. “Also, how do you know about Galen and Hunters if you’re not part of their brainwashed masses?”

A rosy flush colored her cheeks. “First, I didn’t bomb you. Hunters did, yes. And, okay, so my husband is a Hunter, and that’s why I’m so knowledgeable, but I’m working with him on that, trying to get him out. As for the other, I only locked you away because you were a danger to yourself and everyone around you.”

He placed a hand over his heart, as if she’d mortally wounded him. “As if I’d ever hurt you.”

“Whatever.”

What would it take to charm her? “Let’s backtrack just a bit. Hunters decided to take me out, your husband among them, and you thought you’d try to save little ole me, even though you don’t yet have your medical degree and even though saving me might piss off your man? I’m touched, truly.”

She fiddled with something plastic in her pocket. “They brought you here, asked me to help.”

“And even though you want your man out of their ranks, you decided to aid them yourself.” He edged toward her, so minutely she wouldn’t realize he was close enough to reach through the bars until it was too late.

“I decided to aid you.”

Another inch. “But you’re not working for them.”

“No.”

“Shall I tell you all my secrets, then?” Another inch.

Her eyes narrowed, obscuring her pretty irises. “Keep your secrets. I’m not interested.” She withdrew a sucker from her pocket, the wrapper gone, and stuffed the thing in her mouth.

Well, he was definitely interested in hers. “If you don’t work for Hunters, who do you work for? How did you know how to save me? And why don’t you set me free now? As you can see, I’m not a danger to anyone.”

Out popped the candy. “First, I’m currently unemployed. And as for my saving know-how, trial and error. Some races can regenerate limbs, some can’t. Some have wings, most don’t. Some respond to human medicine positively, some negatively. As for the Hunters and your release, I’m sad to say they get you back the moment I decide you’re well enough.”

Yet another inch. Almost there… “But you still claim not to work for them.”

She shrugged. “My husband made the agreement with them. He decides.”

“And you won’t defy him? Or change his mind?” he asked, using his huskiest tone.

“No.” Softly spoken, yet firm, unbending. “I can’t. I wish, but I can’t.”

Finally William reached her. He grinned. “Too bad.” His arm shot through the bars, his fingers wrapping around her fragile neck.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE NEXT MORNING, STRIDER’S ears were bleeding and his mind was echoing the lyrics from Naughty By Nature’s “O.P.P.” Didn’t help that Kaia and Bianka were still singing. Badly. So damn badly. Not that he’d ever admit that last part aloud. Kaia looked so happy squawking her heart out and he didn’t want to taint an activity that gave her enjoyment. But seriously. He was willing to bet a cat being skinned had better pitch. And yeah, he’d put good money on that bet, not to mention his body and his demon.

Once the girls had started, they hadn’t stopped. Tragically, though hours had passed, neither of them had developed laryngitis.

Besides the humans, who had all taken off at closing, the lucky bastards, no one had dared leave the bar. Not the Lords, the Skyhawks, the angels, nor the Eagleshields.

To the Harpies, this was another type of contest, plain and simple. Who could outlast the other? For once, Strider was willing to lose. He would have left, writhed in (grateful) pain for a few days, but damn it all to hell, he had to protect his little Harpy.

A few times, one of the Eagleshields attempted to head up onstage, take over and put everyone out of their misery. Strider jumped up, ready for action, but Lysander and Zacharel, who still couldn’t be seen by anyone but Strider and Sabin, immediately formed an impenetrable wall of muscle no one was able to pass.

And the Harpies had tried, hitting, kicking and clawing, until finally giving up in frustration. Of course, Kaia and Bianka were blamed, and he’d heard murmurs of wonderment. What type of strange powers did the twins wield?

Good. Let them wonder.

Knowing the angels had Kaia’s back allowed Strider to switch his focus to Juliette and her boy toy Lazarus, who kept their focus centered on Kaia. He didn’t like that. Didn’t like that at all. And he