The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(22)

She pasted a cocky grin on her face. "Who are you trying to fool? I'm totally winning."

He slammed a fist into the tree, knocking several pieces of red fruit to the ground. "There must be another way. Surely there is a way around your death."

His vehemence made her tingle; his sudden willingness to try to save her made her ache. She sighed. The man could shove her from one end of the emotional gauntlet to the other in seconds. "If you're thinking of petitioning Cronus, don't. He won't change his mind, and he'll punish you for attempting it."

Lucien splayed his arms wide, the very picture of exasperated male. "Why can't he kill you himself?"

"You'd have to ask him." She shrugged as if she didn't know the answer.

"Anya," Lucien said, a warning. "Tell me."

"No."

"Anya!"

"No!" She could have flashed to her knives, but didn't. She could have flashed to him, but didn't do that, either. Instead she waited, curious as to what the warrior would do or say next.

He expelled a sigh, the perfect mimic of her own, as his arms fell back to his sides. "What are we going to do about this, then?"

"Make out?" she suggested cheekily. She'd meant the words as a taunt, a jest, hating that she would have gone to him in a heartbeat if he'd given her any encouragement. I'm pathetic.

He blanched as if she'd struck him.

Irritated, she ran her tongue over her teeth. Was the thought of kissing her again that abhorrent? "Why do you hate me?" she found herself asking before she could stop the words. Damn it. She sounded ashamed, as if the woman she was didn't deserve to be loved. Sorry, Mom. Dysnomia had taught her better.

"I do not hate you," Lucien admitted softly.

"Oh, really? You look ready to vomit at the thought of touching me."

A wry smile greeted her words, there one moment, gone the next. Anya nearly fell to the ground in awe. Finally, a true smile from him. She should have known it would be sensually potent, decadent. Addicting. Already she craved another. His grin was as radiant as the sun.

"And yet I have an erection," he said in a tone as wry as his expression.

Okay. Who was this man? First a smile, and now he was teasing her. Her blood heated and her nipples hardened (again). "A man doesn't have to like a woman to want her." He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "Just hush it, okay. I don't want to hear your response." He would ruin the happy buzz she had going, she just knew it. "Stand there and look pretty while I think."

"You're purposely trying to provoke me, are you not?"

Yes, she was. A foolish move on her part, really. He'd been ordered to render her death blow. Every time she incited him, she probably made the thought of it a little easier for him to bear. But she couldn't help herself. That smile...

"Have you no answer for me?"

"Not one I'm willing to share." Why did he have to look so sexy standing there? The sun was acting like his lover, caressing him, weaving an angelic halo around his dark head. Yes, angelic. He was a fallen angel just then, causing her pulse points to throb and her stomach to quiver.

Why couldn't they have been simply a man and a woman?

Why couldn't he have wanted her the way she wanted him?

Why wouldn't her obsession with him wane, now that he was bound to snuff her out for eternity?

"You are making this difficult."

"You won't break the rules for me?" she asked, batting her lashes. "You won't do me this one teeny-weeny favor? You owe me."

"No. I can't."

He hadn't even hesitated in the delivery of his answer and that pissed her off. The least he could have done was take a few minutes to think about it. Bastard. She scowled. "I'm giving you one more chance to agree. We'd be even, the chalkboard clean."

"I am sorry. I must again decline."

Fine. That meant there was only one way to end the madness.

Finally she did flash to her knives. She did flash to him. His eyes widened in surprise as she materialized in front of him. With the hilt facing him, she chop-blocked him in the throat, spun while he struggled to breathe and slammed the other hilt into his temple to render him unconscious.

Contact.

Only, he didn't sink into unconsciousness. He fell to his knees with a groan. Didn't matter. Either way, the outcome was the same. Disappointed that it had come to this, she twirled the daggers in her palms so that the sharp tips pointed directly at him.

Her hands trembled as she stared at the top of his head. Everything inside of her was screaming not to do this, but she swung the blades into a crisscross, anyway. There were only a few ways to kill an immortal permanently and decapitation was one of them. Do it...no other way... She'd already placed the blades at his neck, needing only to slam her wrists together. Do it before he flashes!

Oh, gods, oh, gods. She did it. Moved to cut him. Instead of flesh, however, her weapons encountered only air.

He'd flashed.

Frustration and elation battled for supremacy. Before she had time to act on either, strong, viselike fingers jammed into her shoulders, spinning her around. Searing lips slammed over her mouth, prying it open and stealing her breath.

Lucien's tongue thrust against hers in a white-hot kiss that would haunt her waking and sleeping for thousands of years to come. Dead or alive. It was bliss and it was agony. It was heaven and it was hell. Having his flavor drown her so perfectly, his strength and heat at the ready, craving more.