The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(29)

"You've been neglecting me, and I don't like it."

"You should be grateful for my neglect."

"Don't flatter yourself." She didn't leave in a huff as he'd half expected. Instead, she shifted closer to him. "Can I help you fight the Hunters? Please, please, please, can I?"

"No. Be silent." If the warriors heard him from their positions, they gave no indication. He could just make them out in the bushes, only the tips of their heads visible as they waited for his signal.

"But I'm an expert fighter."

"I know," he replied drily. His chest still ached where she'd stabbed him. Should have been illegal for a woman who looked like her to be so sexily bloodthirsty. And he should not have found that bloodthirstiness so attractive. "Did you tell these Hunters about the temple?"

"Ugh. Why would I help the Hunters?"

"So that they would kill me, and you would no longer have to worry about being killed by me."

"I don't worry about that now," she said matter-of-factly.

Gods save him. Had women always been this way? "What are you doing here, Anya? I left you because I needed space. Time. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yes." She shifted in the grass, angling even closer to him. "I just...I can't get you out of my mind. I missed you."

Hearing that was almost painful. A lie? "Anya."

"No, no. Don't say anything. You'll only make me mad and then bad things will happen. Oh, my gods," she added with a quiet laugh. "I sounded just like you. Look, let me help. I won't get in the way. Swear. Scouts honor. Witches honor. Or whatever kind of promise you want."

A gentle, salt-kissed breeze swept past them, and a lock of her hair brushed his cheek. He experienced an instant and unwanted hard-on as he swatted the silky strands away. "I told you to be silent. I need to study the land." Not that he could concentrate on anything but Anya as her hair continued to stroke him. "And for gods' sake, do something with your hair."

"Cut it?"

"Shave it." Sadly, he doubted even that would lessen her physical appeal. Concentrate! he reminded himself. The Hunters had been inside the tunnels for over an hour now. They'd had time to settle, to relax. There was no movement around the entrances, no hint of a watchman.

"Really?" Anya asked with surprise. "You want me to shave it like that sexy warlord Vin Diesel?"

Who was Vin Diesel? And why did Lucien suddenly want to slay him? Lucien popped his jaw. "Yes."

"If I do, will you let me help tonight?"

There was so much eagerness in her voice that he suspected she truly would do it, would shave her head completely bald. Obviously, her hair meant nothing to her. The complete lack of vanity surprised him.

Why did that endear her to him even more?

"No," he finally told her.

"You're such a pain," she grumbled. "Well, guess what? I've already flashed inside those tunnels, and the Hunters have obviously been here a while. They even have prisoners."

Every muscle in his body stiffened. "First, you went inside without my permission, endangering yourself and my purpose?"

"Listen, sweetness." Anger now laced her voice. "Despite what you seem to think, I am a powerful being, and I choose whether or not to endanger myself. Besides, you should be happy I went inside. If I'd gotten caught, they could have saved you the trouble of taking my head."

"Second," Lucien continued as if she hadn't spoken. He could barely get the words out, his throat was so constricted. "They have prisoners?"

"Mmm-hmm. Two of 'em."

Finally, he looked at her - and immediately regretted it. She wore a white gossamer gown with gold threaded throughout, and was even lovelier than he remembered. With the golden glow of moonlight crowning her and emerald plants framing her, she was an ancient queen straight out of a storybook.

The top layers of her pale hair were piled on her head, the rest tumbling down and begging for his touch. Hard fists of desire beat through him. "Who are they?" he forced himself to ask.

"Not a word about my appearance?"

"No." Looking at you is like finally entering those gates to heaven. His chest tightened, nearly squeezing his heart to an agonizing stop.

"Seriously, why do I bother?" she grumped. "I could weigh nine hundred pounds, smell like a sewer and wear garbage bags and I'd get the same response from you."

"The prisoners," he prompted grimly.

She shrugged one delicate shoulder and the wispy material of her robe fell to her elbow, revealing inch after inch of creamy skin. Was that...gods in heaven, it was. He could see the plump underside of her breast. He wanted to taste it so badly his teeth actually hurt.

"What about them?" she asked. "They're humans."

He was tempted to offer his own soul to Cronus if the god would spare her and allow Lucien to lick her. A single flick of his tongue. That's all he needed. Please. "And?"

Her full lips curled into a slow smile. "They are people who might possess the very knowledge you seek. Don't ask me anything else, though, because I'm not telling. You didn't even comment about my dress and I went to a lot of trouble to steal it."

"Stealing is wrong. But it is...pretty." An understatement. A lie. It was exquisite on her. Would look even more exquisite on his bedroom floor. Foolish thought. "Do they know about Pandora's box?"