The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(38)

For a moment, a red haze fell over Lucien's vision. Death had endured a thousand years of confinement in that damned box, an existence that hadn't truly been an existence. There'd been screams, so many screams. Darkness, so much darkness. The demon would not be placed back inside willingly. Death would destroy Lucien first, of that he was certain.

"You look ready for a battle, Flowers. Want to fight me? Huh, huh, please?"

Calm down. He released her arms and tried to back away. Fighting her...pinning her...tonguing her...Calm down! She retained a grip on his wrists, not letting him get very far.

"Why doesn't Cronus simply kill the Greeks?"

"You've spent some time with the gods, right?"

"Long ago."

Unexpectedly she released him. Neither of them moved farther away. No, they stepped closer. "They're obsessed with their amusements, you could say. That, and they live by a code of revenge. Zeus will not suffer as Cronus has suffered if he's dead. And Cronus would have no one to brag about his victories to, no one to taunt, no one to challenge him, without Zeus. Eternity would be boring, no surprises on the horizon."

"Why isn't Cronus here, searching?"

Anya grinned. "Why should he? You're doing all the work for him."

Which meant the god would not want Lucien and the other warriors dead. Which in turn meant Lucien had a little time to figure out what to do about Anya. Suddenly he wanted to grin as Anya was doing. The only thing ruining the spark of happiness inside his chest was the fact that Cronus would snatch whichever artifacts Lucien found. Unless, of course, he figured out a way to hide them.

"How do the Cage and Rod, Eye and Cloak lead to the box?" he asked.

"Now that, I don't know." She shrugged, brushing her shoulder against him.

He bit the inside of his cheek, Death purring wildly. The pleasure of her touch, even one so innocent, rocked him to the core.

"Maybe they're like a key or a map, and point a person in the right direction," she said breathlessly. "So what are we going to do, you and I?"

The touch must have affected her, as well.

"I do not know."

Her features softened, her eyes glowing. "What do you want to do?"

He forced himself to say, "Continue my search of the temple," when he wanted to beg her for a kiss. How he suddenly envied Gideon, who spun a web of lies with such ease. No guilt.

Eyes narrowing, Anya stepped away from him. He felt bereft without her nearby, and heard the demon growl inside his head.

"You were using me for information, huh? Leading me on, looking at me as if you wanted me, but it was only to get me to spill my knowledge."

"Yes," he lied.

Her features fell.

He experienced another wave of shame. He had to stop being cruel to her. She might be as promiscuous as Paris, might be - was probably - using Lucien for her own gain even as she accused him of doing the same. But she was sweet and funny and challenging.

"You rebuff me, fine," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You think you're better than me, whatever. But you know what? You're not. You're sitting back, doing nothing as the gods pull your strings. I, at least, am trying to fight them."

"Anya - "

She wasn't finished. "What are you going to do when your little friend Aeron escapes that dungeon and slaughters the human girl Danika and her family? Still nothing? When he comes to his senses, his life will be forever ruined because of his actions. And you'll have helped him. You'll have taken their souls to heaven even though their lives were cut short."

She was right, he realized, and he hated himself for it. What kind of man was he? All this time, he had been Cronus's puppet. He had not fought the god as a warrior should have, hadn't tried to cut those damned strings in any way.

"Perhaps the women are not innocent," he said, knowing the words were a lie. He simply didn't know what else to say. "Perhaps there is a good reason Danika and her family were chosen for extermination."

"You're right about that. There is a reason they were chosen."

"Tell me." Thinking about the mortals was easier than thinking about himself and his failure.

"Figure it out on your own, *. I think I've told you enough."

He turned away from her. He'd seen the lie in her eyes - she didn't know. But she was clearly hurting, and he wanted to comfort her and had no right to do so. "At least tell me if I'm wasting my time looking for direction here." She owed him nothing, but he couldn't stop himself from asking.

For a long while she didn't speak. He doubted she moved, either, for she made no noise. "You're not wasting your time here."

"Thank you for that. What - "

"Nope. No more questions; I'm not telling you what to look for and I'm not telling you how to find it. Even though that thank you was pretty damn awesome." Sarcasm dripped from those last few words, though mercifully, they had not been edged in steel.

"You're welcome," he said, hoping to tease her into a good mood.

She stepped in front of him, her hips swaying. Expression relaxed once more, she leaned against another column. "Let's get back on track," she said. "How long before you start trying to murder me again?"