The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(48)

Her lighted trail did indeed lead to Z¨1rich. He had been here a time or two collecting souls, but had never been able to linger or explore. The same was true with every country he had ever visited. Collect, escort to heaven or hell, and return home in time for midnight - and Maddox's curse - to arrive. That had been the way of his life for centuries. In the month since the curse had been broken, the warriors had been too busy researching Pandora's box for Lucien to do any traveling on his own. Not that he'd wanted to at that point. Hunters were in need of destruction, his friends in need of peace.

He only prayed he was not compelled to take another soul this day. He wanted this time with Anya, uninterrupted and unspoiled.

Fool. This could be a trap. She could mean to hurt you.

He found her standing on a polished wooden deck, sunlight streaming around her. Cold air swirled between them. Behind her was a breathtaking view of snowcapped mountains.

She was facing him, tendrils of hair wisping over her face as she splayed her arms wide. "What do you think?"

"Exquisite." And she was.

A gradual, almost tentative, definitely vulnerable smile lifted the corners of her lush lips. She stared at him and said, "I think so, too."

Did she mean him? Rather than entice or soothe or excite him as her words were probably supposed to do, they angered him. He wanted her more than he wanted to take his next breath, and she played his affections like a violin. His entire body tensed.

Here we go again, he thought. Letting her pull your emotional strings. Letting her affect you. "Let's get this over with," he said tightly.

Slowly she lost her smile. "Over with? You are such a mood ruiner. Well, I'm not going to let you spoil this for me. Have you eaten lunch?"

"No."

"Food first, then. Shopping later."

"Anya, I think - "

She strolled past him as if he wasn't speaking and sauntered through an opened archway that led into a spacious apartment - why not a mansion? - of vivid colors and luxuriant sensuality. Not knowing what else to do, he followed her.

"This is yours, I presume," he said. "I expected something bigger."

"I keep a home everywhere and this is all the space I need. More...intimate this way." In the center of the living room, there was a low wooden table piled high with food, and she eased onto one of the violet pillows in front of it. "I haven't been to this one in a while because of you-know-who."

"Cronus?"

She nodded and began heaping two plates high with - he sniffed, realizing it was chicken pot pie, freshly baked bread and steaming vegetables. Not the extravagant meal he would have expected a goddess to prefer.

"Sit," she said, not looking up at him. She spooned a bite into her mouth, eyes closing in absolute delight.

He did as commanded, chest aching at the domesticity of the scene and the raw enjoyment she took from such a simple action. He had never had a wife, never been with a single woman for more than a few months - the length of time he'd had with Mariah before she died - so had never experienced anything remotely domestic. Unless you counted Paris's feeble attempts at cooking, which Lucien most definitely did not.

Mariah. Dead. Thinking of her just then did not bring the usual surge of resentment, guilt and anger. Was he finally, at long last, healing? With every day that passed, he thought of her less and less. Which was as sad as it was freeing.

Death had not cared about her, even though Mariah had been Lucien's everything.

Would Death mourn the loss of Anya?

He suspected so. Even now, the demon was purring.

"You never told me the real reason Cronus wants you dead," he said.

Anya sipped a glass of dark, rich wine, peering at him over the rim. "Not true. I told you I have something he wants."

"Your body?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

"According to you, I give that to everyone." There was a trace of bitterness in her tone. "Are you going to eat or just watch me?"

Stomach suddenly grumbling, he bit into the pie. Succulent, perfectly prepared. "Did you make this?" He could not picture her slaving in a kitchen.

"Gods, no. I stole it."

The disgust on her pixie face was comical, and he found himself grinning. "Stole?"

"Yes." She stared at his lips, her blue eyes heating. "I like it when you smile."

He swallowed. "Cronus," he prompted, trying to halt whatever thoughts were rolling inside her head. "Why doesn't he seek you out and kill you himself? You are out in the open now. I'm sure he has been able to lock in your location."

"He's an inter-heavenly man of mystery. No one knows why he does the things he does."

"And you have no guess?"

"Well," she shrugged, "he's an idiot. There, that's my guess."

Lucien tensed, waiting for lightning to strike and thunder to boom. Several minutes ticked by before he was able to relax. "This something he wants. Tell me what it is. Please. And for gods' sake, Anya, give me a straight answer for once." If he knew, he could steal it from her, give it to Cronus and end this nightmare.

"For once?" She shook her fork at him. "I give you straight answers all the time."

"Again, then," he said on a sigh.

She stared at him for a long while, not speaking, not moving. Finally she said, "You want the truth, I'll tell you. But the information will cost you. We'll trade. A question for a question."