The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(70)

"The All-Key?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes." She dropped her arm. "You going to tell me what made you so angry?"

"I saw you talking with Cronus."

"What! You saw? How?"

"I do not know how, just that I saw you, in my mind. What did he say?"

She blinked at him. "He wanted the key."

That damned key! "Tell me why it is a light that comes from inside you." He'd expected metal.

"No. What I will tell you is that if you kill me, the key will drain your powers. There. Now you know. That's why Cronus wants you to do his dirty work. And before you say anything, I never planned to tell you because one, I had no intention of dying and two, you would have thought I was lying to keep you away. But now you know. You can't say I didn't warn you."

He wasn't going to kill her, so the warning mattered little. "How is Cronus going to take the key from you if it is inside you?"

"You already know that part. You kill me, you weaken, he swoops in and takes it from my poor dead body."

"So you have to die for someone else to possess it?"

"No. I could willingly give it."

"Then give it to him, woman!"

"I give it to him, I weaken. Permanently. Worse, I won't be able to flash. Get it now?"

Oh, yes. Suddenly he did get it, and he almost vomited. He couldn't steal the key from her without killing her and she couldn't give it to Cronus without deteriorating, therefore Lucien had nothing to trade the god in exchange for Anya's life. What in hell was he going to do?

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Anya glanced around the room. "While throwing your tantrum, did you destroy our supplies for the Arctic?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe I once thought you were too controlled. Seriously, learn some self-discipline, for gods' sake. You should be embarrassed."

"I am."

"Good."

Think about the key later, when you are alone and not consumed by the scents of strawberries and destruction. "Before you left, you said you wanted to discuss something with me. What?"

"I forgot."

He doubted she had - Anya forgot nothing - but he allowed the lie without comment. "Did you return to spend a few more hours in bed?"

Her cheeks colored prettily. "I'm here to get my stuff because I'm ready to start looking for those artifacts. I'm bored, after all, and it sounds deliciously dangerous, trekking through snow in search of an ancient relic."

There was something in her eyes - too bright a gleam, maybe. A forced casualness, perhaps. Again, she was not speaking true. "You left me for Strider to find naked and chained to a bed," he said to lighten her mood. Perhaps then she would tell him the truth. "Have I thanked you for that?"

"No, you haven't." She grinned slowly, her amusement genuine this time. "Did he likie?"

"He must have. He took a picture." Mortification heated Lucien from the collarbone up as he remembered.

Anya laughed outright, and the sound of that laughter was magical. His skin tingled, and he felt as if he'd just conquered the entire world.

"What did you wish to discuss?" he asked gently. "Tell me true."

Her smile faded. "I wanted to tell you...I wanted to say...I'm not sure I like your attitude."

"I am not sure I know what you mean."

"Just, I don't know. Don't be so ooey-gooey nice to me. It's nauseating."

"Nauseating?"

"You an echo now? Yeah. Nauseating. Jeez."

He crossed his arms over his chest and peered down at her, confused. "Why are you acting like this? After the way you begged me to keep licking you?"

Her breath hitched, and she backed away from him. Just a step, but he didn't like it. "I realized that was a mistake, that's all," she said.

What was going on here? "Do you no longer trust me?"

"No."

"Why? I could have entered you then, and we both know it. But I didn't. And I think we both know you were close to asking me for more."

Her eyes glowered up at him. "I was toying with you. Faking it."

He, too, glowered. "I'll believe a lot of things about you, sweetcakes, but that isn't one of them. Not anymore."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard." She brushed a piece of lint off her shoulder.

"Do not make me prove my words."

"Fuck you." Another brush of her shoulder. Her hand was shaking, he noticed.

"You would like that, would you not? If I f*cked you?"

Giving up her casual facade, she slapped him, palm dragging against his cheek. "One, you shouldn't talk like that. And two, don't make me state the obvious. I...I...felt sorry for you, obviously." The last was croaked. Tears even sprang into her eyes.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He could feel the urge to hurt building inside of him again. Hot, hungry, begging for a chance to render more damage. To destroy. He'd have liked to tell himself that Anya was lying about this - he had felt her pleasure, her joy in his touch - but old insecurities died hard.

She was beautiful and could have her pick of equally beautiful men. Perhaps she'd wanted him earlier for the novelty of lying with an ugly man, didn't want him now that she'd done so, and thought this was the best way to cut him loose.