He had never seen a more breathtaking sight, and all thoughts of the key vanished.
"You do not have to," he said, but he wanted her to do it. Desperately. He had neglected his body for so long, and the pleasure he found with her was so intense. "You took care of me earlier."
"That was earlier, and you're ready for round two. Besides, I like taking care of you." Her lips curled in a slow, wicked smile. "I can't seem to get enough of you."
"I cannot get enough of you, either." He caressed a lock of hair from her cheek. "Foolish me, for trying to push you away."
"Yes. Foolish. But don't worry. I'll punish you for that. I'll give you a tongue lashing you'll never forget." She rained little kisses down his cheek and neck, taking special care with his scars, licking and nibbling them.
What an amazing creature, he marveled. His cock was harder than ever before, pulsing with need. Rather than sate him, one taste had slain him. He was addicted to Anya. Her heat. Her softness. One taste made him want another and another and another.
He might never get enough of her.
In the past, it had been easier to go without sex than to risk any softer emotion, wondering if he would later have to watch his lover die. Right now, he couldn't go without.
Anya fascinated him, as well as Death. Her wit and tenacity gave her the courage to face him when anyone else would have run screaming. Not just because of his appearance, not just because he was possessed by a demon, not even just because he'd intended to kill her, but because of the insults he'd hurled.
Insults she had not deserved.
"I am sorry," he began, hands tangling in her hair. As he did so, he felt the first tug of Death. Heard a roar. Lucien blinked. The demon was being drawn to souls who needed him and was furious at the thought of leaving the bed. "I said it before, but I do not think I can say it enough."
"Why are you sorry?" The hot tip of Anya's tongue circled his navel.
Lucien tried to resist, tried to tune the demon out. "I was rude to you when you deserved only kindness." His testicles drew up and his cock twitched, seeking her. He bent his knees and planted his heels in the mattress. Her fingers curled around the base of his shaft, and he moaned. Sweet fire. He
Felt another tug from Death, this one stronger, more intense. He nearly roared, and the sound would have blended with the demon's frenzied snarls. We'll move quickly. It was the first time he'd ever had to prompt the demon into action.
Stay.
She will be here when we return.
Hurry!
"I must go. Do not leave." He sat up and pressed a quick kiss to Anya's lips. "Please do not leave."
With that, he allowed his body to become mist and sink into the spirit world. Death seemed to be pacing the corridors of his mind, but flashed him to a small room. Blood coated the walls. Blood and other things he did not want to contemplate.
Two bodies lay on the floor, a man and a woman. The man, Lucien instantly knew thanks to his demon, had wrongly suspected the woman of cheating on him, had shot her and then turned the gun on himself.
Bastard, he thought, then stilled. Hadn't he basically accused Anya of the same? Scowling, Lucien pounded a ghostly hand into the man's body first and jerked the spirit out, not even trying to be gentle.
The spirit struggled against Lucien's hold. Screamed when he saw Lucien's eyes. Faster than he had ever moved before, Lucien flashed to hell and practically threw the spirit inside. He went back to the room and gathered the woman more gently.
She saw him and gasped. "Naked," she said, staring at him. "Am I inheaven?"
Should have dressed first. "Not yet." Spirits often tried to talk to him, and he rarely replied. This time, his response was automatic. "Soon. The angels are much prettier than I." He escorted her skyward just as quickly, ready to return to his own piece of heaven.
He wasn't sure how long he had taken, but he flashed back to the home in Greece and materialized. Finally, Death quieted. Anya was on her back, one hand massaging her breasts, one hand between her legs, two fingers pumping in and out.
She was moaning, pink and dewy.
Once again, Lucien was on fire, burning, burning, as he crawled on top of her, jealous that he was not the one inside her. At the first touch, he and the demon sighed in unison. This was where they belonged.
Anya's eyes popped open. She grinned sensuously. "I couldn't wait."
Lucien rolled them over, pinning himself underneath her. "I am glad. I liked the sight of you."
"Mmm, you're so strong," she praised. "So determined. Why can't I get enough of you?"
Her eyes met his for a split second, and he felt like the most beautiful man ever to walk the earth. There was so much passion and admiration in that crystalline gaze of hers.
"You amaze me," he told her, caressing her cheek. Tenderness flooded him. He'd eschewed gentler emotions for so long he didn't yet know how to handle them. But he was willing to try. For Anya.
"Just wait" Sensuously she moved down his body. Her head bent and her lush lips opened over the rounded head of his shaft one more time. Down she pumped, again taking him all the way to the back of her throat.
This time, there was no guilt to cloud his passion. He hadn't shamed her into this; she truly desired him. And the knowledge made him dizzy, made him sizzle. He was scorched and blistered to his soul as he arched his back, seeking more of that moist heat.
"So hot," she praised. Her teeth scraped the head gently, heating him even more.
"Anya." He clawed at the covers.
One of her hands dabbled at his testicles, and the other stretched up his chest to pluck at his nipple. All the while she continued to drive her mouth up and down. Soon he was writhing, mindless of anything but the pleasure.
It was nearly more than he could bear.
Surely he, Death, would die when he came this time. Surely he
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the slam of a door, the low baritone of a voice exclaiming at the destruction found in the living room.
Anya's heavenly mouth stopped moving. He nearly roared, nearly cursed, nearly hacked the entire bed to pieces. Where is your calm? He was panting, sweating. Aching. The demon was snapping ferociously again.
"Lucien," Anya said. She was breathless.
He struggled to control his body, his mind, drawing in shallow rasps of air as best he could. Blood screamed in his ears. Desire continued to beat hard fists through him. He needed to come. He needed to make Anya his woman, over and over again.
"Lucien," she repeated as the voice became louder.
"What the hell happened?" he heard Strider growl. Footsteps pounded.
"Defeat," he snarled. "Do not enter my bedroom. I need a moment."
"We need a moment," Anya called.
The footsteps ceased. "One minute, and I'm coming in."
Lucien tried to sit up just as cold steel clamped around his wrist. Brow puckered, he looked to the side. Frowned. Anya had locked him to the bed.
"Anya," he said. "A game?"
"No."
A pause. A muscle ticked below his eye. "Chains cannot hold me."
"These can." She hopped off the bed and rushed to the closet, jerking a shirt and pair of pants from the hangers. "Sorry, sugar, but we aren't done talking and I can't let you leave until we are."
He tugged at the chain. It rattled, but didn't break. Dread coursed through him. He tried to flash, but failed. The reason she'd gone to his room in Buda became clear. She'd gathered the chains. "Let me go. Now."
She looked at him, a flitter of sadness in her eyes. "I don't have the key."
"It is in my pants. Those," he said, motioning to the closet floor with his free hand. In his preoccupation with Anya, he'd forgotten to leave the key in Buda with the chains, so had been carrying it around.
She picked them up. "These?"
"Yes."
She dug the small metal key out and held it in her flat palm. Tiny dark clouds formed around it, a contained gust of wind seeming to swirl just above it. In a blink, the clouds disappeared and the wind died. The key was gone. She brushed her empty hands together in triumph over a job well done.
"Anya!" he shouted. "What did you do? Where is the key?"
"Lucien?" Strider called, concerned.
"Not yet," he called back.
"Don't worry," Anya said. "You aren't helpless. That little key Cronie Wonie wants, well, it's the All-Key and it can unlock anything. Even those." She pointed to the chains.
"Prove it. Unlock me. Now!"
"Sorry, sweetcakes, but you need a little Lucien-time, and I'm nice enough to give it to you."
"Anya!" He was naked and undeniably aroused. If only a raging hard-on would go away because of a little anger. He wished, but no. "We had a truce."
"Which is why you're chained and not dead." Fully dressed now, she approached the bed. His clothing bagged on her, but she had never been more beautiful.
He lunged for her, hoping to grab on to her wrist, but she danced out of his reach with a laugh. "You deserve this, and you know it. Take the punishment like a good boy."
"Anya," he said again, trying to sound composed. He didn't. If his voice had been a sword, she would have been hacked to pieces.
Staying out of striking distance, she pinched the edge of the comforter and tossed it over his erection. "There. Your modesty can be preserved."
Even then, he wanted her. Ribbons of hair streamed around her and she was staring at the blanket with longing, as if she wanted to be the one draped over him.
"Anya"
"Get rid of Defeat, and I'll come back." With that, she disappeared.
His head fell against the pillow. "Damn this!" He slammed his unfettered hand into the headboard behind him.
Strider burst into the room, two blades upraised. "Ready or not," he said, "here I come." He glanced at the damaged chamber and then the chains. "What the hell happened? House is a mess, too."
"Put those away," Lucien said, motioning to the weapons with a tilt of his chin. "Anya and I had a little fight."
All hint of concern left Strider's harsh features. "And then you decided to play a game of bondage? I dig." He laughed. "I didn't think you were into that kind of thing."
"Shut up and get out of here. She won't come back until you do."
"Hell, no. I'm not leaving." Strider plopped onto the side of the bed. "One, I want to witness the fireworks. Two, I'm not leaving you helpless. We may not have been in touch these past few centuries, but that doesn't mean I don't have your back now. Just don't get any ideas. I don't swing that way."
Lucien kicked him in the chest, sending him to the ground. "Strider." He covered his face with his free hand. "Gods, this is humiliating." Had Reyes or Paris been the ones to find him, it would not have been so bad.
"You want popcorn or something?" Strider asked, darting to his feet with a grin.
"I want you to leave."
"Uh, no."
"I'm not helpless. And she won't hurt me. She could have already, but she didn't."
A pause. A sigh. "Fine." Strider strode from the room.
Lucien thought the warrior meant to leave the home completely, but Strider returned a few moments later holding a small black cell phone.
"This little baby has camera and e-mail capabilities." Wiggling his eyebrows, he snapped a few photos of Lucien on the bed, making sure to get the chains.
"Stop," Lucien growled.
"Uh, again, no. Now make love to the camera for me. Good, good. The angry sex look is perfect. Man, this is one for the scrapbook."
Lucien glared at him. "Some men fear my anger."
"Hate to break it to you, Death, but I don't think they will when they see you attached to a headboard, a blanket tented over your lap."
Heat infused Lucien's cheeks. "I will pay you back for this. You know that, don't you?"
Strider suddenly sobered. "Don't challenge me. You know I am Defeat's keeper, and I'll do anythingeven kill my own mother if I had oneto win a challenge. I can't stop until I do."
Lucien threw a pillow at him. "Then put the camera away and leave."
Smiling again, Strider finally did as ordered. Well, one order at least. He stuffed the camera in his pocket. "So, hey. Have you seen Paris?"
"No. Why?"
"He took off earlier to do some shopping, and I haven't seen or heard from him since."
"He's probably with a woman. Or two. I wouldn't worry about him. Knowing him, he'll want to be at top strength before he joins the search, which means he might be a few days behind us. He has needed even more sex than usual lately."
"Apparently he's not the only one." Strider leered at him. "Gideon will be ticked if Paris left without him. Guess I'll have to let the boys work it out. I've got a plane to South Africa to catch. I'm eager to start looking for little Miss Hydra and whatever treasure she's hiding."
"Did you call Sabin?"
"Oh, yeah. He's excited as hell. Says they haven't had any luck at the Temple of the Unspoken Ones, even with several blood sacrifices, but he senses that something is there and doesn't want to leave."
"Good." Hopefully someone would find something sooner rather than later. "I have not had a chance to flash to him." His mind had been too consumed with Anya.
Strider's phone gave a loud beep. The warrior withdrew it and flipped it open, grinning. "Speaking of Sabin, I already e-mailed your picture to him and he just replied. He thinks you look real good like that. Says you should pose more often."
Lucien fell back, banging his head against the board. The chains clinked. "Get out of here. Anya and I have something to settle."
"Man, you are one lucky son of a bitch. I'd like to settle something with that delicious cupcake."
Lucien's eyes narrowed, rage sparking to life. "Do not talk about her like that."
Strider blinked in wonder, but left it alone. "I'll stay close until I know you're free. See you around, Death. Have fun." He strode out of the room, then out of the house, the door closing behind him with a snap.
"I am alone now," Lucien called.
No response.
"Anya."
Nothing.
He waited several more minutes, then called her name again. Still she did not respond. Damn this! Was she playing with him? Punishing him?
Or was something wrong with her?
A horrifying image suddenly popped in his head, so vivid he broke out in a sweat. Anya standing in the middle of her apartment in Switzerland, Cronus looming over her. They were locked in a heated debate.
Lucien's demon snarled, and Lucien began to suspect the image was indeed real. It was simply too detailed, down to the bead of sweat on her temple. What were the two saying? He couldn't hear, and panic speared him.
Had Cronus decided to kill her on his own, then? Lucien struggled more forcefully against the bonds, but the links never budged.
"Anya!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
"I WANT THE ALL-KEY, ANYA."
Tensing at the sudden intrusion, Anya faced her nemesis, her heart pounding inside her chest. Here he was, up close and personal. Cronus, the brand-new king of gods. A vile bastard. And the guy who'd ordered Lucien to hunt her down and slay her like an animal.
Hey, that'd make a great singles ad, she thought drily. Powerful SWM with a penchant for ordering hits, looking for SWF to help rule the world. Interested? Stroke my ego and give me all you hold dear.
"I want an eternity of peace," she replied, "but we don't always get what we want. Do we?"
His teeth clinked together.
Anya had come here to change her clothing, which she'd done a few minutes ago, going from baggy to sexy in minutes. Thank thenot the gods, that was for sureCronus hadn't materialized then. She didn't want any man but Lucien seeing her naked.
Lucien.
She'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of him that she hadn't realized Cronus had made an appearance in her Zürich apartment until he'd spoken. That wasn't like her. Usually she knew. Usually she sensed and ran.
She could have flashed just then, but she didn't. Suddenly she wanted to hear what the big dumb-dumb had to say. Did he mean to complain about Lucien?
"The key," Cronus snapped. "Give it to me."
"We've covered this before, bossie baby. My answer hasn't changed."
He circled around her, facing her, glaring at her, so close his thick silver beard tickled her chin. His long white robe brushed her legs and his ambrosia scent wafted around her. Power radiated from him.
The Greeks had been powerful, too. Zeus with his lightning and Hera with her penchant for jealous revenge. But this being had mowed them down as if they were insignificant flies and would love to do the same to her.
Unexpectedly, he straightened. His expression cleared. "I have seen your interactions with Death."
"So?" she said, trying not to reveal an ounce of trepidation. Which interactions had he witnessed? The idea that he might have watched the two of them in Lucien's bedroom revolted her. "What of it?"
"You like him."
"Again, so? I like a lot of men." Please don't hear the lie in my voice.
"Willingly give me the All-Key, and I will bind him to your side. He will be yours to command for all eternity."
Oh, that was tempting. Cronus probably had no idea just how great a gift he was offering. Finally, she would be on equal footing with a man. To have Lucien for as long as she wanted him, to simply ask him to do something and know he would comply. But she'd spent centuries fighting to prevent such a fate herself. She couldn't wish it on another, especially a man as proud as Lucien. Plus, he was already bound by his demon. Plus, he'd only just been released from Maddox's death-curse. Taking even more of his freedom would be criminal.
"Nope. Sorry. I'd be tired of him within a week. Right now his attempts to kill me are amusing, and I'm enjoying toying with his affections, but" She shrugged as if she were already tired of it. "Why don't you just take the key from me?" She batted her lashes at him innocently. "Why don't you kill me for it?"
His scowl returned. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"
"Maybe a wee bit." With the taunt, she heard her father's voice in her head as clearly as if he'd spoken the words yesterday, though too many years to count had passed. Men will try to kill you for what I am about to give you, because they'll wrongly think it's the way to win it from you.
Kill me. For what? I don't understand. She'd shaken her head. Never mind, just don't give me whatever it is. I don't want any more men after me. Just let me go.
And risk your being found and imprisoned again? No. Soon you will realize the key's reward is worth its hazards. You will never be bound again. You will be able to travel anywhere you desire with only a thought. You will be free. Always.
Key? Father
Listen to me. If they can kill you, they can snatch it, but he who strikes the death blow will be rendered powerless for the rest of his life. Because of that, many will leave you alone. Some, though, will forget the consequences in their lust to control the key's powers.
Are you listening? he'd chided, shaking her. Be vigilant. It has to be given freely for the recipient to remain strong. But then you, the giver, will be the one rendered powerless. For the key is alive, part of you, and absorbs pieces of you that will be transferred should you pass it on to another. Understand now?
No!
Once you take it, never let it go. It is yours, my gift to you. Proof of my love.
Teary-eyed, she had opened her mouth to ask if he would be rendered powerless by giving the mysterious key to her, but he'd already taken matters into his own hands, so to speak. He'd already begun to weaken.
"I'm not going to use it against you," she told Cronus now. "Well, not again."
"As you said, we have covered this. You will."
"Only for my parents. Which means, only if you capture them again."
"I am unwilling to take your word. You are a known liar."
There was no denying that. Not without lying. "Look, we both know you want Lucien to kill me, making him powerless while you keep your strength. The key will be up for grabs, but he'll be too weak to make a play for it, leaving the field wide open for you. I could tell him. He might tell you to go fuck yourself then."
"You do not believe that or you would have told him already."
Maybe. Maybe not. She suspected she hadn't told Lucien not because of what he'd do to Cronus but because of what he'd do to her. Like walk away from her for good. Besides that, would he even have believed her? He probably would have thought she'd made the whole thing up to keep him at bay.
"We both know it will not stop him from obeying me," Cronus said. "He loves his warriors too much to watch them suffer, even if the price of their freedom is his own."
"So why hasn't he obeyed you already, huh?"
"You have bewitched him."
She should be so lucky. She sighed, the sound part exasperation, part remembered pleasure. LucienEven now he was in bed. Naked. Did he still want her?
His desire had been a thing of beauty, and she'd been eager to see it through to the end. To taste him again. She, too, probably would have climaxed again, for just the thought of sucking him to another orgasm made her tremble.
Trying to distract herself, she flipped her hair over one shoulder and eyed Cronus. Time to get his mind off Lucien. "Having the key mightmightfortify Tartarus and make it the stronghold it once was, locking the Greeks inside forevermore so that they don't escape like you did. But where is the fun in that? Where's the adventure?"
"I lost my sense of adventure long ago." He waved a dismissive hand through the air. "I will not be overthrown again. I will not have the Greeks escaping, and I will not have you aiding them. To ensure my continued reign, I need the key."
"Listen, you're not the only one with problems. I'm hunted on a daily basis, remember? Giving up the key means losing my strength, my abilities, my memoriesperhaps even my freedom. If I'm ever locked away again, I won't be able to escape."
"I have offered you my protection in the past. You have always turned me down."
"And I will continue to do so." He could change his mind. He could demand further payment from her to continue protecting her. He could forget about her.
"Tell me what you want, then, and it is yours. Things do not have to end badly for you."
"There's nothing I want." Things were perfect for her right now. No one could bind her, and no one could kill her without severe consequences. She had a kind-of boyfriend who rocked her world, even if they couldn't seal the deal. Why give any of that up?
Besides, anything she wanted she could procure on her own. And she did have a plan for getting Cronus off her trail. Those artifacts the Lords were searching for. Cronus wanted them back. They were a source of his power, and as she well knew, Cronus loved him some power.
Once she had themand used them to find Pandora's boxshe'd trade them for that vow of protection. Even from him. For herself, for Lucien. Best of all, she'd still have the key.
She studied her nails. "Mind if I take off now? This conversation is boring and I have places to go, yada, yada, yada."
Cronus's eyes narrowed. "One day in the near future I will know what it takes to humble you. I will know what it takes to crush you. And when I do, you will wish you had given the key to me this day."
He disappeared in a melodramatic flash of blinding blue light. Anya stumbled forward, knees suddenly going weak. She scrubbed a hand down her face, feeling the first tremors of anxiety. Antagonizing the king of gods had not been smart, but it was not in her nature to cower or obey.
I will know what it takes to crush you, he'd said, and she believed him. All Cronus had to do was threaten to destroy Lucien, and she feared she would give him anything. Maybe even the key. She couldn't let Cronus know how much Lucien was coming to mean to her, that her days and nights were filled with thoughts of him.
Cronus had to suspect, at least a little, she realized. Why else offer her Lucien's eternal affections?
Shit, she thought. She'd have to do something to throw the big cheese off. Would ignoring Lucien, painful as it sounded, do the trick? Or would Cronus see the longing on her face, the torment in her eyes? Hell, would she even be able to stay away from Lucien? She hadn't managed the feat yet.
Wouldn't be wise to keep her distance, she decided. She would find the artifacts faster working with him rather than against him. Relief and need trembled through her. I get to be with him again.
Yeah, you get to be with him, but you can't let Cronus see how much you care.
She frowned, relief fading. Did that mean there could be no more physical pleasure?
The answer proved grim. Kissing would be fine because she'd kissed others. But anything else would merely prove how special Lucien was to her. Her shoulders sagged. I'll have to be my usual flippant self and keep things light. No more touching, no more skin-to-skin contact.
"Fucking Cronus," she grumbled to cover her sudden tears.
LUCIEN HAD WORKED HIMSELF into a fit of rage.
It had happened only once before, a prolonged fury that lasted several days after Mariah's death, and he'd vowed never to let it happen again. The destruction had been too great. But as he'd watched Anya with Cronus, he'd been unable to stop himself from slipping into the dark throes of fury.
Now red glowed behind his eyes; a cold sweat slicked his skin. Death roared like a banshee inside his mind. His breath was so hot it was like fire as it pushed from his nose. He was more demon than man, darkness clouding his every thought.
He'd already hacked the bed to bits, freeing the chain from the headboard but not from himself. After that, he'd blazed a path of destruction through the entire house. Because the chain was still attached to his wrist, he couldn't dematerialize. Didn't matter, though. He was too busy seething. Too busy imagining death and blood and killing. Had one of the other warriors walked into the room just then, he would have attacked. Would have been unable to stop himself. And wouldn't have cared.
Cronus could have killed Anya, and there would have been no way for Lucien to aid her. He hadn't been able to help Mariah, and the guilt had tormented him ever since. Anya, thoughHe roared, loud and long.
"Uh, you wanna explain this?" a woman asked when he quieted.
Hearing the voice, he wheeled around with a snarl. He saw the outline of a lithe female form. Pale hair. Delicate shoulders. He clutched a sword in his hand. Kill, kill, kill.
Scowling, he stomped toward her.
She backed away. "Lucien?"
Lifting the sword high above his head, he gave it a menacing twirl. KILL. The tip flew down, aiming for the woman's neck. She must have moved because the sword hit the floor rather than flesh. He hissed.
A moment later, something tapped his shoulder from behind.
He swung around. A fist connected with his nose. His head whipped to the side, and warm liquid rushed down his lips and chin.
"You better calm down, Death, or you're going to make me mad."
He lifted the sword again, but it was knocked from his grip. With another roar, he leapt forward, grabbing the woman. He shook her, meaning to snap her in half.
"Lucien," she said, and this time there was a calming, hypnotic quality to her voice. "Lucien. Seriously. I'm not a rag doll. Calm down. Tell me what's wrong."
Finally a sense of awareness slithered into his mind and man raced ahead of demon. His captive's skin was hothe recognized that heat. She smelled like strawberries and creamhe recognized that fragrance.
"Tell sweet little Anya what's going on in that fat head of yours," she cooed. Soft hands caressed his cheeks. "Pretty please, with a cherry on top of me."
Anya.
The name echoed in his mind, cracking the red haze and allowing light inside. He blinked his eyes and a perfect pixie came into focus. A snowfall of hair. Bright blue eyes. Pink cheeks.
"Anya?"
"Right here, lover."
Dear gods. He glanced around the room, saw the destruction and the blood. His blood. He'd cut his hands, he recalled, when he'd punched the walls. Regret slammed into him.
Not again.
"Did I hurt you?" He returned his attention to the woman in his arms, studying her intently. Her skin was rosy soft, not bruised, and her eyes were gleaming. She wore a tight black T-shirt and equally tight black pants, neither of which were ripped. Glittery black heels encased her feet, open at the toes and showcasing black-painted toenails.