This topic should have dulled her passion, but it didn't.
Every muscle in Gideon's body tensed. And not in desire.
Great. The distraction ploy had worked. Only, it had worked on the wrong person.
"When we were freed, the Greeks defeated, I tried to follow her to this palace. I hoped to make amends with her, make use of the libraries." To search for information about Gideon, but Scarlet kept that to herself. "She had me barred from entering." Bitterness trickled from her voice, but again, it didn't dull her passion in the slightest. He was on top of her, and all she had to do was open her legs. "She told me I wasn't worthy to walk the halls."
His eyes narrowed dangerously. "How'd you get her to keep you out this time?"
Knowing what he meanthow had she gotten her mother to let her inScarlet said, "I bargained with her." Would he be pissed about that? "I have to stop you from giving Cronus whatever it is you promised him. What did you promise, by the way?"
No. No anger. Surprising. "We didn't agree to discuss it at a later date," he said.
Ah. The old you'll-owe-me-a-favor-of-my-choosing-at-the-time-of-my-choosing. "You lied to him, of course." It was a statement, not a question.
Gideon hiked his shoulders.
She'd take that as a resounding yes, and wished she could trust herself to flatten her hands on those wide shoulders, feel the muscles bunching and straining underneath. "So there you have it. What you didn't know about my life in a dirty nutshell."
He peered down at her for a long while, silent, searching. So many emotions played over his features. Regret, sorrow and the anger she'd looked for before. "I'm...not sorry for all you've endured. I'm...not sorry for my part in it. Damn it!" The anger clearly won, and he pounded the mattress with his fists, bouncing them both. "I really love that I can't tell you what I really mean without setting us back a few days."
His apology weakened her as nothing else could have. His vehemence delighted her. Combined? They slayed her. "Hey, don't worry about it," she offered, at last giving in to the desire to touch. Her fingers traced up his arms, learning every ridge of muscle and sinew. "Gideon Speak is kinda fun."
Like that, the anger drained from him, wonder overshadowing everything else. "You aren't too good for me. In every way. No, thank you, devil. For everything."
He thought she was too good for him? Slayed. Her. "No welcome," she replied softly.
He licked his lips as his gaze fell to hers, and suddenly she knew his passion hadn't been extinguished, after all. "II"
"Want to kiss me?"
He nodded. "I'm not dying to do so."
Don't admit it, don't you dare admit it. "Me, too."
One more time, she thought dazedly. She would enjoy him one more time. Sex, though? No, she wouldn't go that far. But kiss him, continue touching him? Oh, yes. She needed to pass the time, anyway. At least, that's the only reason she would cop to just then. Besides, it wasn't like she truly would have left him here, helpless against any god or goddess who entered the room. For the moment, he was still her husband and she would protect him.
"If we do this, the shadows and the screams will return," she warned. "I won't be able to stop them. They're part of me, part of my demon."
"I dislike anything that's a part of you. I don't want to experience everything you have to offer."
Melting... "Then kiss me," she commanded. Then his sweet words would cease, and she could begin to rebuild the ice. That needed ice.
Gideon needed no other encouragement. His lips were on hers a second later, kissing her as if he needed the air in her lungs to survive. He moaned as if he'd never tasted anything more delicious. Kneaded her breasts as if nothing, even weakness, could prevent him from enjoying them.
Once again, her blood heated in her veins, a growing inferno that liquefied her bones. Her nipples hardened, ever-ready for his mouth, and her skin tingled, a plea for more.
"Want you clothed," he rasped.
Only time she ever had to translate his demon's lies was when they were in bed, her mind on other things, so it took her passion-fogged brain a moment to realize that Gideon actually wanted her naked.
Sex? she thought again. If she got naked, he would be inside her. She might even beg for it. Beg...yes... Hopefully, though, she had a little too much pride for that. "No," she managed.
He paused, lifted his head. Their gazes met, his eyes so bright a blue they rivaled a king's ransom in sapphires. He licked his already moist lips, breathing careful. "How about we don't negotiate?" His voice was rough, as if each of the words had been rubbed with sandpaper.
Negotiate, huh? "All right." Never let it be said that she was unreasonable. "Shoot."
"All rather than half."
Reality: he was willing to remove half her clothing rather than all. A concession, yes, when he could have insisted on full nudity. Eventually, she would have caved. "And in return I get...?"
"Definitely not an orgasm."
Her lips quirked at the corners. "Do you want me to remove the top or the bottom?"
"Top." Lightning fast, no hesitation.
He wanted her pants off, and gods, she wanted to take them off. "Deal," she said with a nod. "You can take my top off." Better that way.
Too bad she hated "better."
His lips quirked as hers had done, because he knew she'd purposely misunderstood. "As if you didn't know I wasn't lying," he said, calling her on it. "As if I don't know you meant to say pants."
With a strength she wouldn't have thought him capable of in light of his demon's curse, Gideon shoved the sweats and panties from her waist to her ankles, then off completely. A gasp left her, cool air suddenly caressing her. He didn't give her time to complain or even encourage him. He crawled down her body. And there was the moment to stop him...gone. He pushed her legs apart. Another moment...gone again. He licked the most aching part of her.
"Yes!" Her back arched as she cried out, her hands already in his hair, holding him close.
She rode the waves of pleasure with abandon. No, no, not abandon. Had to keep the shadows and the screams inside. Gideon didn't mind them, he'd said, but she wasn't yet ready to share him. She wanted this moment all to herself, that fiery tongue working her, loving her.
"Don't want more?" he rasped.
"II" Can't admit it. He'll say something sweet, and more of that ice will melt. "More. Please."
"No more it is." He continued to lick, his teeth scraping perfectly, making her shiver. Soon his fingers joined the play, one sinking in and out, then two. Three. The shadows pulled, and the screams tugged.
"Gideon." She released him and grabbed the headboard, hips arching in a fluid, desperate rhythm. Felt so good, so damn good. Was propelling her so close to the edge...
"Terrible," he muttered, eye closed to half-mast, lips curled in a half-smile. "Just terrible. Had my fill. Will always have my fill."
He likes it, she reminded herself. Wants more. Wouldn't ever get enough.
Ice...melting. Heating...
Don't care, she realized suddenly. She wanted the blaze to grow, consume.
Scarlet draped her legs over his shoulders, the heels of her feet digging into his lower back, her thighs squeezing his temples.
"But something I do like...you're not holding out on me." A muscle ticked below his eye as his lashes lifted and he pinned her with a hard stare. "Where are the shadows and the screams you didn't promise me?"
"I don't...I can't... Don't stop now!"
"Don't let them go, and don't show me our wedding," he said, and then sucked her clitoris between his teeth.
She screamed, she shook, she almost came, the pleasure was so intense. But she wasn't quite there. Just a little more, and she'd fly to the heavens. "Please."
"Scar...wedding...I don't want to see it." His voice was strained, as if he had to force the words out.
"Now?" she panted. While he was...while she was..."We're a little busy."
"Can't you do it while I'm sleeping?" He blew a puff of air against her warm, moist folds, and as sensitive as she currently was, she was thrust ever closer to satisfaction.
It was wonderful and terrible, gratifying and frustrating.
"Yes," she grumbled. "I can do it while you're awake." She could project images into his mind at any time. Nightmares was just as able to invade daydreams, after all. But just then Scarlet wanted Gideon concentrating only on her aching body. On the here and now.
"Then, nope. I want you to do it later."
"Why?" Why couldn't he wait till after? Because he feared she'd leave him? Because he thought she'd deny him? "Never mind. But be warned. The ceremony was short, we couldn't risk something longer, and kind of somber." She'd give him what he wanted, though. "Just know that the moment you stop, I stop." There. Bargaining, just as he liked.
"My displeasure," he practically purred, tongue flicking out and darting back and forth over her clit.
Once again, her back bowed. Okay, maybe demanding he continue hadn't been the most brilliant of plans. Her thoughts were fragmenting again, her blood heating yet another degree, her organs blistering before erupting into more of those decadent flames, her bones melting, wanting only to pour over him.
In a burst, the shadows and the screams escaped her hold, swirling around Gideon and filling the room. Just as well. She could use them to create the daydream.
Concentrate. Scarlet dug through her favorite mental filesfiles she'd buried and thought to never consider againand found the one Gideon desired.
Instantly the scene opened up in both their minds.
Late at night, while the prisoners of Tartarus slept, Gideon roused Hymen, the imprisoned Titan god of Marriage, and brought him to the cell they used for making love.
For Scarlet, Gideon had arranged a lingering bath a few hours before, and had given her a clean white robe. Only, that robe was composed of lace and that lace conformed to her curves. She'd never felt lovelier, before or since.
When the two men stepped into her cell, she threw back her hood in eagerness, and her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulder, brushed and silky for once. Gideon reached out, pinched a lock between two fingers, and brought the strands to his nose. He breathed deeply his gaze perusing her.
"Hideous," the Gideon between her legs breathed just as the Gideon in the dream rasped, "Exquisite."
A blush stained her cheeks, then and now. But she wasn't the exquisite one, and she knew it. There was no more gorgeous sight than Gideon. His black hair rose in spikes, his blue eyes were bright, the midnight lashes framing them like feathered fans, and his lips still swollen from her earlier kisses.
He possessed a shadow beard, sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. There wasn't a flaw to him. He wore the thin silver armor she'd shown him in his dream of Steel, as directed by Zeus, and that armor was etched with jagged butterflies exactly like the tattoos they now bore.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked nervously. Back then, her voice had lacked the...hardness of today, and even Scarlet had to acknowledge how sweet and innocent she sounded.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life, sweetness."
Her blush intensified, and ever shy, she cast her gaze to the ground, lips curling into a happy smile. "I'm glad."
"Well, I'm not sure about this," Hymen said. He cleared his throat, drew his hood around his face to keep his features hidden in shadow. "If anyone learns of my part in this, I'll be executed."
Gideon's arm wrapped around Scarlet's waist, a clear gesture of possession. "I told you. No one will learn of it, and besides that, you've already been handsomely rewarded."
"But I"
"Discovery is the least of your worries," Gideon barked then. "Marry us or feel the sting of my blade. Those are your only choices. And, Hymen. If you feel the sting of my blade, it won't be only once. No one will recognize you when I'm done."
Hymen shifted from one foot to the other, his fear palpable. "Of course, of course. We'll start now." The words rushed from him. "Gideon of the Greeks, tell Scarlet of the Titans why you wish to wed her."
Those piercing blue eyes met her dark black ones, and he took her hands in his. "From the first, you enchanted me. You are more than beautiful. You are smart and strong and determined. When I'm with you, I want to be a better man. I want to be worthy of you."
As he spoke, this long-ago Gideon, more ice melted around Scarlet's heart. But he wasn't finished.
"I want to provide for you. I want to give you the life you deserve. One day, I will. Because I know, deep in my soul, that to part is to die."
Tears flooded Scarlet's eyes.
"Scarlet of the Titans," Hymen said, a little choked up himself, "please tell Gideon of the Greeks why you wish to wed him."
While her knees knocked together, Scarlet struggled to find adequate words. Words that would tell this man exactly how she felt. "From the first moment I saw you, I was attracted to you and hated myself for it. But how could I have known that underneath your beautiful exterior was an irresistible mix of courage, passion and tenderness? You quickly proved your worth, and taught me mine. I was a slave, but you made me a woman."
His eyes were filled with tears as well, she noticed.
"You are my everything," she whispered, chin trembling. "My past, present and future. My heart. My life. To part is to die."
Hymen swallowed audibly. "Kiss now and forever-more seal this union."
Gideon didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around her, drew her close and pressed their lips together. Their tongues met, twined, his breath filling her lungs and her breath filling his.
They were one.
In the present, Scarlet allowed the image to fade. She realized she'd never released the headboard, and the metal was bent. Realized Gideon had stopped pleasuring her, but she hadn't noticed, so lost had she been in the memory. So lost, in fact, that real tears were now streaming down her cheeks.
They were streaming down Gideon's, too.
Their gazes met as they had inside that cell, and she saw the emotion swimming in those baby blues.
He was the same, yet so completely different. And the differences weren't physical, though his hair was now as bright a blue as his eyes. He was harder, harsher, more distanced. Before, he'd had an easy smile and had delighted in soothing her with his biting observations of both the Greeks and Titans.
"Do you know why this prison is so big?" he'd once asked her. "Tartarus is overcompensating for the size of his dick."
She'd nearly swallowed her tongue, she'd gasped so hard at his irreverence. She'd always wanted to insult her captors, but had been too scared. Gideon had given her the freedom to do so, to finally vent, even in so small a way.
Now, he opened his mouth, but no words emerged. Perhaps he didn't want to lie just then, and she was grateful. She was too raw, too vulnerable, as if her heart had been cut out of her chest and presented to him in a ribboned box.
Slowly he climbed up her body. Still not speaking, he kissed her. Again, she didn't protest. She simply opened to him, accepting everything he wanted to give. She tasted herself, sweet and warm, but also him. Wild and minty. Before, his hands had been all over her. They'd kneaded at her, both taking and giving pleasure. Now, he cupped her cheeks, infinitely gentle. Giving all, taking nothing.
And like that, the icy shell she'd spent centuries erecting stopped melting. It simply tumbled down, brick by frosted brick.
"Not going to...won't...don't trust me, devil." Gideon unzipped his pants. "Not going to..." Again, he didn't finish. He simply pressed his erection between her legs, hard and unbelievably thick, unyielding male to weeping female, and hissed. He didn't sink inside but rubbed...creating the first bloom of a fever. A slow burn, but all the hotter for it.
Trust him not to take what she hadn't offered. But really, she wouldn't have stopped him if he'd poised himself for penetration. Still. He never did. He contented himself with the rubbing and the kissing, tongues rolling, savoring, simply basking in all that she was, as she did with him.
For a moment, she pretended they were back inside that cell. That this man really was her husband. A husband who loved her, who placed her needs above all things, even himself. She pretended that he would return to her tomorrow as well, love shining in his eyes. She pretended their only obstacle was her imprisonment.
"Gideon," she moaned.
Perhaps he'd been doing the same, pretending, because the sound of her voice snapped him from that steady pace. His movements toughened, sped up. Became more frantic. He'd always been so gentle with her, treated her like a porcelain doll, but now...he was dirty and wanton, consuming, the friction sparking.
She drank him in greedily, luxuriated. And it was easy, so easy to do. To give herself. To lose herself. Even though he was different now. Maybe because he was different.
"Not...my Scar. Not my Scar. Don't touch me," he pleaded. "Please, don't touch me."
Touch. Yes. Must. She pried her fingers from the headboard, her hands falling on him, nerves tingling back to life as her nails grazed his skin, leaving welts. He roared, a song of absolute contentment tinged with utter despair. The past and present, discordant yet soothing.
"You...you..." he said, then stopped himself. "Scar." A prelude, a waiting storm. "Don't come, don't come for me, don't you come for me." With every word, his cock pressed against her clit.
Every muscle in her body stiffened, pain in its most exquisite form. The shadows danced faster...faster...the screams grew louder...louder...until hers joined the symphony, the edge of completion rushing to meet her halfway.
She hurtled over, shaking, shouting, clutching at the man responsible. "Gideon!" My Gideon.
Soon he was shaking as well, roaring again, louder this time, and warm seed was jetting onto her stomach. That only increased her pleasure, spiraling her into a deeper awareness of her body. He was on top of her, weighing her down, all over her, his semen on her skin, branding her.
A marriage of the flesh, base, instinctual. What she'd craved, had never thought to have again. What she'd needed, despite the repercussions.
What would surely be the death of her.
An eternity later, they collapsed together, Scarlet into the mattress, Gideon still on top of her. As the shadows and screams dispersed, neither of them moved. They lay there for a long while, trying to catch their breath, still completely lost in the moment. This was, perhaps, the only relaxed, contented moment they would ever have, because she couldn't allow this again, she realized.
She had to replace the ice.
There was no other way to protect her fragile heart. A heart she couldn't afford to give away. Not again. She barely had any pieces of it left. But there were pieces. And that was just as shocking.
Save yourself. Hurry! She shoved him off her and sat up, not trusting herself to look at him. "Get some rest," she said coldly. "I'll make sure no one enters the room."
Last time they'd fooled around, he hadn't complained about the abrupt change in her. He'd simply done as she'd ordered. Mostly. This time, he latched onto her arm and jerked her backward, twisting her so that she landed on her stomach.
Before she had time to protestso you'd give one now?he raised her shirt and planted a soft kiss on her lower back, where her tattoo rested. TO PART IS TO DIE. The action was so unexpected, so astonishing and secretly welcome, she pressed her lips together to cut off her sob. Damn him. Damn him to hell!
"Don't stay next to me. Don't let me hold you," he whispered. "Please."
Resist. You have to resist. But she found herself nodding and whispering back, "All right." Idiot.
With a sigh, she curled closer to him. I'll patch myself up tomorrow.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IMPATIENCE RODE Strider like a damn carnival pony. Several days had passed since he'd last received a text from Gideon. Last Strider had heard, Gideon was leaving his hotel due to a Hunter infestation. Understandable. But Lies had one more day to check in or return, and then Strider was supposed to search for him. Hell, Gideon might be in trouble and counting on that.
Except, Strider had to remain in the fortress. Some bad shit was about to go down.
What a cluster. Amun, Aeron and William had left a short while ago to perform a search and rescue in the fiery pits of hell. Yeah, a real party in a box. Strider would've liked to go with them, though. At the very least, to trail behind them and offer what protection he could. But he wouldn't be doing that, either.
Instead, he found himself standing inside Torin's bedroom. The keeper of Disease was seated before a wall of monitors, each revealing a different location in the fortress, the mountain outside it and the surrounding city as the warrior typed away on a keyboard.
Normally Torin was nonchalant, irreverent and unruffled. Today he'd tangled his hand through his white hair too many times to count, causing the strands to stick out around his head. His neck-to-toe clothes were wrinkled, and the gloves he wore every minute of every day were frayed in a few places. His expression was dark and somber, and lines of tension bracketed his eyes.
"Where are the Hunters posted again?" Strider asked.
"There, there, there and there." Torin motioned to different monitors with a tilt of his head. "They're in large groups, and they're surrounding the fortress full-circle."
"How were they able to amass and approach without our knowledge?" Torin's eagle eye usually missed nothing. Helped that he could hack into any system, even the city's, the government's, and study areas from their cameras.
"They fucking appeared out of nowhere," the warrior mumbled. "Which means someone flashed them. Lucien can only flash those he touches, so whoever did this is sickeningly powerful. I've summoned Cronus, but he"
"Is here," a hard voice finished.
Both Strider and Torin turned to find Cronus towering in the far corner. The god king strode forward, the hem of his alabaster robe dancing around his ankles. Interesting.
There'd been no flash of light, as the sovereign usually preferred. Like the Hunters, he'd simply appeared.
Was everyone off their game today?
Like Torin, he was in a state of disarray. His dark hair, now minus any gray, was a mop around his head. His tanned skin, no longer marred by wrinkles, was tight with his frown.
"What's going on?" Strider asked. He didn't mind fighting Hunters. In fact, he loved it. Lived for it. His demon did, too. Every victory was like injecting heroin straight into his veins, a high, an addiction. But this...
Some of his friends were gone. The fortress was filled to bursting with women. Some of them delicate, and in need of serious protection. Hell, Maddox's female was pregnant. How was Strider supposed to win this battle and keep everyone safe?
Cronus stopped behind Torin, closer than anyone had dared get to the warrior in years. "Galen is out of commission for the time being, so my...wife" he sneered the word "is dealing directly with the humans. And she's commanded them to storm this fortress, destroy it and everyone inside then steal your artifacts from the rubble."
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. He couldn't even rejoice that Galen was out of commission, for whatever reason. This was bad news, all the way around.
A growl rose from Cronus. "Her daring...offends me."
"Kill her, then," Torin suggested, deadly serious.
Strider seconded that motion.
Never had the god king appeared more wistful. "No. I cannot."
The absolute conviction in his tone surprised Strider. "How about I do it?" Killing females wasn't his favorite thing, but he'd had to do it before. Hunters were fond of using women to distract the Lords, to learn about them and ultimately betray them. He did what was necessary to protect his friends. Always had, always would.
Cronus shook his head, though he hadn't lost his pensive glow. "No."
What the hell was holding him back? "Do you love your wife or something? Even after all she's done to you?"
"Love that whore? No!" A denial spat as if the greedy bastard had just been asked to abdicate his throne.
Kings, man. Worse than females. "Then let me end her."
Cronus rounded on him, fury flickering black and gold in his eyes, and gripped a fistful of Strider's shirt. "You will not touch her. Do you understand me?"
All systems go.
This was a challenge. One Strider couldn't ignore. His demon roared to life, happy, eager to attack. There would be no saving the god queen now. Not without Strider suffering. And that's exactly what happened when he lost. He suffered. And he would do anything to prevent such an outcome. He wanted the heroin.
The king must have realized his mistake. He released Strider, palms out. "My...apologies, Defeat. Do whatever you wish." Though he didn't sound apologetic, the words had the desired effect.
Defeat's eagerness deflated. Challenge over, systems shut down. Disappointed, Strider nodded and smoothed his shirt. "So, you wanna explain? You don't love her, but you want her alive. She's causing you nothing but problems, yet you don't want to end her. I'm drawing a blank on this one."
He could imagine his head separating from his body in the ensuing silence.
Then, "If Rhea dies, I" Cronus scrubbed a hand down his suddenly tired face. "What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room. If it does, I will know and I will retaliate."
Strider and Torin shared a look, then both of them nodded.
Cronus closed his eyes. Several more minutes ticked by in that lethal silence. Then his shoulders slumped, and he sighed, facing them. "If Rhea dies...I die. We are...connected."
Strider's first thought after absorbing the news? Oh, shit, no. Not good. Not good at all. The Lords needed Cronus. For the moment, anyway. Bastard he might be, but that bastard was helping them in ways they hadn't known they'd needed. He'd provided them with ancient scrolls that listed all the immortals possessed by one of Pandora's demons, giving the Lords a chance to capture them before the Hunters did. He was able to whisk them wherever they wished to golike the fiery pits of hell. He had given them necklaces that prevented other gods from being able to spy on them.
Strider fingered the necklace in question. A butterfly with blade-tipped wings, exactly like the one tattooed on the left side of his hip, dangled from the center of an unbreakable chain. What would they do without Cronus's aid?
Return to a life of being ignored by the gods? Sounded good in theory, but what if someone else, someone who didn't want them to succeed, took an interest in their cause?
Torin stopped typing and swiveled in his chair, peering up at the king. "But Rhea's helping Galen. And Danika" the All-Seeing Eye "predicted Galen would kill you. If Danika was right, Galen will also be responsible for Rhea's death. So why would your wife aid him?"
Good point. They'd known for months that Galen would make a play for Cronus's head, but they hadn't known why. Until a few weeks ago, when Strider and a few of the others had finally gotten the surly deities known as the Unspoken Ones to cough up some answers. Whoever presented the Unspoken Ones with the god king's head would be given the Paring Rod, the last of the artifacts needed to find Pandora's box.
Only problem? Each of the Unspoken Ones was part man, part animal and all venom, and he didn't trust them.
They were slaves to Cronusslaves that would be freed upon his deathand would say anything to gain release. Hell, they may not even know where the Rod was.
Besides, there was no telling what kind of havoc they'd wreak if they were loosed. They liked to eat humans, after all. As in, chomp them out and spit out their bones.
The Rod wasn't worth risking the end of the world. Yet.
"Since Rhea flashed the Hunters here," Strider said to Cronus, "can you flash them elsewhere?" He could have patted himself on the back for that one. Someone should probably dub him Master Strategist.
A shake of the king's head dashed his hopes for such a prestigious (and brilliantly invented, if he did say so himself) award. "She'll simply flash them back. Perhaps inside the fortress next time."
"Okay," Strider replied, thinking aloud. "Currently we're missing a chunk of our forces. Which means we won't have an edge if we fight these Hunters. Which means we could lose. Which means it'll be best if we split up. I can take one of the artifacts. Reyes can take Danika, and Lucien and Anya can take the remaining artifact. We'll all go in different directions. The Hunters won't be able to track us all. And with our new necklaces"