The Darkest Warrior Page 12

  "I dreamed of...an impossibility," she said. Before he had a chance to respond, she placed the focus on him. "You used past tense with your family, people and army. What happened?"

  "I haven't been home in a while." The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he pointed to the distance. "Another doorway is up ahead. This one leads to Amaranthia, the realm of all realms, and the greatest home in the history of homes. Or it will be, soon."

  "Wait. We're already at the end of our journey?" Her gaze skipped past him, searching, searching but finding no hint of a doorway. "But... I thought it would take us days or weeks." As soon as they stepped past the doorway, the terms of their bargain changed.

  And no, she wasn't excited.

  "Some things you should know," he said. "Amaranthia has long stretches of desert sand, the occasional oasis, only three major bodies of water, magic and endless wars."

  "Magic?" As in, hocus-pocus?

  "Time uses a different clock there," he continued, ignoring her question. "A hundred years in Amaranthia can be minutes, hours, days or weeks in the mortal realm. The clock speeds up or slows down depending on the season."

  Was he kidding? He had to be kidding.

  Tension crackled over every inch of her body. "When I turn one hundred and eighteen years old, my friends might have only lived another couple of hours or days?"

  "Exactly," he said with a nod. "I have lived thousands of years moving between realms. You won't know the difference."

  "But they will." She dug in her heels, saying, "I'm not going to your realm. Take me to Budapest. Or anywhere, as long as I stay on Earth."

  He pulled her along, increasing his pace. "Be thankful Amaranthia is not a realm where time flows backward. And you already agreed to go. There will be no take backs."

  "No, I--"

  "My friends are there. Cameron, keeper of Obsession, and Winter, keeper of Selfishness." He tilted his head to the side, and pursed his lips. "She could inadvertently learn the truth, perhaps cause problems."

  Was he talking to himself--about Gillian? "What truth?" she demanded. "Cause problems? Why?"

  "Very well, I'll do it," he said, still speaking to himself. Then, "I have a confession to make, lass. And when you learn the truth, you will not cause me problems. Understand?"

  "What truth?" she repeated. "Tell me."

  "Before we married, I told you that I didn't know you belonged to William of the Dark, but I lied."

  "Wait. What?" Lied? But her lie-dar had never pinged! And despite her earlier suspicions of this very thing, shock managed to punch her in the gut, stealing her breath. "Lying is the language of my stephorrors."

  "I'm nothing like those men. I never harmed you. I ensured you were made healthy...while also putting myself on the right path to achieve my goals." As if he were reading from a script, he said, "Bond. Escort. Return. The bonding is done, the escorting close to an end. Then I'll return. William. War."

  "War?" Gillian ears began to ring. "You acted as if you were doing me a favor, you rotten piece of garbage, but you were only helping your goals! One of which includes war."

  As calm as ever, her insult of no consequence, he said, "I misled you for three reasons. One, I needed to convince you to bond with me. Two, you would have resisted our travels. And three, I need William's help, and you are my bargaining chip."

  Even worse! He'd used her against William, a man who'd only ever protected her. Dang it, she should have protected him right back.

  "Our deal is off, Puck! Off! Do you understand?"

  "I understand you are being irrational."

  Irrational? "I'm not going to make you laugh or cry, you miserable piece of crap. I'm going to make you dead."

  A bomb of fury discharged inside her, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. Her heart melted against her ribs, warping the beat, and the sides of her lungs fused together.

  Red dots flickered through her sight line, giving her tunnel vision. Must destroy Puck!

  Launching onto his back, she hammered her fists into his chest. With each blow, sharp pains consumed her chest. Who cared? What was pain?

  "Coward! Liar!" The worst insult of them all. "You disgust me." Not good enough. "You repulse me." Better.

  "You are alive because of me."

  "I'm miserable because of you!"

  Regret seemed to pulse from him, there and gone in a flash.

  An illusion? Too late to tell. With a screech, she switched her aim to his face, and battered his nose. More pain, blood pouring down her mouth and chin. Still she didn't care.

  Puck caught her wrists in a bruising grip, effectively ending her tirade. "My news should thrill you. After I drop you off with my friends, I'll return to the mortal realm to recruit William. He'll help me win back my crown, and I'll sever my bond to you."

  Deep breath in, deep breath out. Tamp down your fury. Act as if all is well. When the time comes, strike.

  First, she had to gather information. "What do you mean, you'll sever our bond?" she asked through clenched teeth. "We can officially divorce without dying?"

  "That is the plan, aye." He offered no more, just resumed marching forward.

  Um, did he not realize plans could be derailed? "Explain," she insisted, trying to hop off his back.

  Silent, he readjusted her position and tightened his grip, ensuring every step rubbed her breasts against him. Lance after lance of pleasure tore through her, and she hissed.

  "Let me down. Now. I won't fight you anymore." Not yet, anyway.

  Perhaps the fear in her voice spurred him on. He wrapped an arm around her waist and swung her around. For a split second, she hung upside down. Then he righted her and placed her on her feet, directly in front of him.

  "I will do anything to win my crown," he told her. "No deed is too dark. No task too gruesome."

  The fire in her veins cooled. "Why?"

  "Long ago, my brother betrayed me. He turned a champion into a monster and later killed our father, all to keep the Connacht crown for himself. He is destroying my home, hurting my people, and he must be stopped. I will save the lands and the clans, and I will avenge the wrongs done to me. According to the Oracles, my only hope of success was finding William of the Dark and wedding his woman."

  Oracles? And oh, how casually he spoke of Gillian's doom.

  "I deserve to wear the crown," he added. "I deserve vengeance. And I will be good to my people. I just need William's help."

  "You're despicable," she spat.

  "I know. But at least you're still alive. I saved you from certain death, something your precious William wasn't willing to do."

  "Thanks for the reminder, goat man. But to what end?" she snapped. "Sometimes death is preferable to life." Her stephorrors had taught her that lesson very well. "William is smart. He'll know better than to trust you."

  Puck hiked his wide shoulders in a shrug--a shrug!--and offered no assurances to the contrary.

  She had to escape him, had to warn William.

  Gillian faked left and darted right, but only made it four steps away before Puck caught her.

  "Brace yourself," he said. "We enter Amaranthia in five, four, three, two..."

  She attempted to wrench free, but he tightened his hold.

  Between one blink and the next, everything changed. The humid heat of the rain forest morphed into cold desert winds, grains of sand pelting her skin. The drop in temperature shocked her system and momentarily rendered her immobile.

  Two golden suns shone from a purple-red sky. There were no homes that she could see. No animals, bodies of water or people.

  Escape. Now! She spun, shoved Puck out of the way and soared through the invisible doorway they'd just exited--

  Nope. She ate sand.

  "Where is the doorway?" she screeched. Where had it gone?

  Puck peered up at the odd-colored sky, his arms spread, his legs braced apart. Before her eyes, he transformed, the horns vanishing, and the fur on his legs quickly following suit. His cheekbones, on
ce sharp enough to cut glass, softened somewhat. His claws retracted, and the boots and hooves turned to mist, revealing human feet.

  Not just beautiful. Utterly exquisite... But also a stranger to her. She'd rather deal with the devil she knew.

  He closed his eyes, inhaled...exhaled...as if savoring the moment. Another deception, surely. This horrible male savored nothing.

  "How is this possible?" she demanded.

  "A right of birth and magic. But it hasn't happened in so long... I thought the ability gone forever."

  No way, no how magic controlled his appearance. Absolutely impossible! Except, he'd just gone from beast to chic in less than a blink. Denial was silly. Magic truly existed, and not just the hocus-pocus variety.

  One day, too many fantastical things would happen and her mind would break.

  A right of birth, he'd said. "So you didn't have horns and hooves as a child?" she asked.

  "Not until my possession."

  "Can you use magic to morph into other forms, as well?" she asked, wanting--needing--to know the depths of his power.

  "Once, but no longer." Just as quickly as Puck had transformed into a normal man, he returned to his beastly form.

  "Why don't you stay normal, then?"

  A muscle jumped underneath his eye. "You think I don't want to?" He took her hand and--

  She gasped. His skin--calloused and warm--glowed. Beautiful, sweeping symbols stretched from the tips of his fingers to his wrists. Reminded her of henna markings, except actual jewels seemed to glitter beneath the surface of his skin.

  As he kicked onward, dragging her along, she asked, "How are your hands lit up like a Christmas tree?"

  "How else? Magic," he repeated.

  Magic he could use against her?

  Gillian pondered her options. She could try to run--again--but how could she hope to evade him? She had no idea where she was, or what dangers awaited her. Or how many other warriors wielded magic. She could stay with Puck and bide her time, but the clock had officially started. Hours or days for William now equaled one hundred years for her.

  Her friend was lost to her forever, wasn't he, despite what Puck had claimed?

  Tears spilled from her eyes, leaving hot tracks as they streamed down her cheeks. "If you're gone for even a few days, hundreds of years could pass for me. I'll change, but you won't. William won't," she croaked. Time always left some sort of mark. "He might not want me anymore." Who was she kidding? He didn't want her now. He'd washed his hands of her.

  The muscles in Puck's hand clenched and unclenched. "Changed or not, he'll want you. No man can look at you and not want you."

  "You don't. You plan to happily, eagerly let me go." Am I complaining?

  "I will let you go, aye. One day, I'll even remarry. My father announced my betrothal to Princess Alannah of Daingean the same day my brother betrayed me. I'll claim her and open a stable."

  Breath wheezed through her nose. "What if she's already married by then? And what's a stable?"

  "I'll murder her husband." His tone remained casual, unconcerned. "You would call a stable a harem."

  No, she would call it a nightmare. This is the man I pledged my eternity to? "I'm sure the two of you and your harem will live happily-ever-after," she snapped.

  Two men sprang up from hiding places in the sand, and Gillian reared back, startled. Puck had no reaction whatsoever. Of course.

  As daggers glinted in the hands of each assailant, fear crept up her spine. "Run!"

  Silent, Puck yanked her to his side.

  With a war cry, the men rushed forward. To Puck's credit, he didn't throw her in their path to slow them down. Instead, he shoved her to the ground and spun, his long hair flinging out, razor blades cutting through the eyes of their would-be attackers. As the pair screamed, he unsheathed a dagger and slit their throats.

  Both men collapsed in front of her, blood pouring from gaping wounds. A strange black mist rose from the bodies and enveloped Puck. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply, and the mist disappeared--inside him.

  Horrified, Gillian watched as he casually cleaned his razor blades on a dead man's shirt.

  What have I done?

  14

  Another goal met. Puck had found William, bonded to Gillian, and now had her tucked inside Amaranthia.

  Next up? Bargaining with William, warring with Sin. William. War. Divorce. So close.

  Then his goals would shift again. Remarry. Murder. Unite.

  Puck should celebrate, but he was too busy fighting Gillian's magnetic appeal, calling on centuries of emotional disconnect to keep from pouncing. Why had he insisted she continue to try to make him feel? Foolish!

  Indifference kicked up a fuss, only to go quiet between one heartbeat and the next.

  Gillian groaned and rubbed her temples. "Ugh! The roaring is back."

  He jolted. "Roaring?"

  "After we bonded, I heard an animal-like roar in the back of my mind. Then it stopped, but now it's back. I don't know why."

  "I do," he grated. So that's what had happened. Indifference now moved between them. Like an unwanted child shuffled between divorced parents. I'll take Diff on Christmas, if you'll take him on New Year's.

  The fiend must be weakened, though, because he'd had plenty of opportunities to impair both Puck and Gillian, but hadn't. Between them, they'd experienced guilt, envy, sadness, hope. Desire. So much desire. Fury.

  Oh, had Gillian indulged in fury. She'd come alive. A warrior ready to be trained for battle. Savagely fearless.

  Puck had seen potential...and had only wanted her more.

  Whenever he'd scented poppiberries--a fragrance innate to her--he'd wanted to taste her. Whenever she'd spoken, he'd longed to whisk her away and keep her forever.

  Can't keep her. Must let her go.

  But right now, she's mine.

  No, no. Enough of that. Better to maintain as much distance as possible, before she burrowed any deeper under his skin. And she had burrowed under his skin.

  But through it all, he'd remained strong and fierce, never weakening.

  He wondered if he'd shared his hidden emotions with Gillian, too. He felt more in control of everything but desire, and her moods kept shifting...

  Maybe, maybe not. But either way, her dislike of him was all her own.

  He could win her over. And what if he could keep her? What had the Oracles said about William, exactly?

  Wed the girl who belongs to William of the Dark...she is the key...

  Bring your wife to our lands and lead the dark one here after. Only the male who will live or die for the girl has the power to dethrone Sin the Demented.

  Only then shall you have all you desire.

  But do not forget Ananke's shears, for they are necessary...

  There's no other way.

  Puck wouldn't live or die for her. My kingdom for my wife? No! But William wouldn't live or die for her, either; he would have let morte ad vitam kill her. And in the end, he had let her go without a fight. But Puck's actions had most likely caused a change...right? By now, William had to understand the treasure he'd lost. He would live or die for Gillian. He would fight for her.

  Puck's hands curled into fists. If William happened to be slain immediately after Sin lost the Connacht crown, well, Puck could have his clan, his realm, and keep the woman...and launch all of Amaranthia into a war with Hades. And the Red Queen. And the Lords of the Underworld. And Gillian herself. She would never forgive him.

  "Well?" she asked, and he realized he'd gotten lost in his head. "Why am I hearing roars?"

  The truth would frighten her. But shouldn't he warn her?

  "Indifference has invaded your mind," he said.

  "Indifference...the demon?"

  He nodded in confirmation, and she went rigid.

  "There's a demon inside me?" she gasped out.

  "He's still tied to me, but he's using our bond to hide inside you."

  "Get him out! Get him out right now."

&n
bsp; He tried, he did, willing the fiend to return but...nothing happened.

  Gillian tugged at her hair. "He's not leaving!"

  "I don't think you'll weaken with emotion, as I do. Or did," Puck said. "I think our bond weakened him."

  Ashen, she wrapped her arms around her middle. "Before our bond, you weakened when you felt emotion?"

  "Yes." Something he'd never admitted to another, not even his friends, after they'd witnessed an episode. The information could have been used against him. "That's why I stayed away from you so many days after our first meeting. I didn't have the strength to return."

  The panic leached from her, leaving her lax. "That's awful. I'm so sorry, Puck."

  Sympathy? For him? "Enough talk." What was done was done, and he would not feel guilty. Nope, he wouldn't. "Come." Determined, he pulled her upright and, maintaining hold of her hand, kicked into motion. "The longer I'm here, the longer you'll be parted from William." The words lashed from him, more vehement than a whip.

  "You've placed too much importance on my relationship with him. He has hundreds of lovers. Maybe thousands. I'm just a friend. Or rather, I was."

  "Friends are better than lovers. His desperation to save you from my sinister clutches will only increase. He'll happily bargain for your freedom."

  "Okay. Let's say you're right, and I'm special," she said. "Do you really think he'll help you after everything you've done?"

  "Yes. Because to him--" to me? "--your safety means more than your pride."

  "Just...let me go." She sounded deadened now. "This isn't going to end well for you."

  Puck stopped, turned and locked gazes with her, only to have his thoughts derail.

  Breathtaking. Stunning. Exquisite.

  Tantalizing. Titillating.

  Mine.

  Never mine.

  She wore her immortality well.

  Earlier, he'd stolen clean clothes for her. As wind gusted, a gauzy white dress clung to one side of her curvaceous body. Around her delicate face danced long locks of hair; as beams of sunlight caressed her, the strands gleamed with different shades of brown: maple, umber and cinnamon.

  One touch, and he would--

  Must focus. "William might be able to best Sin, but your male will never best me. I am second to none." Puck leaned down, letting the tip of his nose brush against hers. "Perhaps you think little of my worst because, so far, you've only seen my best. Would you like a taste of the terrible things I can do?"