The Darkest Kiss lotu-3 Read online

  What had Lucien found? What was he seeing?

  Lucien splayed his arms, pushing everyone behind him and gazing at the wall once more.

  "Lucien?" Strider said, clearly confused. Anya studied him out of the corner of her eye. He had blue eyes and blond hair, was tall and muscled, tanned. His features were roughly hewn, and he had a wicked sense of humor, which she normally preferred.

  Why hadn't she been attracted to him?

  "What do you see?" Paris asked. Eagerness and excitement hummed through the group.

  "Waiting is fun," Gideon said, glaring.

  "Do you recall what the two mortal researchers told us about Zeus and the artifacts?" Lucien asked.

  A murmur of yeses arose.

  "They were mostly correct. I'm looking at a mural that seems to be alive. The images are shifting, revealing detail after detail. After Zeus imprisoned the Titans, he commanded Hydra to hide and guard their treasured artifacts. Hydra split herself into four fearsome beings which scattered, each beast guarding one relic."

  "Oh, man," Anya said. "If Hydra's the guard, you boys are in trouble. She's a whack job, for sure. Two heads on one snakelike body—make that eight heads on four bodies, if Lucien's vision is accurate—and all those heads suffer from constant PMS."

  "Each serpent was to hide for eternity, never revealing her location again, even to the gods," Lucien continued.

  Strider grunted. "How does this help us, then?"

  Amateurs. "Do you see any symbols?" Anya prompted Lucien.

  Pause. Frown. "Yes."

  "Well, what are they? Zeus might not have wanted the other gods to know their location, but he would have made damn sure he could at least be pointed in the right direction if he so desired. In his glory days, when he stole whatever he wanted from whichever god he happened to want it from—it's the one thing I ever admired about him—he would hide them until the heat died down by using vision-symbols as treasure maps. He spelled them to change if the item was somehow moved."

  Lucien didn't turn to her, but he did say, "You told us he told Cronus what had happened to them. You told us Cronus looked, but didn't find them."

  "Hello. Does that mean Zeus told the truth? They're enemies, remember? Just tell me about the symbols already!"

  Lucien pressed his gorgeous lips together, refusing to answer.

  "Fine. Don't tell me. I'll just leave the area and give you a chance to tell your boys. I totally will not remain here, invisible and eavesdropping." She grinned at him, waiting.

  He growled low in his throat.

  "Seriously, you know I'll find out eventually so stop wasting time. Besides, I'll save you a lot of steps trying to figure it out on your own. You need my help. Again. Admit it."

  "Fine. We need your help." He worried two fingers over his jaw, the picture of pique. "The first symbol has two lines edging down with a curved line weaving them together."

  "South Africa," she said without hesitation.

  "How do you know that?" Paris said, looking more strained than before. He'd sidled next to her and now pinched her butt.

  She slapped his hand and stepped away. "I'm smarter than you," she told him smugly. "That's how I know."

  Paris gripped her wrist almost desperately. What he meant to do with her she wasn't sure. He'd—Lucien moved between them, ripping them apart.

  Lucien was snarling at the warrior.

  "Fine." Paris sighed and backed away. "I get the message. No touchie." He stopped, looked down at his waist. "Shit! My blade is gone."

  The other Lords looked from Lucien to her, from her to Lucien, as if needing direction.

  "What?" she finally demanded. "You think I took it?"

  "Mine is missing, too," Strider said with a grin, "but you can keep it. Think of me when you use it."

  The grin surprised her, and she found herself smiling in return. Until Lucien snarled at him, too. She rolled her eyes, though she was secretly pleased.

  "Get back to work, big boy," she said. "I know how you hate distractions."

  Thankfully, the snarling ceased. "The second symbol," Lucien said, once again drawing everyone's attention to the wall, "is a single, jagged line."

  "That's the Arctic. Ah," she added, placing her hand over her heart. "Those icy climes are bound to bring back memories of our first date. The one where you took a nice, refreshing dip and I watched from the glacier. Remember?" She didn't give him a chance to respond. "Maybe this is a sign we're meant to be BF's forever and ever. Is this a great moment for a huggsie, do you think?"

  His lips pulled taut. "The third is a horizontal, curved line with a similar line growing out of it."

  She'd take that for a no. "That's the States."

  "The last is a straight line that curves at the bottom, almost like the end of a machete."

  "Egypt," she said. Then she grinned and clapped her hands. "You know what this means, don't you? More traveling, and more treasure hunting! Where are we going first? Huh, huh, huh?"

  "How do you know those locations?" Lucien asked, repeating Paris's question as he finally faced her. His eyes were still shrouded in that otherworldly blue.

  "Maybe Zeus went around telling everyone about them and what they meant."

  "How do you know?" he insisted.

  Her mother had been Zeus's lover at the time and had overheard a little state business, but that little gem wasn't something she liked to shout from the rooftops. "I told you. I'm smart."

  "And how do we know we can trust you?" Paris asked, hands on his hips.

  "Duh. You totally can't. But you need me, so I guess that plants you right between a rock and a very naughty hard place."

  Lucien grabbed her arm and squeezed, forcing her to face him. "You are not going with us, Anya. Remove the thought from your mind now."

  Oh, really? "Try and stop me. I dare you."

  "You know I can. Stop you, that is."

  She arched a brow, her confidence unshaken. "Do I? I'm still standing here, alive and well, aren't I?"

  Was it her imagination, or did steam rise from his nostrils, smelling of hellsmoke? Just then, he was like her own personal demonic dragon. Sweet! She could practically see the wheels turning frantically in his head as he tried to calm himself down. He was beyond sexy when he was on edge. "Admit it. You wouldn't have known what the symbols meant without me. You need me."

  "You could be lying," he said, once again echoing Paris's suspicions.

  "Waste time researching, then. What do I care? I can find the Hydras while you sit at a computer. I'll gather the artifacts and locate the box, and I'll do it before you and your Testosterone Squad have even booked a flight."

  All four warriors growled at her.

  "What? Touchy subject?" she asked them, all innocence.

  "We're splitting up," Lucien said, not looking away from Anya. "Paris, you and Gideon will travel to the States."

  Paris glowered up at the sky. "Ah, man. Why am I stuck with Lies?"

  "Biggest land mass, most people. It will be better to have two warriors searching there," he explained. "Strider, you will go to South Africa. Amun, to Egypt." He stared over at Anya. "I will head to the Arctic."

  "You might want to wear a coat," Anya suggested helpfully.

  Lucien's eyes narrowed. She barely resisted the urge to blow him a kiss.

  "I'll ring Sabin's cell," Strider said, "and tell him what we've found. Who knows? Maybe he'll discover something more at the Roman temple."

  "Do you know anything about that location, Anya?" Lucien asked.

  "Only that it was called the Temple of the Unspoken Ones."

  "Unspoken Ones? I've heard of them," Gideon said.

  Which of course meant that he hadn't. Just thinking about the temple caused her to shudder. "Parents used to threaten their unruly children with banishment to that doomed place. Maybe because screams could always be heard echoing from the walls."

  "Who are the Unspoken Ones?"

  "I never saw them. I kept my distance. And as the
name proclaims, they were rarely spoken about outside of the occasional parental threat."

  Lucien sighed. "Call Sabin if you wish," he said to Strider, "but I plan to flash to Rome and tell him in person. I'll scout the temple while I'm there. My blood acted as a catalyst here. Perhaps it will there, as well."

  Hope filled the air. They were closer to success than ever before, she knew.

  "Where should we begin looking when we reach our destinations?" Paris asked. "Right now, all I know is that I'm supposed to go to the States. As you said, that's a big damn place. With lots of women," he added as an afterthought. His lips lifted in a slow smile, the strain on his face seeming to ease at just the prospect of fresh meat.

  "Where should they look?" Lucien demanded of Anya.

  Again, everyone turned to her.

  They wanted her help, then they didn't, then they wanted it again. "What? I'm just a dumb, annoying minor goddess. Not needed. Not wanted. Not—"

  "You can go with me," Lucien snapped.

  Ah, such enthusiasm. Irritated, she ran her tongue over her teeth. Still, his demands and growls were better than all those weeks of implacable composure. Huh. Maybe she should push him a little more. "Sorry. What'd you say?" She cupped a hand over her ear. "I couldn't hear you."

  "You can go with me," he repeated loudly. Darkly.

  Now she crossed her arms over her chest. Keep pushing like this, and he just might jump you. Please, please, please.

  "Are you going to try to kill me?"

  "You know I must, but I will give you fair warning before I do."

  She hadn't wanted him to stop, anyway. "Fair enough." Could this day have gone any better? Soon she would be traveling alone with him, probably fighting with him. The prospect shouldn't have thrilled her, but it did. She wanted a chance to nurture the desire she'd seen in him earlier, dangerous though that was. "I accept."

  "Where should we look?" Paris repeated.

  "I don't have all the answers, you know." This kept up, and soon the men would only respect her for her mind. Ugh.

  "Anya," Lucien warned.

  "What? I don't! Just have Ashlyn follow any rumors about giant, ugly monsters. That'll probably be Hydra. Oh, and she likes water. So maybe follow rumors about giant ugly monsters spotted near water."

  The men nodded, and she was once more forgotten as they chatted amongst themselves about what supplies they would need, when they would leave and blah, blah, blah.

  Anya sidled up to Lucien and ran her fingertip down his sternum. "We're going to have fun, you and I."

  He had been telling Strider what he knew of South Africa, but his words quickly died. Eyes blazing, he whipped to her. What he meant to say or do, she might never know. She blew him a kiss and disappeared.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AS HE SHOPPED FOR PROVISIONS he would need for his upcoming trip—intermittently collecting eighteen souls and escorting them to their final resting place—Lucien did not feel Anya's burning gaze on him. Nor did he smell her enticing strawberry scent.

  Where was she? What was she doing?

  Who was she doing it with?

  His hands balled, knuckles throbbing, the joints so stiff they felt brittle.

  He missed her more than ever. He had gotten used to her presence; nothing felt right when she was gone. Besides, he worried about her. Had Cronus tired of Lucien's halfhearted attempts to slay her and taken it upon himself to destroy Anya?

  Now his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. She is fine. Cronus had been unable to kill her, which was why he'd given the task to Lucien. Anya was safe from the god king.

  But time is ticking…

  Lucien expected the bastard to arrive at any moment and punish him for his failure. Punishment was beginning to matter less and less, however.

  He wanted to spend more time with her, and he was about to get his wish. Too bad they weren't heading for Hawaii. But Lucien had known Anya would follow him wherever he chose, so he'd picked the Arctic, the one place he'd thought—hoped—would cool his desire.

  Because more than missing her, he desired her. Badly.

  He was becoming obsessed with her. Lately all he could think about was stripping her. Licking between her legs, pleasuring her in every way imaginable and even some that weren't. Watching her face while she climaxed. Fisting her hair while she sucked his cock. Lately? Ha!

  Even now, he trembled. Trembled like a damned mortal.

  His long-neglected body practically sobbed for Anya each time she approached him. Forcing himself to walk away grew more and more difficult. And forcing himself to discourage her advances was even more so.

  Stop thinking, finish shopping, he commanded himself as he stalked down the city's paved streets. He'd flashed from the island to Athens, and sunlight shone brightly. Last time he'd been here, all those centuries ago, dead bodies had littered the street and blood had flowed like crimson rivers.

  He pushed the image to the back of his mind. The air was crisp and salty. He needed to enjoy this mild weather while he could. All too soon he'd feel the icy blast of the Arctic. With Anya.

  Damn this! What would it take to exorcise her from his head completely?

  Determined, Lucien made a mental checklist of everything he needed. A coat. Boots. Thermals. Thick socks. And gloves. He would have flashed to Buda and collected everything there, but the items he owned were meant for manageable winters. The Arctic was another story. He'd have to endure freezing winds and snow as far as the eye could see. Perhaps luck would be on his side and he would find Hydra quickly. He placed a call to Maddox and had him ask Torin to search any possible sightings.

  What was Anya doing?

  He didn't even try to stop the thoughts this time. Obviously, fighting did no good. Anya. In the Arctic. Alone with him. Perhaps finding Hydra quickly would not be such a wonderful thing.

  Last time he and Anya had been together in the cold, she'd pushed him into the icy water. The memory shouldn't have made him smile, but it did. Anya, standing on that glacier, waiting for him, then shoving him with all of her strength, had been a beautiful if macabre sight. Even his testicles had frozen.

  She had laughed, a tinkling sound of genuine amusement. Heady and seductive. He wanted to hear it again.

  Gods, he admired her courage and her tenacity. Anyone else would have cowered at having Death hunt them.

  Where was she? he wondered again. Had she finally tired of him?

  As he passed a corner shop, he slammed his fists into the wall. Stone abraded skin. Whether Anya was tired of him or not, he would soon have her to himself, away from the other warriors. Hopefully he would learn more from her. Hopefully he would prevent her from learning more from him.

  Hopefully he would better do his duty.

  His clipped steps slowed, and he forced himself to take in the sights. Emerald trees framed most of the buildings, stretching overhead and casting shadows. There were no cars on the streets—those were prohibited—so people had to walk to their destinations.

  Merchants were out in force, selling everything from fruit and vegetables to flimsy scarves to doorknobs. None of which would keep him warm in the Arctic.

  "You'll never find what you need here," Anya said, suddenly keeping pace beside him.

  His blood instantly heated as he glanced around, making sure no one had witnessed her sudden appearance. The only people staring at her were men, and he didn't know if they were shocked or simply captivated.

  She was lovelier than ever.

  Her pale hair was knotted at the base of her neck in an intricate braid and a pink ribbon circled over her ears. She wore a fur-trimmed coat and knee-high boots with a matching trim of fur.

  "Where have you been?" he asked, the question harsher than he'd meant it to be. Finally she was with him, and that should have been all that mattered. She's where she belongs, his mind added, and he frowned. When she's by my side, I can keep her out of trouble. Nothing more.

  "Oh," she said, waving a hand through the air. "H
ere and there."

  Had she been with another man? His jaw clenched. Best not to allow his mind to travel that route, so he changed the subject. "Why are you dressed like that?" He wore a black linen T-shirt and slacks, and he was sweating.

  "'Cause we're going to Switzerland, silly, and it's cold there. You, my friend, are way underdressed."

  "Anya, I—"

  "There's only one hour's time difference," she said, cutting him off, "so this is the perfect time to go shopping in Zürich."

  He sighed. "Why must we go to Zürich to shop?" We. Damn the thought! He needed to think of them separately. Never as a pair. Too dangerous.

  "Because it's snowy and I look good in white. Race you there!"

  She disappeared, leaving a trace of her strawberry scent. Bereft without her, Lucien scanned the crowd a second time. Several people had noticed her disappearance, he knew for a fact, because several jaws were dropped.

  The citizens of Budapest knew he and the others were different, if not to what extent, and for the most part left them alone. Protected them, even. Perhaps because the warriors poured so much money into the community. Perhaps because the people were afraid of what would happen if they didn't.

  Still. Since leaving ancient Greece and the destruction he'd caused, he had been very careful not to let mortals see his abilities. He did not want rumors of his presence circling. He did not want the human media chasing him and the others, and he certainly did not want more Hunters after him.

  But despite all this, he did not try to explain what had happened to Anya. He, too, simply disappeared. Hopefully the witnesses would assume they'd imagined the entire episode. There was a compulsion inside him to be with Anya. He couldn't wait a second more. His heart had not slowed down since her arrival.

  He felt more on edge with her than with anyone else in the world. He lost his legendary calm—not that he had erupted in her presence, thank the gods—and he had no business strengthening any ties between them when he had been ordered to kill her. And yet, he could not seem to help himself.

  Her lighted trail did indeed lead to Zürich. 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.