The Darkest Lie lotu-7 Page 4

  "Well?" she demanded. "Why are you just standing there? Get moving."

  Gideon's lips did that adorable twitching thing again. Trying not to grin? Odd man. Anyone else would have stomped away in irritation. Or threatened to stab her for such a haughty, commanding tone.

  "Whatever you desire, my sweet."

  Which meant he'd be doing nothing. She'd figured. He'd always been stubborn and had never taken orders well, and that was something she used to like about him. Still. She couldn't leave him feeling satisfied with the conversation.

  Satisfaction belonged only to her.

  Which meant it was time to throw him for another loop.

  As she strolled to the bathroom, stripping along the way, she said over her shoulder, "Oh, and, Gid. I've been lying to you all along. We were never married."

  DAMN IT, damn it, damn it! Gideon still couldn't detect when Scarlet lied, and that was really starting to annoy him. For some reason, every word out of her lovely lips still caressed his ears, and worse, that audible stroke was spreading to his entire body. How?

  Fact: truth usually made his demon hiss. Fact: lies usually made the demon purr. With Scarlet Pattinson—he nearly punched a hole in the wall of the hotel room as Strider had done at the fortress as his annoyance escalated—it picked up only on her raspy voice, too lost in pleasure to care about truth or lie.

  He was going to have to stop that. Otherwise, he might never get his answers.

  Leave her, Lies demanded.

  Go get her? Hardly. I like my balls where they are, thanks. The kind of woman who would punch you for trying to kiss her awake would knee your testicles into your throat for peeking at her naked curves while she washed.

  Naked...curves... Hello, hard-on.

  The bathroom door clicked shut, blocking every last inch of her from his sight. Bad, uh, good thing, too. She'd been down to her bra and panties. Black, both of them. With lace. The bra had clasped in the front, just asking to be separated. That testicle ascension might be worth it, he thought, already striding forward.

  His mouth watered, a lick of flame dancing over his body, heating his blood to scalding. Somehow, he stopped himself before hitting the door. Show some restraint, for gods' sake. It was just, holy hell, she was beautiful. Like a portrait come to life, all pale, rose-dusted skin and a fall of silky black hair. All dangerous curves and lean muscle, two things that didn't normally go well together. On her, however, they did. And exquisitely so.

  Exquisite. The perfect word for her back and its tattooed canvas. Around her waist were the words TO PART IS TO DIE, and around the words were flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. Flowers of every color, shape and type, and he wanted to trace each of them with his tongue. Below the blooms, on her thighs, was a butterfly tattoo laced with all the jewel tones of a rainbow, glitter-bright and caught midflight, as if heading into those flowers. Ex-qui-site.

  That wasn't what had caught the bulk of his attention, though. TO PART IS TO DIE. He'd had those very words and the flowers surrounding them tattooed around his own waist. Why had he done something so girly? That's what all his friends had wanted to know after laughing their asses off at his expense. He'd told them he'd wanted to prove that nothing could lessen his appeal.

  The truth was he'd done it because he'd seen those words and flowers in his mind, over and over again. They'd plagued him, and he'd known, known they meant something, but not what they meant. Now he knew he'd seen them on this woman. Which meant whether they were married or not, they had spent time together.

  Why can't I fucking remember it?

  I know, Lies replied, as if he'd asked the demon.

  Shut up. I like you better when you're quiet.

  The sound of water hitting porcelain suddenly reverberated through the hotel room. Scarlet was probably naked now, he thought. Probably soaked in that water and moaning as it slid down her luscious body.

  He moaned, scrubbing a hand down his face and hoping to wipe away the naughty images flashing through his head. Didn't help. He closed the rest of the distance, arm extending for the knob. Goodbye, testicles. We had a good run.

  Just as before, he caught himself in time. He growled, backed away and planted his feet more firmly in place. No, no, and no.

  At least he didn't have to worry about her escaping. Not successfully. While she'd slept, he'd placed tiny sensors on all the doors and windows and wired them to his phone. He'd know the moment she tried to leave. And she would. Soon. She wouldn't be able to help herself. Fighting was clearly part of her nature.

  So was annoying him.

  How was he supposed to handle a woman who picked her last name based on who she was currently lusting after? Which was fine when she was lusting after other females. Sexy, even. Something to be encouraged, too. But the males? Hells. No. Not if there was a chance they were hitched, and not until they had things settled between them.

  Still. He knew how he wanted to handle her. Skin-to-skin. Every part of him longed to step into that shower, lick her all over, tasting her. Then, oh, yes, then, he'd sink deep inside her, feel her tug his hair and scratch his back. Feel her legs wrap around him and hold on tight. Hear her gasp his name and beg him for more.

  Mini Me, his most beloved appendage, started weeping, and the twins begging, uncaring about potential loss.

  Not gonna happen, men. Not yet, at least. She'd resisted him more intensely than he'd expected. Not that he'd tried very hard. Hard. Ha. But maybe that was a good thing. As Strider had reminded him, Hunters were in Budapest and out for blood. Now that they could kill the Lords and pair the demons with people of their choosing, now that the Lords were close to victory, the Hunters were more determined and vicious than ever. If Gideon seduced Scarlet, he would forget about guarding her.

  He could have taken her to another city, he supposed, and seduced her there. That would have been safer. But, no. He couldn't leave his friends like that. They needed him more than ever. Maddox was consumed with easing his pregnant wife; Lucien's girlfriend was planning their wedding; Sabin's wife was visiting her sister in the heavens, so the warlord was pretty much operating on a hair-trigger of emotion; and Reyes's woman had enough shit to deal with. As the All-Seeing Eye, she could peer into heaven and hell, and the things she saw were often far worse than anything Scarlet could manufacture in her dream-world.

  Not to mention, Aeron, until recently the keeper of Wrath, was still recovering from his interlude with death. For the first time in centuries, his mind was his own, his demon no longer a part of him. As expected, he hadn't yet acclimated to the change.

  Gideon wasn't envious as some of the warriors were. He actually liked his other, darker half. Together, they were more powerful. Together, they were stronger, smarter, and no one but Scarlet could lie to him. Okay, fine. A few others could, but only when he let his emotions get the better of him. Which wasn't often.

  But speaking of being unable to tell truth from lies...I've been lying to you all along. We were never married, Scarlet had said.

  Damn her and her seductive wiles. Were they or weren't they? He had those flashes of her, yes, as if he had taken her to bed before. As if he had savored every inch of her and had already done all the things he now wanted to do. But those could very well be urges he'd had, mere fantasies, rather than reality.

  Gideon sighed and strode to the bed where Scarlet had lain. He lifted the sheets and pressed the still-warm cotton to his cheek, the scent of midnight orchids wafting to his nose. Had he experienced this warmth skin-to-skin? Did he know that scent?

  Scowling, he dropped the sheet as his cock wept a little more. Get out of here before you forget your good intentions and storm into that bathroom.

  His demon liked the thought of storming. Don't enter the bathroom. Don't enter the bathroom right now!

  Seriously. Shut it. Even though Gideon had told Scarlet in his roundabout, deceitful way that he wouldn't be fetching her any food, which he'd meant at the time, he left and locked the room, rode the elevator downstai
rs, wrote out what food he wanted, then handed the receptionist the note.

  Lies prowled angrily through his head the entire time, hating the distance from Scarlet. Completely surreal.

  The receptionist smiled and began typing. "Give us an hour, Mr. Lord." He almost corrected her and said Pattinson. Anything to connect him to Scarlet. Instead he nodded and returned to the room. Scarlet was hungry. Therefore he would feed her. Wife or not. Because bottom line, he still had questions for her and she still had answers.

  How he proceeded after this, as caveman or seducer, would be up to her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HAD SHE EVER felt this fantastically clean? Scarlet marveled as she brushed her hair.

  Gods, this was nice. Not a speck of dirt marred her. She now smelled of the same apples-and-vanilla fragrance that coated the air, along with the usual floral scent that coated her skin. Courtesy of her father? She'd always wondered.

  Her sore muscles felt revived, her spirits restored. Well, kind of. Why was she still here? Why wasn't she running, as she'd promised Gideon she would?

  Nightmares didn't reply, the water having lulled the demon into a peaceful sleep.

  Didn't matter. She already knew the answer. Gideon still intrigued her.

  How many times do you need to be told? You can't let yourself develop feelings for him again.

  Easy to think. Hard to actually prevent. Gideon had seen to everything. He'd placed a toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush on the sink. Oh, yeah. And a freaking blue bow for her hair. Clean clothes had rested on the toilet lid, though they weren't what she would have chosen for herself. He'd picked a flowing, barely there blue dress rather than pants and a T-shirt. High heels rather than boots. He hadn't given her a bra. Just blue panties.

  Clearly, he had a fascination with blue. Why?

  She should know, and hated that she didn't. Was this a recent development?

  Wasn't like it mattered, she told herself next. His thoughts and reasoning weren't her concern.

  "I'm so happy waiting for you," he called through the door.

  The sound of that rumbling voice caused goose bumps to break out over her entire body. She imagined him pacing back and forth in front of the door, and she wanted to grin. Patience had never been his thing. She'd always liked that, mostly because he'd been so eager to be with her.

  He used to rush to her cell after every mission, kiss her face, hands roving, desperate to relearn her curves.

  "I missed you so much," he'd said. Every damn time.

  "Don't leave me again." Always her reply.

  "I'd stay in this cell with you if I could." A fleeting, sad smile, offered the very last time they'd had this exchange. "Maybe one day I will."

  "No." She hadn't wanted that for him, no matter how much she craved being with him. "Just...make me forget you were ever gone."

  And he had. Oh, had he.

  If he could have removed the collar that had been permanently anchored around her neck, he'd always said, he would have done so and run away with her. But he hadn't possessed the ability. Only a few of Zeus's chosen had. So the golden collar had remained, seemingly glued to her skin and keeping her weakened, her demon's powers muted.

  Besides, only a select group of immortals were able to flash—to travel from one location to another with only a thought—in and out of Tartarus, and Gideon hadn't been one of them. He would have had to sneak her through the entire realm, past the guards and to the gate. One, on its own, would have been difficult; together, they were impossible, even without the collar. But he'd still wanted to try.

  With the thought, she felt herself softening. Damn it! Fight it. You can't survive another heartbreak, and that's all he has to offer. Heartbreak.

  She dropped the brush on the sink and as it clattered ominously, tugged the dress over her head. The soft material stroked her skin, and she moaned. She'd never dressed herself this way, but maybe she should have. So decadent... The panties were equally soft, which elicited another moan. The heels, she left alone, donning her old boots instead. Better to beat a heartless man into submission with.

  Finished, she turned, shoulders squaring, determination rising. One last encounter with Gideon, and then she was ditching him. But that was it, the end. She'd finally have closure. For surely that's what she needed, what she lacked. Once she had it, she would return to the life she'd begun building for herself. A life as a human mercenary. Or rather, a jack of all wicked trades.

  Do it. Get it over with.

  "Are you kidding me with this?" she said as she stomped from the bathroom and held out the bow. A cloud of sweetly scented steam followed her.

  Immediately his electric gaze raked her, lingering on his once-favorite places. Something dark entered his eyes, and he gulped. "What?" The word was a croak. "I thought it was ugly." Meaning he thought it was pretty.

  And he wanted her to have pretty things. How...sweet.

  Damn him!

  He stood in front of a wheeled square table that hadn't been there before, arms once again crossed over his chest. To keep from throttling her?

  "So you like women who dress like schoolgirls." She ignored the thundering of her heart and the heat spreading through her veins. "I didn't realize you had such innocent fantasies," she said, then wanted to curse. She'd sounded breathless. Maybe because her statement had raised a very naughty question. What did he fantasize about nowadays?

  How did he like his sex? As gentle and consuming as he once had?

  How did he like his women? As sweet as she'd once been? Most likely.

  He'd shown only a few signs of attraction to her since discovering her inside his dungeon, and she was as hard as stone.

  She had to be. Her life didn't allow for dresses like this one. She had to be prepared to fight, always. She was a child of Rhea, the god queen, and she would make an excellent hostage to ransom. Not that her mother would pay it. More than that, she had many enemies, for killing her would remove her half-mortal self from the line of succession.

  The scent of fresh baked bread, chicken and rice suddenly hit her nose and her mouth watered. Forget the bow. Forget closure. Her hand fell to her side. "You brought me food," she said, dazed.

  Another sweet gesture, the jerk.

  "Nope. It's all for me." He eased into the chair behind him. Steaming plate after steaming plate littered the surface of the table, that steam wafting around him and creating a dream haze. "That color looks terrible on you, by the way."

  She licked her lips. Over the food, she told herself. Not because he liked the way she looked. Which was good. "Payback is a bitch, you know. And you can count on the fact that I'll put you in this dress sometime soon."

  He shrugged, drawing attention to the wide girth of his shoulders, then held out one of the plates. The one with chicken, rice and veggies. She was walking to him, hands outstretched, before she realized what she was doing. After she claimed the plate, she plopped into the seat across from him and dug in.

  So. Good.

  "So...why don't you sleep during the day?" he asked. "When the people here aren't awake."

  That, she didn't mind sharing. Even though she could guess his plan. Start her off with something light. Get her talking while she was distracted with food. "Somewhere in the world, people are asleep when I am, and the demon finds them. Besides that, every day I fall asleep a single second later. And every night I awaken a single second later. The time always varies ever so slightly, ensuring we're able to target everyone at some point." In other words, fear us.

  "Not good to know." A pause, then, "I don't want to know why you got the tattoos. I don't want to know who gave you those tattoos. And I most definitely don't want to know how things ended between us."

  Yep. She'd been right. "I told you we weren't really married." She chased a deliciously flavored bite of buttered carrots with a glass of red wine. Even. Better.

  "And I believed you."

  She shrugged, mimicking his nonchalance. "I've answered enough of your
questions tonight. And I know that's why you brought me here. To relax me, lower my guard and find out everything you're dying to know so you can lock me back up." And worse.

  "You're wrong," he said, reaching out and cupping her hand with his own. He brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss into her suddenly burning flesh. "I just wanted to spend time with you, to get to know you, the world around us forgotten."

  Softening...again... They were words she'd longed to hear so badly she'd often ached physically. Hearing them now...

  And realizing they were a lie...

  The softening instantly ceased. Suddenly she wanted to remove the invisible knife he'd left in her back and stab him with it. Since he wasn't crumpling into a heap of pain, as she'd heard he did when he spoke the truth, she knew he'd just told a whopper.

  He was playing her, and she'd almost let him. Harden up. You're a bitch. Act like it.

  "That's easy for you, isn't it? Forgetting the world around you, I mean." Bitterness crept through her tone, and there was nothing she could do to defuse it. "Your poor, sad memory."

  He frowned, and his hand fell away.

  She wanted to shout. With frustration. With a demand that he touch her again. With fury that she wanted him to touch her again. Instead, she remained quiet and finished her meal, consuming every last crumb, every drop of wine, and leaving nothing for the man across from her.

  "Why are you so...not stubborn about this?" he asked with what seemed to be genuine curiosity. "About keeping me in the light?"

  Because she'd spent thousands of years wondering where he was, what he was doing and who he was doing it with. Wondering if he ever thought of her, wondering why he never returned for her. Wondering if he was even alive. Each day had been worse than the last, a constant churning in her mind, her emotions rolled out, flayed and left raw.

  But she'd known with gut-wrenching intensity that he loved her, so she'd finally had to accept that he hadn't returned because he'd been killed. Death was the only thing that could have kept him away. So she'd mourned him, crying so forcefully, so intensely, she'd actually shed tears of blood.