The Darkest Lie (Lords of the Underworld #6)(31)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Lucifer is afraid of you, Willy. In hell, you’ll be able to do things and go places Aeron and Amun can’t.”

For a moment, William’s mind opened, gearing up to recall exactly why Lucifer feared him. But then he shut down the memory, which meant that Amun couldn’t read it, not without digging, and that still wasn’t something Amun wanted to do.

“Again,” William said with a shrug. “Don’t care.”

Just as stubborn, Anya persisted. “William, think about what you’re turning down. When you’re with Gilly’s family, you won’t know what they’re thinking, what they fear, what other terrible things they’ve done. But Amun will. He can tell you. And you can do more than hurt and kill them. You can terrorize them.”

Gilly tossed her hands in the air. “Will someone please speak in English and tell me what’s going on? Someone? Please?”

“No,” Anya and William said in unison.

“God! You guys are so lame. You want to act like I’m not here? Fine. I’ll do you one better. I’ll leave. I don’t know why I hang around you, anyway.” With that, Gilly flounced out of the room.

Scowling, William jabbed one of his sticks through his drums. “Fine. Count me in, Amun. I’ll go to hell with you and Aeron. Afterward, you’ll help me deliver hell to my humans. Got it?”

For better or worse, Amun nodded.

CHAPTER NINE

WHEN SCARLET sat up and opened her eyes to a brand-new evening, she had no idea what to expect. After her “we had a son” bombshell, Gideon had basically gone into shock. He’d been silent, withdrawn, and she hadn’t forced a confrontation because she’d wanted him to have time to absorb the astonishing news.

Before he could do so, however, the sun had risen and she’d fallen asleep, lost to her demon. She’d been too distracted to participate in their usual terror games and didn’t even know who they’d targeted.“Were you lying? Don’t tell me!”

The words whipped at her, and she quickly focused. Gideon hadn’t moved her from the forest. Trees still surrounded her, birds and insects still sang. The spring still bubbled, and mist still wafted. There was no waning sunlight, no violet sky, only a thick blanket of dark, heavy clouds. A storm was brewing.

In more ways than one.

Gideon was bathed in shadows. Shadows her gaze had no trouble penetrating. His blue locks were wet and plastered to his brow, his cheeks, yet were still a gorgeous frame for the upsetting lines of tension that spread from his temples to his mouth. His eyes were like lasers, boring past the mental shields she surrounded herself with. His expression was tight, fierce, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a scowl.

He stood in front of her, a dagger in each hand.

Breath suddenly trapped in her throat, she swept her gaze over her body. There were no cuts on her arms or legs, and her dress was in one piece. There wasn’t a single spot of blood to indicate he’d injured her.

Okay. So. He hadn’t attacked her in fury. Did that mean he could get away without saying, “Who aren’t you today?” Did that mean he could get away with not kissing her awake?

Gods, his kiss. She reached up and traced her fingertips over her mouth. A mouth that still tingled. His tongue had plundered and taken and given. Taken so much passion. Given so much pleasure. His hands had been everywhere, touching her, learning her. And his body, so hard and hot against hers, had transported her back to the heavens. Locked up, helpless still, but uncaring because she had her man. A man who loved her.

It had been so long since she’d given in to the demands of her body. So long since she’d lost control. Gideon hadn’t seemed to mind that loss. No, he’d seemed to enjoy it. He’d come on her belly and marked her as if they still belonged together.

Afterward, she’d wanted to cuddle up to his side. She’d wanted to kiss his neck and breathe in his musky scent. She’d wanted to spill every secret, talk about everything they’d once shared.

But she knew him, knew this man who had no clue about what she’d once meant to him. And she’d known beyond any doubt that that’s what he had planned. He’d taken her from prison into paradise, simply for answers. Answers he would attempt to unearth through fair means or foul.

He’d always been that way. When determination set in, Gideon was more stubborn than she was. It was as annoying as it was wonderful. For once he’d decided that she was to be his bride, he’d moved heaven and earth to make it happen. Despite the odds against them.

She wouldn’t be used in that way, however. She wouldn’t let him think he could f**k her—or almost f**k her—and get his way.

“Scar. You’re not pissing me the hell off. Don’t pay attention to me.” He tossed one of the daggers with a lethal flick of his wrist. “Don’t tell me what I don’t want to know.”

Scarlet whipped around, following the movement of the blade. The tip was now embedded in the tree trunk, vibrating. And there were hundreds of grooves in the bark. He’d been tossing that thing all day, it seemed.

“No,” she said softly, facing him again. “I wasn’t lying.” Steel was not something she would lie about. Ever. For any reason. He had been—was still—the most important person in her life.

A ragged breath left Gideon. “You didn’t say was. His name was. That means he’s…he’s…”

“He’s dead,” she whispered hoarsely. “Yes.”

Absolute agony contorted Gideon’s features. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him about the boy. Sometimes she wished she didn’t know; it was just too painful. But part of her had thought, hoped, that Gideon would have retained knowledge about his own child. Knowledge that might have led to memories of his wife.

“All of it. I don’t want to know all of it.” As he spoke, he sank to his knees, the knuckles wrapped around the second blade leaching of color. “Please.”

Seeing such a strong warrior reduced to such bleakness tore at her, and she had to blink back a rush of stinging tears. If she told him now, it wouldn’t be because of sex. It would be because he’d begged. At least, that’s how she rationalized this new need to share. Everything.

“All right, yes,” she said, no less hoarse as her harsh, jagged breath scraped against her chest cavity. “I’ll tell. Tell you everything about his life and his death, but you can’t speak. If you interrupt me with questions I may not be able to continue.” Emotion would choke her. She would break down, sob, and no way would she allow Gideon to see her like that. This was going to be hard enough. “Got me?”