The Darkest Lie (Lords of the Underworld #6)(67)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Goodbye, Gideon,” she said, then hesitated only a moment before walking away from him and out of his room.

No! No! Mine. Come back! Lies shouted, and that was the last thing Gideon knew.

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE OLD MATTRESS squeaked as the punked-out female thrashed atop it, lost in what was probably a bloody, violent nightmare. I’ll have to thank Gideon’s woman later, Strider thought, just in case she was responsible. And he didn’t feel bad for the lack of compassion.

He had studied his bounty while she’d slept. Every inch of her, even peeling back her clothes for a look at all the hidden places. Weapons could be stored anywhere. Some would say he had no scruples, and he would agree. He didn’t. Not with this woman. Never with this woman.He now knew who she was, and she didn’t deserve leniency from him. She deserved the sting of his blade.

There, lying on the small motel bed, locked with him in this tiny room, was Hadiee, the woman who had led Baden, keeper of Distrust, to his slaughter. She helped destroy my best friend!

The beheading had taken places thousands of years ago, and she’d been human. Or so he’d thought. Yet here she was, as young as she’d been back then. Which meant she was now immortal. Right? How it had happened, he didn’t know. But he would find out. He would be finding out a lot of things from the bitch.

It had taken him a few hours to place her, ’cause yeah, the tattoos, piercings and pink streaks in her hair had thrown him. She hadn’t looked like this back then. Her hair had been several shades lighter, a tumble of snowfall, and her skin glowing from the sun’s kiss. She’d dressed in the rough, conservative garb of a servant, but that hadn’t detracted from her prettiness.

He never would have placed her if not for the scoreboard tattooed on her back.

Lords: IIII Haidee: I

She’d split her back in two, one side for the Lords, one side for herself. He’d known exactly what the marks meant, too, because Baden had marked himself that way, as well. Bitch.

The four he and his friends had supposedly killed, he couldn’t name. And yeah, he’d probably slain them. In all his many centuries, he’d slain thousands. The knowledge of that should have dulled his anger toward this woman. It didn’t. Baden had been the best man Strider had ever known. The kindest to his friends, the most supportive and caring.

Being possessed by the demon of Distrust had changed him, of course, just as being possessed by such a dark force had changed all of them. But he’d been the first to come back to his senses. The one who had led everyone else to the light. He’d felt the guiltiest for the destruction the Lords had caused. He’d been the first to reach out, to try and make amends with humans.

He had also hated what he’d become more than any of the others. He’d hated that he distrusted himself, everyone around him, even his friends. Especially his friends. But that had only made Strider love him more. Baden had been Strider’s salvation. Strider had wanted to be Baden’s salvation.

Hadiee had destroyed that chance.

As the girl continued to thrash, eyes squeezed shut, sweat beading over her skin, arms and legs jerking at their ties, her cell phone rang. Strider grinned. He’d been hoping this would happen and didn’t have to guess who was calling. The boyfriend. The leader of the Hunters who had been chasing him.

Strider reached out, swooped the cell from its perch on the table beside him and flipped it open. “Sorry,” he said into the mouthpiece, “but your girlfriend’s a little tied up right now and can’t come to the phone.”

There was a pause. A ragged breath and crackling static. “She’s mine, you sick bastard! If you hurt her…”

Oh, yes. The boyfriend. “If?” Strider laughed with genuine amusement. “That’s cute. Really it is.”

Now there was a roar. “Which piece of evil shit are you?”

“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that this evil shit has your woman. And he isn’t giving her back. Not unless it’s in pieces.”

More of that static crackled over the line, followed quickly by a loud boom, a curse. Loverboy must have punched the wall. “What do you want with her? What will you trade?”

“One thousand Hunter hearts. Oh, wait. Hunters don’t have hearts. So I guess there’s nothing I’m willing to trade for her.”

“You dirty, filthy—” The human stopped himself, as if only then realizing Strider could punish his woman for everything he said. “She’s a good person. She has a family. She—”

Anger blasted through him. “I’m a good person. I have a family.” He could just imagine how the Hunter was gritting his teeth at that. “And yet she would have taken my head without hesitation. It’s only fair that I reciprocate.”

“You aren’t good, and you know it. You’re selfish and dark and ruined. You belong in hell.”

Selfish? Dark? Yeah, no question. But ruined? Hardly. “I’ve done nothing but try to protect myself for thousands of years.”

“And in that protecting—” the Hunter sneered “—you’ve killed my friends.”

“Just as your woman killed mine.” Now it was Strider’s turn to punch something. He slammed a fist into the side table, splitting the wood. Boom!

A feminine gasp had his gaze moving back to his charge. He stilled. She’d stopped thrashing, was staring over at him through blazing gray eyes. “And believe me,” he added calmly, “she will pay for that.”

No reaction from Hadiee.

Her boyfriend, however, exploded. “She hasn’t killed anyone! But I have. Trade her for me.”

Did he not know her history? It seemed unlikely that the one person who’d succeeded in killing a Lord of the Underworld wouldn’t have become the stuff of legend among her cohorts. “No, thanks,” Strider said. “I like the hostage I’ve got.”

The Hunter’s fury overtook him, obliterating his common sense. “I will find you and I will kill you, you motherfucking son of a bitch!”

Slowly he grinned. “Now that sounds like a challenge. Good news is, I accept.” Inside his head, his demon jumped up and down with excitement. “Find me and we’ll have a little party.”

Without removing his gaze from the girl, Strider closed the phone, reveling in the fact that he’d had the last word. He stood. Hadiee’s murderous expression didn’t change as he walked to the bathroom. He knew phones could be traced and tracked and wasn’t going to allow that to happen here. Whistling, he crushed the plastic and wires into as many pieces as he could and flushed them down the toilet.