The Darkest Lie (Lords of the Underworld #6)(70)
Author: Gena Showalter

Up the stairs they climbed, dust pluming at their feet. The door was open. After only the briefest of pauses, they stepped into a wide foyer, where piles of bones rested in each corner. The floor was stained red with blood and sticky with things he didn’t want to contemplate.

Amun pulled from his friends’ clasps, determined to stand on his own. He wouldn’t hinder them any more than he already had. He was a warrior, damn it. He could do this.

“Be ready,” Aeron whispered, blades already in hand.

“Been ready,” William replied, gripping his own blades more tightly.

They’d already run out of bullets and had had to dispose of their guns.

Together, they stalked forward, straight ahead, Amun continually tripping over his own feet. But he did walk, and at the moment, that was all that mattered. Finally they reached a room, scalding orange-gold flames licking each of the walls and fanning heat in every direction.

His demon sighed. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, uttered the word home. Sickness reclaimed his stomach. Not home, he thought. Never home.

Focus. There, in the center of the room, was a dais built from brimstone and atop that brimstone was a throne of twisted, jagged metal and horns.

The prince of darkness reclined in it, calm, unfazed by his expected visitors.

“At last,” Lucifer said, sipping from a bejeweled goblet. He was well built, with black hair and orange-gold eyes. He would have had a handsome face, one females probably would have melted over, if not for the deadness of those eyes. They gave him away, revealed his evil for all to see. “You certainly took your time.”

“Where’s Legion?” Aeron demanded.

“What? No pleasantries? No ‘how are you doing, dearest master’?”

“Certainly,” William said evenly. “I’m doing well, thank you, reviled slave.”

Lucifer popped his jaw before nodding in greeting. “William. I was surprised to hear you had returned.”

“Just tell the man what he wants to know, and we’ll leave. Your blood won’t have to be spilled. I know, I know. You’re welcome.”

Amun concentrated all of his energy on the prince, linking with his mind, staying tuned to his thoughts. At first, there was nothing. Only silence. But Amun continued to push, to dig deeper, and must have finally penetrated some sort of barrier. All at once, an intense wave of hatred hit him. Hatred and fear, as Anya had predicted.

Mine, mine, mine. You will not take what’s mine.

“I’m sorry my minions treated you so shabbily,” Lucifer said. His tone was just as easy as it had been from the first, as if he wasn’t chanting in his head. “I will, of course, punish them. Though perhaps I’ll be more merciful than you used to be.”

A vein popped from William’s temple.

He was still closed off, and Amun didn’t have the strength to mentally reach him. Besides, that might have severed the link to the prince.

Lucifer’s head canted to the side, and he grinned, his attention shifting to Aeron. “There’s something different about you, Wrath.” Thoughtful, he tapped his chin. “No, no. I can’t call you that, can I? You are Wrath no longer. You are demon-free. Would you like to change that?”

“Either tell us where the girl is or fight us. You’re boring me, and I have things to do,” William said.

Lucifer’s attention returned to him, eyes narrowing. “Oh, yes. I know exactly what those things include. Seducing the lovely Gilly. Your desire for her grows daily, doesn’t it? Brother. And really, I’m surprised you didn’t stop and visit your Horsemen. They miss you so.”

Brother? Horsemen? The four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?

Aeron stiffened, shooting William a shocked and angered glance.

Lucifer laughed inside his head, utterly pleased with himself.

He’s trying to divide you, Amun signed, unsure Lucifer had meant what he’d said. Not about Gilly, and not about the Horsemen, Amun knew both were true, but about the familial connection. Unfortunately, neither warrior noticed him.

“He’s lying, of course,” William said smoothly. Or tried to. His voice trembled just a bit. “I’ve never touched Gilly, and I never will. I’m not into jailbait. And the horsey comment doesn’t deserve a response.”

One dark brow arched in smug amusement. “Whatever you say. Now, let’s begin with the night’s entertainment and rid you of your boredom. Shall we?” He clapped his hands, the sound echoing through the surrounding blaze.

To the left, two demon High Lords entered the room. If their grins were any indication, they’d been waiting eagerly for their summons. Between them was Legion, shoulders hunched, pale hair in bloody tangles around her head. She’d been stripped and chained, and there were welts along her thighs where she’d been whipped.

Knowing he couldn’t afford the distraction, Amun blocked her thoughts. But not before he caught a glimpse of them. Oh, the terrible things that had been done to her…so much worse than what the minion of Pain had shown him, for that creature had only witnessed portions of her torture.

She might never recover.

She was as cut and bruised as he was, and there was a desolation in her eyes that had never been there before. But when she caught sight of Aeron, she began to struggle, to scream, worried for him, hopeful for herself. “Aeron! Aeron!”

The demons held tightly, and Aeron tried to stalk forward, but William gripped his arm and held him in place.

“That’s what he wants.”

Lucifer was watching Aeron, eating up his reaction, loving the paleness of his skin, the grinding of his teeth. “Nothing to say, warrior?”

Aeron nodded. “You will die for this.”

“That’s it?”

Another stiff nod, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak again.

Amun felt the surge of disappointment that filled the prince. He’d wanted Aeron to rant and rave. But, no matter, Lucifer thought, and Amun almost pulled from the being’s mind. He retained the connection, sick to his stomach, churning with dread. Lucifer wasn’t going to be deterred. What he had planned was sure to drive Aeron to the brink of madness. Aeron, stupid Aeron, who had ruined his plans to possess Legion and destroy the Lords.

“Then let’s get started with the festivities,” Lucifer said smoothly. “Shall we?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

SCARLET WAS experiencing the five stages of grief. All at the same time. Denial—Gideon hadn’t been writhing in pain when she left him. Anger—her bitch of a mother had ignored her summons, over and over again, so she hadn’t made it back to the heavens to begin tracking Mnemosyne. Bargaining—Let Gideon finally win his war, she’d prayed to no one in particular, and I’ll forget about my revenge against my aunt. He’d be safe and Scarlet wouldn’t be a liability. Depression—she would never see the beautiful warrior again, she just knew it. Acceptance—she’d done the right thing, leaving him. He would be better off.