The Darkest Lie (Lords of the Underworld #6)(86)
Author: Gena Showalter

There were three deep grooves in her neck. One rode the length of her carotid, one her trachea and one the curve of her shoulder. Two were kill shots, even for immortals, and one was simply meant to prolong her agony. Inside, he wailed. “What—”

“Don’t know,” Kane said, silencing him. “She—”

“The goddess screwed with his memory,” Torin said, silencing Kane. “While he was busy gathering Scarlet in his arms, Mnemosyne reached between the bars and latched onto his ankle. She told him Scarlet was inside the cell and he needed to open it to get to her. So he did. She also told him there was no one else in the cell, so he paid no attention to the goddess as she darted out of the dungeon. I recorded everything. Oh, and good going, everyone.” He clapped, and somehow the action itself exuded sarcasm. “You did a great job of searching the bitch for weapons.”

Gideon should have killed her while he’d had the chance. He hadn’t, and now Scarlet…his Scarlet… Tears ruined what remained of his vision. He flattened a shaking palm over her heart. The beat was shallow, erratic and dangerously slow.

The cuts were still seeping, and if they weren’t closed soon, she would bleed out. Torin was a no-go as far as doctoring went. No way would Gideon allow his woman to be infected with the warrior’s disease, even though he’d once thought keeping her to himself would be nice. Yes, Torin could wear gloves to prevent skin-to-skin contact, but that was risky. And Gideon was unwilling to take the slightest chance. Weak as Scarlet was, the disease might actually kill her. If the slices didn’t.

Kane was a no-go, as well. The man could barely keep himself alive. Plaster loved to fall on him, and floors loved to collapse while he stood upon them. No way would Gideon allow the man to operate on Scarlet.

That left Gideon, weak and shaky as he was. There just wasn’t time to get her to a hospital.

“I don’t need a field kit,” he said. He’d stitched himself and his friends up a thousand times.

“You can’t—” Kane began.

“Not now!” he growled, every ounce of his impatience and worry ringing out.

Kane nodded and limped into action.

Gideon could hear Lies whimpering inside his head, chanting, Sweet dreams, sweet dreams, sweet dreams.

Gideon translated: Nightmares, Nightmares, Nightmares. He had to bite back a roar.

“You’re going to be okay, Scarlet,” he said. There wasn’t a renewed shock of pain, nor an increase in his lethargy. His mind and his demon viewed his words as a lie. “You’re going to be okay,” he repeated, tears falling freely now.

His hands trembled as he smoothed the hair and blood from her face. The action caused the muscles in his shoulders to knot, but he didn’t care. Pain was nothing in the face of this.

“You’re not in any shape to do this,” Torin said, grave.

Like there was another choice. To do nothing was to watch her die. And he would not watch her die. She was going to pull through, no matter what any of them believed.

Kane raced back inside the room, white streaked over his cheeks. Plaster must have fallen on him along the way, as Gideon had known it would.

“All yours.” Kane dropped the black leather pouch on the bed. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Shaking more intently, Gideon unrolled the material. He lifted the thread and the needle and the tiny scissors, then got to work. Took him forever to stitch a single slice, his eyes constantly fogging over, his grip weak, but he did it. Then he moved to the next one, and then the next one, until Scarlet was no longer bleeding.

But the fact was, she’d lost a lot of blood already and he didn’t have the equipment to do a transfusion. Which she needed. Desperately. And would have. So he’d just have to do it the old-fashioned way, he supposed.

Immortals had the same blood type, and didn’t have to worry about a negative reaction the way humans did. Scarlet was half-human, however, and he’d never transfused a half-human before. Only himself and the other Lords. Still, that wasn’t going to stop him. He grabbed the syringe from the pouch, jabbed himself in the crease of his elbow and withdrew as much life-giving fluid as the vial would hold. Then he stuck the needle into Scarlet’s arm, slowly pushing that fluid inside her.

If she later complained about sharing a needle, he’d spank her. After he hugged her. And made love to her. And hugged her again. They were immortal, as well as lovers. It’d be okay.

He repeated the process so many times he lost count. Repeated it until Kane grabbed hold of his wrist and said, “That’s enough. You’re draining yourself.”

True. He was weak. Weaker than he’d ever been. But if Scarlet needed more, he would give her more. Would give her every drop.

“There’s nothing else you can do, man,” Kane said, as grave as Torin. “Except wait. And pray.”

Sweet dreams, sweet dreams, sweet dreams.

Like hell there was nothing else he could do, Gideon thought darkly. There was something. He could summon Cronus.

SHADOWS and screams enveloped Scarlet, dragging her into a sea of darkness and screeching noise, and holding her captive. They were stronger than she was and trapped inside her, so they had no other outlet, no other way to feed. And they needed fear to feed. Lots and lots of fear.

Fear they would get from her.Horrific image after horrific image played through her mind and nearly all of them involved Gideon. Gideon with another woman and loving every moment of it. Gideon being beheaded by Galen. Gideon going after Mnemosyne to avenge Scarlet’s death and dying himself.

Scarlet attempted to insert herself into every scene and change the outcome, but that only made things worse. Gideon would laugh at her or go for her throat. And gods, did her throat hurt. She was having trouble breathing, and her limbs were heavy and cold. And she knew what she was imagining was wrong, things Gideon would never do, which added guilt into her riotous mix of emotions. She—

Blinked in surprise. A warm fire had ignited in her blood, and was traveling through her, leaving tiny pockets of energy. That energy grew and interlocked, until she was consumed by it. The darkness and the screams at last settled, and she slipped into a peaceful sleep.

How much time passed until she next became aware, she didn’t know.

“Devil! Can’t you hear me?” A rumbling male voice called to her from a long, dark tunnel. “Can’t you see me?”

Gideon. Gideon was near. She blinked open her stinging eyes, excitement pounding through her as his face came into blurry focus. Blurry, because screaming shadows were seeping from her and dancing around him.