The Darkest Passion (Lords of the Underworld #5)(71)
Author: Gena Showalter

As she caressed her hand down Aeron’s chest, she closed her eyes. “Dear Heavenly Deity. I come to You now, as a humble servant who loves You. This man, he isn’t evil, despite the evil inside him. He’s kind. He’s considerate. He’s capable of great affection and boundless loyalty. Those are the very things You value most. He’s to die, I know. But not now. Not like this. You, who can work all things, even the worst of things, to our good, can heal him, making him ever stronger. You, who long ago conquered death, can save him.”

Please hear me. Please help me.

“Why are you doing this to yourself, Olivia? He’s going to die eventually, anyway.”

Lysander. That was even faster than she’d hoped. Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you!

The voice—Temptation, she was going to call him—screeched in frustration. Not him. Anyone but him. I can’t stand that bastard.

“Then leave,” she snapped, a suspicion blooming. Temptation clearly hated her mentor, an angel, and the only beings to hate angels were demons.

That meant Temptation was a demon.

I will. So for now, later, baby.

When this demon returned, and he would, she had no doubt, she would have to be better guarded.

“Olivia?” Lysander said.

She opened her eyes a crack. Sure enough, her mentor stood off to the side. Tall, imposing, pulsing with power. His golden wings arched over his shoulders, and his robe swayed at his ankles.

What had he first asked? Oh, yes. Why are you doing this to yourself? “Aeron doesn’t deserve to die like this.”

“Many do not deserve the deaths that come for them.”

She curled into Aeron’s side, acting as his shield, as a proper girlfriend should do. “You were given a second chance with your Harpy. I deserve a second chance with Aeron.”

“And when his time is up, will you request a third?”

To answer as he wished was to lie. “Why are you here, Lysander?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m here to tell you that your prayer was heard. I’m here to tell you that Aeron will be healed, but that you must make a sacrifice in return, as is our way.”

Sacrifice. Yes, that was usually the way of things. Since the beginning of time, self-sacrifice, undiluted proof of love, had always held the power to sway her Deity—and change the world. “I accept. Therefore, you may do what you were sent to do and leave.”

He remained unmoving. “Do you not care to know what you will be losing?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Well, no matter. I will tell you, anyway. You will lose your Voice of Truth. No longer will others believe everything you say. No longer will you never face doubt. No longer will you recognize a lie the moment it’s spoken. And if you decide to return to the heavens and be the angel you were meant to be, you still won’t have your Voice of Truth. It will be gone from you forever.”

Automatically, her hand sought her throat. Lose her truth? She would rather lose her hands as Gideon had. How would she deal with Aeron doubting her, when she would know in her soul that what she spoke was true?

Her gaze flicked to him. So still, so pale. So gaunt.

“Think carefully,” Lysander said. “Every hour, every minute, the path you are on develops more dangerous curves. And do you know what I see at the end of that road, no matter the direction you take? Do you know what awaits you there? Death, Olivia. Your death. And for what? A few more days with him. A few more days with a man who made a deal with me.”

“Wh-what deal?”

“I vowed that if he can convince you to return to the heavens, I will try and convince the Council to spare his life as well as his demon companion’s.”

Her mouth floundered open and closed. In shock, yes, that Lysander was now willing to fight the Council when he’d always denied her pleas to do so, but mostly in hurt. This explained so much. Lysander’s secret visit with Aeron. Why Aeron hadn’t given her that last orgasm. Why he’d wanted her to see him fight, showing her the harshness of his life.

She meant nothing to him. Not really. How could she, if he were so eager to use her as a bargaining chip? And yet, he was still a man she admired. He was willing to do anything to save someone he loved. To save Legion.

If only that loved one could have been her.

“If I return with you, you can guarantee he will live?” she croaked.

“I can try.” Which didn’t sound like a guarantee to her. “What’s important here is that he agreed,” Lysander added before she could reply. “He’s willing to part with you to save himself.”

The hurt expanded, consuming her, choking her.

“Does that change your mind about this healing?” Lysander asked quietly. Hopefully. “This sacrifice?”

“No,” she answered without hesitation. Aeron had placed Legion’s well-being above hers, yes, but she’d expected that. What she hadn’t expected was to lose him before their time was up. Despite everything, she couldn’t lose him. “I still wish to make this bargain.”

Sadness filled Lysander’s eyes. “Then so it shall be done.”

As the last word left him, her vocal cords seized. For a moment, she couldn’t speak at all. Couldn’t even gurgle or gasp or breathe. She clawed at her throat, her mind fogging as ice and fire melded in her blood.

“It will pass,” Lysander said, suddenly in front of her and stroking her temple. It was what he’d done anytime she’d failed to bring her human charges joy. Offered comfort. He had always wanted the best for her, and clearly did now, as well. He was not a bad man, and she would do well to remember that.

As he’d promised, oxygen finally began to seep past her throat and into her lungs. The fire dulled, the ice melted. The fog dissipated. Grateful, she sucked in breath after breath.

“Would Aeron have done the same for you?” Lysander asked. “No. Do not answer. Just think about all I have said.”

She nodded. She would be able to do nothing else.

“Be prepared, sweet Olivia. Aeron could very well be injured like this again. I fear Rhea has given the Hunters water from the five rivers of the Realm of Hades.”

Olivia flinched. Such water used as a weapon meant certain death. A sip, a touch, and goodbye forever. Even the soul withered. The only way to combat the vile poison was to drink from the River of Life. A river even she didn’t know how to find.

“They’ve been making their own bullets and each of those bullets contains a single drop of that water.” He withdrew a small vial from his robe. “Aeron needs only a drop of this to heal. The rest I would hide. Just in case. Use it carefully, however, for when it’s gone, you’ll receive no more.”