The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(66)
Author: Gena Showalter

"Wait. What? You know?"

"Yes."

She tossed up her arms. "Well, why were you angry with me?"

"Angry? I was not angry."

"You stormed away from me. You barely even looked at me."

"Angel," he said on a sigh. His hand lifted and he cupped her jaw, angling her to face him. "I am new to this sense of…caring. I hated that you were speaking to a Hunter, I worried for your safety and I did not want to scare you away with my fervency. Also, I knew you were trying to protect me when you lied to the Hunter about the number of warriors here. But I also knew you had created problems for us that you didn’t intend."

"I don’t understand."

"Now they think we are all here, when there are only a few. They will send more men, bring more weapons."

The heat drained, totally and completely. "I’m sorry. I didn’t think…I just thought…Like Lucien said, Stefano doesn’t trust me," she said. "He might assume I was lying. He might think only a few of you are here."

"I can bring the others here," Lucien said. "We’ll be prepared for the worst."

Oh, God. There was going to be a fight, after all.

"Don’t worry," Reyes said. "All will be well. Now. The painting," he reminded her. "Get it for us. Please. We need to see if what you created means anything or can help us."

She nodded just as a phone rang, the sound echoing off the walls.

Frowning, Lucien dug inside his pocket. He barked a quick, "Yes," when the phone was next to his ear.

A moment passed.

His frown deepened as he hung up. "Sabin is impatient."

"I’ll be right back." Danika rushed into the studio and lifted the second painting she’d done from its place against the wall. She studied it, taking in first the bright colors and then the complex cast of characters. At the top of the canvas, two men and one woman, all garbed in white robes, sat upon thrones and stared regally down. At the bottom, a breathtakingly beautiful man with angel wings and devil horns led a human army across a sea of blood.

There was a butterfly tattoo on his lower stomach, the same type of menacing brand Reyes and the other warriors possessed.

The colors had yet to dry completely, so she was careful as she carted it into the bedroom. There, she propped the canvas on her legs. "Here."

Both men gaped when they saw it.

"What?" she said.

"Do you have any idea who those beings are?" Lucien asked her, his voice strained.

"No." And she didn’t. Other than what she’d painted, she knew nothing about them. "But I’ve seen them in my nightmares," she admitted. "Many, many times."

"Cronus, the king of gods, sits in the center throne. Atlas and Rhea are beside him. At the bottom, those men are Hunters."

"The Darkest Pleasure"

"And at the head of the army," Reyes said, sounding choked, "is Galen. Keeper of Hope."

The two men shared a heavy look.

"I cannot believe this. If this painting tells us true, he is leading the Hunters." Lucien gave a shake of his head. "I never suspected…never thought…Why would Hunters willingly follow him? A demon?"

Reyes reached out to trace a fingertip over the winged man’s face, realized the paint was still wet and dropped his arm. "Danika and I spoke of him earlier, yet I still cannot wrap my mind around this."

"We will have to deal with it later. There is no time to do so now. I must transport the rest of the warriors here." Lucien’s gaze flicked briefly to Danika. "Tell her. She needs to know." With that, he disappeared.

"Tell me what?" Dismay thickened her blood, and her fingers tightened on the canvas.

Grim determination suddenly radiated from Reyes. "Ashlyn heard something. About certain artifacts we are searching for. We knew the second had the power of sight," he said, "something that could see into heaven and hell."

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"It’s you." His gaze collided with hers and held, a black pit beckoning her to fall. "You are the artifact, Danika. You are the All-Seeing Eye. That is why the gods want you dead. That is why Hunters are even now on their way. Everyone wants a piece of you. And I fear no one will rest until they get it."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

BY THE TIME Sabin arrived in the fortress, Hunters were already scaling the mountain. Lucien had flashed him inside Torin’s bedroom, a wall-to-wall computer system consuming most of the space. All of the other warriors but the still-imprisoned Aeron surrounded the technological genius, staring at the many screens. No, not true, he realized. Pain was also absent. Again.

"Explosion?" Torin asked, glee in his tone.

"Yes. Blow them to hell," Maddox growled, fingers clenched around a serrated blade. "The only good Hunter is a dead one."

"No." Lucien tugged at his earlobe. "If they manage to bypass the pits, nets and arrows, let them inside. An explosion will draw innocent humans to the hill, and that we cannot allow."

Maddox’s nostrils flared. "Ashlyn – "

Lucien gave another of those tugs. "I’ve already flashed the women to safety, though neither went peacefully. With Anya as her guard, your female will be fine."

The heat of Maddox’s anger died, his shoulders slumping. "Very well."

"We let them inside and our home will be painted red," Paris said. "I, for one, will not enjoy cleaning. And with Aeron locked up, I know that duty will fall on my shoulders."

"I’ve fought Hunters a lot longer than you have," Sabin piped up. "Believe me, it’s better to kill them here than to fight them in the city where innocents can be harmed and used against us. And they will use innocents. Women and children make wonderful shields."

"All for the greater good," Cameo mocked sorrowfully, and he cringed. Someone needed to put a muzzle on her. No matter how much time they spent together, he would never get used to her voice.

"This is fun," the immortal named William said, rubbing his hands together.

Sabin stared over at him, wondering who the hell had invited him. Making new friends wasn’t on his agenda. "What are you doing here?"

Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose. "The warrior is our welcome guest and might be an asset in the coming battle." His tone was anything but happy, though Sabin was willing to bet he hoped the "welcome guest" was maimed in the fray. "We are dealing with more than we ever imagined."