The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(89)
Author: Gena Showalter

A few more flips, and he found four paintings of Cronus. His heart rate sped up. In some, the god paced the corridors of a prison cell, flames licking the walls, smoke filling the air. In others, he fought his way free, killing with expert precision, using his scythe, which stretched and stretched and stretched miles past its usual length to take the heads of his enemies.

Why had Cronus not carried the scythe when he’d visited Reyes? Afraid he would use it and regret it? If that were the case – which Reyes seriously doubted – it would mean Cronus needed him alive. Perhaps the king had traded it for something. Danika’s life? Anya had once mentioned that even the gods were bound by the laws of give-and-take, sow-and-reap.

Reyes frowned, pushing the thoughts from his mind. For now. They weren’t as important as saving his woman. He moved to another stack of canvases, the first of Cronus cornering a group of trembling gods and backing them into the very cell he himself had occupied. Gods Reyes had once guarded. Seeing them now, he felt a pang of forgotten loyalty. Cronus’s expression was one of cold determination. It was obvious he wanted to kill them, but wanted them to suffer the same fate he had even more.

For hours more, Reyes pored over the artwork. The women supplied him with water and snacks but remained silent, as if sensing his need to focus. Finally, he had examined every single canvas.

He hadn’t found the one he wanted – had Danika destroyed it? Hidden it elsewhere? – but he had learned some valuable information and began ticking each fact off in his mind.

Cronus hated confinement. Would do anything to avoid it.

He preferred revenge over absolute safety, for never again could the Greek gods challenge him for the heavenly throne if Cronus had killed them. Instead, he’d locked them away, taking Anya’s greatest treasure to ensure they stayed where they belonged.

His scythe could elongate as surely as Reyes’s nails.

All of that, on top of the first painting Reyes had seen…his mouth fell open as the answer finally, blessedly shifted into place. He jumped to his feet, having trouble catching his breath. Grinning for the first time in days.

"What?" the women asked in unison.

"I know what I have to do." Close, he was so close. All he had to do now was find a way into heaven.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"I MISS YOU SO MUCH, angel."

A long while passed, but there was no response.

Reyes lay on top of his bed. He had been there for hours, perhaps an entire day. He’d lost track of time. Over and over, he’d attempted to connect with Danika on the mental plane. She was up there, in heaven. She was a portal, and she’d propelled him there twice. It was reasonable to think she could do so again. The problem was that this time there could be no penetration to pave the way. Reyes could only hope their joinings had forged an emotional and spiritual bond strong enough to substitute for a physical coupling.

"I’m lost without you."

We’re lost, the demon piped up.

"We’re lost without you. Your family wants you back as desperately as I do. I’ve come to love them, for they helped shape you into the woman you are. One with such strength and courage."

Still nothing.

"Do you carry our child, Danika? If not, I want nothing more than to give you my baby, watch your belly grow."

Clearly, impending motherhood wasn’t the key, either. He swallowed. "Danika," he growled. "Talk to me. Now. I’m angry, Danika." Not with you, never you. But he continued darkly, "Soon I’ll be forced to cut myself. I’ll bleed. And you won’t be here to patch me up and make me feel better. I – "

Reyes?

Reyes blinked open his eyes. That had been Danika’s voice, whispering through his mind. It had worked. It had really worked! Sweat beaded all over his skin, relief and joy spearing him. Pain lit up inside his mind like a demonic Christmas tree. "Danika? Talk to me again."

Oh, my God. Is that you? Really you? I’ve dreamed of you and prayed for you and begged for you.

"I’m here, I’m here." Tears burned in his eyes, scalding his irises. "I need you to pull me to you, angel."

How? The word rushed from her, as desperate as he felt.

"Picture me in your mind. Picture your hands reaching for me, wrapping around me. You can do it. I know you can." This has to work. Please let this work. "You’re a portal. You can – "

Something cold pushed inside him. Ice crystallized in his veins, but he didn’t move. Pain was grasping for her, but couldn’t seem to latch on. "I can feel you."

And I you, but…

The sound of her frustration echoed in his mind. "What’s wrong, angel?"

I can’t get to your spirit. I’m grasping air, nothing but air.

"Grab hold of my physical body, then." He didn’t even have to finish the sentence before fingers, ghostly but firm, clutched his arms – just as cold, but solid – and jerked so powerfully he was lifted off the bed and through the ceiling. The plaster cracked and gave way, falling beneath him like rain.

He slammed into another ceiling, thought he saw Maddox rolling from his bed and reaching for a blade, a naked Ashlyn gasping. Reyes was unable to hold back a grimace.

Stop? Danika asked, his journey already slowing.

"No, no! Keep going, angel. Keep pulling. No matter what sounds I make, keeping tugging me to you."

He broke through the roof and was suddenly surrounded by night sky. Stars whizzed past him like blasts of lightning. He was weightless…soaring…then clouds engulfed him, zooming past, brushing his skin and leaving a moist sheen.

The moon seemed to grow bigger, more golden, so close he thought he could see a crater. And then, suddenly, he broke through some sort of invisible shield, the air around him warming, turning from black to shining azure in a heartbeat. The clouds became clusters of diamonds and Reyes could see golden columns flanking a winding emerald road.

His breath caught in his throat. Heaven, he realized. He was actually in heaven, albeit as a man rather than a spirit.

Angels ascended in every direction, their wings gliding prettily. Several looked at him and gasped. Others frowned and hurried away. To warn someone? Who? Angels didn’t answer to either the Titans or the Greeks. That much Reyes had learned from Danika’s paintings. Reyes hadn’t found a depiction of who they did answer to, though. He would have liked to have spoken to the…man? Woman? Would have requested the use of the heavenly army. Maybe one day…

He broke through another invisible wall, and then, finally, he was there, hovering beside Danika’s dais. His knees gave out, and he crumpled beside her, one hand already in her hair, the other cupping her jaw. Her sunny hair was spread around her. Her skin was tinted slightly blue from the cold. She was draped in white like a winter queen. His queen.