The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld #7)(29)
Author: Gena Showalter

Even though you meant to kil her yourself?

He ignored the simple, rational question and experimented with his range of motion, lifting one leg and rotating his ankle. He grimaced, then repeated the process with the other leg. He grimaced again. Both legs fel back onto the mattress with a hard thump. The bones had woven back together, but they were stil fractured.

“Whoa.” Strider pushed to his feet, the chair skidding behind him. “What the hel do you think you’re doing? Lie down. You’re stil recovering.”

Amun hardly ever despised his inability to speak. Silence was his choice, his way of righting the wrongs he’d committed al those centuries ago, of helping the innocents so much like the ones he’d once slaughtered. Not to mention his friends. They had enough to worry about. But just then, he wanted to shout—the girl, where the hel is the girl—uncaring that the moment he did, al the secrets inside him would spil out, hurting everyone who heard them. Not physical y but mental y, and that was a far worse pain to bear. He knew that very wel .

Not even the warriors he lived with would be able to tolerate knowing when other men desired their women. Nor would they be able to tolerate the disgusting things their enemies had planned for their loved ones. Friendships would be destroyed, jealousy a constant companion, and paranoia would fol ow their every step.

Amun could deal because he’d spent thousands of years learning to distance himself from the visions and voices in his head, blocking emotions before they could even form.

Not this newest onslaught, of course. He’d never experienced anything like this and had no idea how to cope. Had no idea how he was lucid now, the new demons cowering in the back of his mind. Unless…

Haidee.

Her name whispered through his mind, a plea, a prayer, his demon sensing the truth, even as Amun struggled to accept it. Was she responsible? The first time, as wel as now?

The first time he’d tasted frosted apricots, he’d come to his senses. Now he tasted apricots again, and his senses once again returned. Couldn’t be a coincidence. His desperation to find her intensified.

He threw his legs over the side of the mattress, hinges squeaking. Every muscle he possessed knotted and ached, clamping tightly on those fractured bones.

“Amun, damn it. You’ve been bed-bound for days, recovering from your wounds and our little experiments.

Stop before you—”

Agitation somehow making his motions fluid, he twisted to face his friend, lips pul ed over his teeth.

Most of what Strider had said confused him, but he left it alone. Final y forcing his hands to work, he jerkily signed, I’m sorry I hurt you. Sorry I chal enged you before. But I have to find her.

Where is she? If they’d hurt her, he didn’t know what the hel he’d do. Didn’t know how she affected him like this. Didn’t know why he cared what was done to her, whether she was responsible for his recovery or not.

Secrets whispered, She is fine, and despite the low volume, the High Lord stil managed to be the loudest voice in his head. At the same time, Strider sat back down and said, “She’s there.” His tone was hard and unbending as he motioned to the left with a tilt of his chin.

Amun noticed his friend didn’t have to ask who “she” was.

He fol owed that tilt with his gaze, and hissed in an agonized breath. She was on her knees, her arms chained above her head. That chain was anchored to his ceiling, offering just enough slack to keep her spine erect. Her head lol ed forward, her chin pressed into her col arbone.

The length of her blond-and-pink hair shielded most of her dirt-smudged face, but he could see that her eyes were closed, her long, curling lashes fanning down.

His lips parted in a silent roar as he at last pushed to a stand. She is not fine! His knees almost gave out, his stomach almost rebel ed, but fury and reckless determination gave him strength.

“I drugged her,” Strider said as if to soothe him from a violent temper. “She’l recover.”

That didn’t f**king matter! What mattered was that something had been done to her. How long had she been tethered like that? Unconscious? Helpless? Amun stalked to his friend, stumbling twice, and held out his hand, palm up. Secrets began prowling restlessly. Because they were closer to the girl?

Strider knew what he wanted and shook his head. “She’s a Hunter, Amun. She’s dangerous.”

He waved his fingers, insisting. He would chal enge Strider if necessary. Would do anything for what he wanted.

“Damn it! Do you care nothing for your own safety?”

Again he waved his fingers.

“Fine. You can deal with the consequences on your own.”

Scowling, but perhaps sensing the depths of Amun’s resolve, Strider reached inside his pocket and withdrew a key. He slapped the metal into Amun’s stil open palm.

Immediately Amun spun and stomped to Haidee. He tripped twice more along the way, but not even that slowed him. Secrets, he noted, had ceased prowling, was utterly stil and completely silent now.

Only those years of blunting the fiercest edges of his emotions kept his ire inside as he twisted the key into the lock. The metal unsnapped, freeing her. She sagged forward without a sound, arms fal ing heavily to her sides.

She would have kissed the floor if Amun hadn’t caught her.

His arms despised him, sharp pains stil shooting through him, but he didn’t care. At the moment of contact, the screams inside his head—muted though they’d been—quieted altogether, the demons determined to hide from her, as if they feared the pul ing would start up again.

Gently, so gently, he fit her against his chest and lifted her into his arms. The chil of her skin delighted him anew, and he couldn’t help but remember the glide of that skin against his, caressing, stroking, the friction unbearably sweet.

Raw desire, brutal in its intensity, suddenly consumed every inch of him. He fought past that clawing need and carried her to the bed. He eased her down, then fit the covers around her slight frame and peered down at her. How fragile she looked, her cheeks a bit hol owed, her lips chapped, her skin pal id. How vulnerable she was, unable to defend herself from any type of attack.

She would hate that vulnerability, he thought, not needing his demon’s help to recal the way she’d constantly scanned her surroundings, how she’d vigilantly searched for a weapon. How she had defended him with her very life.

Because she thought you were her human boyfriend, he recal ed next. He despised the reminder. Did she know the truth now? Would she fight him when she woke up? He thought he would prefer that.