The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld #7)(31)
Author: Gena Showalter

Now he knew, deep in his bones, that no matter what he said, the moment Sabin learned Haidee’s true identity, he would stride into this room and calmly but surely strip her of her pride, her peace of mind and even her wil to live.

“I’m not going to keep this from him, Amun,” Strider said.

There was no emotion in his tone. His voice was dead now, his tenacity clear.

Give me a day with her, then. A day wasn’t going to be enough, he realized in the next instant. Not because he desired her. Which he did. Oh, did he desire. More than he should, more than he’d ever desired another. There was stil no denying that fact. Never before had he placed someone else’s welfare above that of his friends, and an enemy at that. No, a day wasn’t going to be enough because she’d cal ed him “baby” and he wanted so badly for it to be true.

He scrubbed a hand down his sore, swol en face. The endearment had been meant for another man.

That should have lessened its appeal. It didn’t.

Stil . He was going to protect her, he thought. From Sabin.

From al of them. She was the reason Amun’s sanity had returned. Therefore, he had to keep her safe.

And if he was going to keep her safe, at least for a little while, he needed to set a few rules. Like, no more thinking about how soft she felt in his arms. Like, no more tapping into her sweetest memories.

Like, no more kissing her.

The first time had been the last time. No matter how succulent she’d tasted. No matter how passionately she’d come apart for him. No matter how much he yearned to sink inside her, slipping in and out, slowly at first, then increasing his speed, pushing them both to feverish heights. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her, and he damn wel wasn’t supposed to be lusting for her.

“Why do you want a day?” Strider demanded. “A day’s not going to change anything. Besides, Sabin’s not going to kil her, knowing she’s responsible for your improved condition.”

Sabin would torture her, though. Because I would rather pamper an enemy—even the one responsible for Baden’s murder, he added for his own benefit—than endure the darkness and the visions. Selfish of him, yes, and another reason to hate himself, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

Another reason to hate himself? he mused then. An odd choice of words. Amun didn’t hate himself and never had.

He didn’t like some of the things he’d done over his endless lifetime, but hate? No. Unlike some of the other warriors, he wasn’t fil ed with guilt over his past, either. He’d kil ed innocents, yes. He’d razed cities to the ground, that, too. But he’d been a puppet, his strings pul ed by his demon. So how, then, was he to blame?

Because he should have been stronger? That was what some of his friends thought about themselves.

Not him. No one would have been strong enough to stop those demons.

Because he’d helped open Pandora’s box, and deserved the punishment that led to his need for destruction? Nearly al of the Lords thought that, but again, Amun didn’t.

Everyone made mistakes, and that had been one of his.

You paid the price and then you moved on.

And what of Haidee? he wondered. Was her mistake forgivable? Had she paid the price? Should he move on?

His jaw clenched. He ignored that line of questioning, focusing instead on what he’d do once his day with her was over—or if he wasn’t even given a day. No matter what, he wasn’t going to al ow Sabin to have her. When the time came, Amun would simply cart her out of the fortress. And once they left, no one would be able to find them. His demon could do more than steal secrets from those around them.

His demon could keep secrets. Distorting memories, even before they were created.

If Amun wanted to disappear forever, he could disappear forever.

He could hide Haidee until he learned how to control the new demons himself. Then…then he didn’t know what he would do with her. Bring her back, he hoped. Do what needed doing, he prayed. Because if he failed to learn the answers he needed, he would be stuck with Haidee forever, destroying his friends.

Plus, Amun added, I plan to talk to her. Learn more about her effect on me.

“Who are you trying to fool? Yourself or me? We both know that’s a lie. You’re not thinking with you brain right now, my man.” The last was snapped, as if the warrior had reached the end of his patience.

“You want to f**k her, end of story.”

Wel , Amun had reached the end of his patience, too. What we both know is that you aren’t thinking with your brain, either.

There was a momentary splash of astonishment over Strider’s face before the warrior smoothed his features into a blank expression that matched his earlier tone. “Stay out of my head.”

Control your thoughts, Amun signed. I know you desire her.

Now I’l hear you admit it.

The tip of Strider’s tongue traced over the straight line of his teeth. “Fine. I want her. But I’m not going to do anything about it. I’m not going to let it stop me from winning our war.” At least he didn’t try to deny his feelings. “Can you say the same?”

Amun merely raised his chin. I can’t say anything.

“Funny. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Wel , that’s al you’re going to get from me.

“Fine,” Strider snarled, pushing to his feet. “I’m leaving before you provoke my demon any more.

You’ve got your day, but I’d be careful if I were you. When you least expect it, she’s gonna go for your head. Guaranteed. And maybe that doesn’t concern you. Maybe you even want to die.

Yeah, I saw what you did to yourself. But guess what? Not for a single moment are any of the rest of us ready to deal with your loss. So why don’t you think about that before you put your life on the line for our enemy?”

CHAPTER TEN

TWO SECONDS AFTER STRIDER barricaded himself inside his own bedroom, he had his phone in hand and was texting Lucien. He couldn’t deal with this. He’d reached his bul shit limit.

At fortress. Come get me. Now.

It was nice, having a friend who could flash from one location to another with only a thought.

Within five minutes, his friend materialized a few feet away from him. Lucien was winded, barreled chest rising and fal ing shal owly. A sheen of sweat covered his entire torso.

His mane of black hair shagged around his severely scarred face, and his multicolored eyes were bright.

He was shirtless, his butterfly tattoo practical y crackling with electricity on his left shoulder. His unfastened pants were barely staying on his hips. To top it al off, tension radiated from the man.