The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld #7)(44)
Author: Gena Showalter

Anyway. None of that required caring. Yet she had done everything in her power to stay with him. Be with him.

Spend time with him. Aid him.

She sighed.

What?

He hadn’t turned around to ask, and her gaze ate up the strong expanse of his back. Without her emotions in the way, she was able to truly see him. Such dark skin, so many layers of muscle. He had no scars now, and his only tattoo was the butterfly. Which she couldn’t see at the moment; it must have returned to his leg. She marveled at the thought of a living tattoo, slipping and sliding from one corner of his body to the other, then shook her head and told herself to concentrate.

He was talking to her now. She didn’t want to lose this opportunity.

“I dreamed about you before I met you,” she confessed.

“But I didn’t know who—” or what, she mental y added “—you were. That’s why I began dating Micah. I thought…”

Amun’s shoulder blades pressed together in a jerky motion as he straightened. You thought he was me?

“Yes. And before you start insulting my intel igence, remember that you guys look a lot alike.”

So how do you now know you dreamed of me rather than him?

Because of the way Amun made her feel. Connected, aware. Alive. Burning from the inside out when she’d only ever known cold. To confess the truth was to make herself vulnerable—more than she already was. To confess was to give him power over her—more than he already had.

“I just do,” was al she said. “If I hadn’t calmed you, would you have kil ed me when you found out who I was?” She tried to maintain an impassive tone, but the tremble in the words gave her away.

There was a terrible pause that crystal ized the oxygen in her lungs. Then, Yes.

At least he was honest, but wow, that hurt. You would have kil ed him if you hadn’t dreamed of him, she reminded herself. True. That failed to ease her hurt, though. He’d kissed her, damn it. Intimately. A little loyalty would have been nice.

Il ogical.

Distracted as she was, she tripped over a stone and stumbled forward. She had to anchor her hands on Amun’s waist to steady herself. Instant, amazing heat. As always.

He didn’t pause, but he did stiffen.

Stay alert, Haidee. He spat her name like it was a curse.

Maybe it was. “I’m trying. Amun. We’ve been walking for a long time and don’t seem to be getting anywhere. I’m tired, hungry, and oh, yeah, I’m also saving your ass. Propping me up when I fal without complaining is the least you can do to repay me.” Even as she scolded him, she vowed to do a better job. She straightened, severing contact—mourning the loss, again as always—and studied her newest surroundings.

They had maneuvered into a type of hal way, the blood-splattered wal s tal but not broad. The floor tilted, sending them deeper underground with every step. Dust layered the warm air, and in the distance she thought she heard a steady drip, drip.

You’re right, he said. I’m…sorry.

The apology was gritted, like the words tasted foul. Didn’t matter. She’d take it. Anything was better than nothing. Just ask her stomach.

“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked, her voice echoing around them.

No. A clipped tone, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a roundabout command for silence. Then he surprised her by adding, Al I know is that hel is down, so that’s the direction we’re heading.

A chimp could have told her that, but she kept her mouth closed as they stepped through another opening. Another cavern. The wal s stretched, al owing easier, freer motions.

Final y, they were getting somewhere. And shockingly, there was thick, dewy foliage sprouting from the rocks.

Nice, she thought, until something hissed at her. She yelped, twisting to discover the source.

A pair of narrowed red eyes glowed from the round head of a snake, forked tongue dancing over sharp, dripping fangs.

She opened her mouth to scream, but a tide of dizziness slammed through her and only a moan escaped.

Somehow she remained on her feet. “N-nice snakey snake,” she whispered, palms rising to proclaim her innocence.

The creature launched at her neck. Not nice. Her reflexes were too slow to save her.

Amun’s thick, corded arm whipped out, fingers wrapping just below that open, waiting mouth, wrist twisting, snapping head from scaled body. When he opened his fist, the reptile floated lifelessly to the ground.

“Th-thank you,” she rasped. The dizziness hadn’t left her, and now her heart felt distorted in her chest, a smashed organ hammering against her spine rather than her ribs.

Welcome. Now I’ve saved your ass. His gaze never shifted to her, nor did he massage her neck in comfort, as she suddenly craved.

“We’re not even close to even, big boy.”

I didn’t say we were. Let’s keep moving. I don’t like this area.

They started forward again, and this time, Haidee kept one hand wrapped around the waist of his pants, afraid to let go. He didn’t chastise her, and she was grateful. She hated snakes. Hated, hated, hated.

Maybe because a Hydrophis Belcheri had kil ed her once, its poison spurting acid straight into her veins, making her writhe and beg for mercy she had never found. Not even in death.

“Hurry,” she said. “I don’t like this area, either.”

Then you’re real y not going to like what my demon just told me.

“Oh, God. What?”

We’ve just entered the Realm of Snakes, Amun said grimly.

Sweet heaven above. “Please tel me the Realm of Snakes refers to the sweet little garden variety, and that we’l only encounter one or two of them.”

The Realm of Snakes refers to the sweet little garden variety, and we’l only encounter one or two of them.

Though she knew he was lying, his dry baritone caused her lips to twitch and some of her fear to fade.

“Good, that’s good. So what else did Secrets tel you?” Fingers crossed she didn’t have a panic attack after his next words.

That we shouldn’t look directly into their eyes because they can hypnotize us into believing we actual y want them to bite us.

The fear returned ful -force, but at least the dizziness now made sense. Hypnosis. Shit. Control was one of her most prized possessions. Too wel did she know the horror of being without a choice. For days, weeks, whatever, she’d been Strider’s prisoner, al owed to do only what he wanted her to do. Before that, every time she’d died, losing pieces of her memories when she final y returned to life, she had known only consuming hate and a driving need to destroy.