The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld #7)(78)
Author: Gena Showalter

That isn’t what I said, damn it! He’d told her to offer him, al of him. Tel them what I real y said. Now.

She shook her head, enraging him.

The Horsemen studied the flop, gauging what cards Amun might have. They had to know how close he was to that royal flush—or think he had one already, since he was risking everything.

“If you fold now, however,” she went on, “you wil be exempt from the new agreement.”

Haidee, damn it. Tel them they can’t have you! If you don’t, I’l do it. I’l start speaking, and you know what happens then. He wouldn’t risk her, not for any reason.

She didn’t.

He opened his mouth.

“The new terms are acceptable,” Red said before he could utter a single word.

And just like that, there was no backing down. The stakes had been set. Amun wanted to vomit.

White and Black folded, eliminating fifty percent of the competition and leaving only Red and Green. As he’d hoped. The rest of the flop was dealt, and Red practical y hummed with satisfaction.

Green threw his cards onto the floor and spit on them. He hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted.

“What do you have?” Haidee demanded of Red.

He flipped one card, then the other. Ful house, Amun realized, queen over nines.

Haidee sucked in a breath. “Amun wins.” Grinning now, she tossed his cards at Red. “You lose. Both you and your friend owe him a year of service.”

Merciful gods. He’d gotten his royal flush.

Al four Horsemen pushed to their feet, scowling over at him, their auras pulsing brightly. Red and Green even leapt at him. But everything—the males, the female, the smoke, the tent—disappeared in flash, before a single point of contact could be made.

The cave once again surrounded him and Haidee.

They were alone, he realized just before the haze returned.

He was bombarded with relief, and that relief wiped out the adrenaline rush he’d fought so hard to maintain. He col apsed, unable to hold his own weight a second longer.

He was panting harder, sweating more profusely, the pain no longer hidden by duty.

How? he asked. He was certain he’d won that final round How? he asked. He was certain he’d won that final round through dishonorable means. Not that he cared. He simply needed to know in case the Horsemen returned and chal enged him.

Haidee crouched at his side and placed the backpack on his stomach. “The angel said the pack would give us everything we needed to survive, so I asked for a deck of cards that would stay ordered in a way that would give you an undefeatable hand, even after I shuffled them. And now I’m asking for literal hands.” As she spoke, she stuffed his arms inside.

The movement blasted the pain to another level, and he passed out before he discovered the results.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

STRIDER POSITIONED HIMSELF on the thick branch of an oak tree, surrounded by lush foliage and darkness. The clouds were thick and gray tonight, shielding the moon and stars and scenting the air with promised rain. The perfect atmosphere for fighting. Of course, he would have said the same thing if the sun had been shining brightly.

Planning an ambush was a lot more fun than vacationing with a horny immortal of questionable morals, a depressed, drugged-out warrior looking for his lost love and a forked-tongued little Harpy who rubbed his nerves raw.

Wil iam had decided he wanted no part in the coming battle. Said he couldn’t risk injury when he had more important things to do, or some shit like that. So he’d taken off for Gil y’s family home. Paris had just screwed a random stranger, his strength returned, his body healed, and was in the process of gathering weapons for The Stupid-Ass Chase, as Strider was now cal ing it. But Kaia, wel , she was perched in the tree across from Strider’s, waiting for the Hunters to find them.

They’d left a subtle but clear trail, acting as if they only wanted to camp and screw.

Below them was a tent, a crackling fire that cast only the barest hint of gold, hot dog weenies roasting on a portable gril —turned to its lowest setting, of course—and a lawn chair with a CPR dummy lounging on the plastic. How Kaia had produced the thing, he didn’t know and wasn’t going to ask. The stupid thing looked like him and had clearly been stabbed. Repeatedly. In the groin.

He thought she might have used the dummy for target practice, and tried not to be offended. Key word: tried.

What had he ever done to piss her off? Wel , besides annoy the hel out of her. But that had only happened recently, and she must have had that dummy for weeks.

There were just so many slashes.

Suddenly his branch bounced, the leaves rattling together.

He bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t have to look to know what had just happened. Kaia had decided to join him. She stil smel ed like cinnamon rol s, and his mouth stil watered every time she neared him.

“You have your own tree, woman,” he pointed out. “You said you’d stay on yours, and I’d stay on mine.”

“Yeah, wel , I lied.” Kaia settled next to him, completely at ease. “That happens. Get used to it. Besides, yours is prettier.”

He didn’t al ow himself the luxury of looking at her. One, he’d already memorized her features. In his mind, he saw the glossy red of her hair, so much like flames. Saw those gray-gold hawk eyes framed by lashes the same shade of red as her hair. Saw that pixie nose, those siren lips. Two, she would distract him—more than she already was. And with her litany of chal enges stil ringing in his head, she’d made certain he couldn’t afford a distraction.

He wished his demon would get the message.

Ever since she’d opened that fire-and-brimstone mouth of hers in the car, Defeat had been supercharged. Eager, humming with nervousness, but also with great waves of anticipation. She was a worthy opponent, strong, brave and fearless. Besting her would be a thril unlike any other, and a sexual high the likes of which he’d never experienced. As many battles as he’d fought over the centuries, he knew it, felt it. Wanted it.

And yeah, some of Strider’s anger with Kaia had drained as they’d staged the campsite. She was just so unabashedly female, so unrepentantly aggressive, and he admired those qualities. But that didn’t mean he liked her liked her.

The burn of her gaze brought him back to the present. She was studying him, taking his measure.

“Why are you here?” he asked, checking the site on the rifle mounted beside him. “Why did you ask Lucien to find me?

The truth this time.”

She sighed, her breath warm as it drifted over his shoulder.