The Darkest Surrender (Lords of the Underworld #8)(59)
Author: Gena Showalter

Strider opened his mouth to continue, but Juliette snapped, “I don’t care about any of you. We didn’t come here to fight. No reason to. That’s what the games are for.”

Oh, really? He would have placed good money on the opposite being true—and he would have won, no question.

“You sure?” Kaia asked. “I don’t mind making an exception and pretending this is an event. I’ll even let you take the first swing without retaliating. Although I can’t promise my demon-possessed friends here will behave.”

Mutely, Juliette pivoted on a booted heel and stalked to the bar. Her consort and clan followed her.

Won, Defeat said on a happy sigh.

Strider mentally high-fived him, delighting as yet another bout of pleasure spun through him. Only problem was, Kaia couldn’t start training now. She couldn’t leave, either. Leaving would smack of cowardice. So they were stuck, their marathon makeout session on hold, as well.

“Kaia!” a female voice shouted excitedly. Once again the front door swung open. This time, Bianka raced inside, dark hair flying behind her and slapping Lysander in the face as he followed. Another warrior angel strode in behind him. This one had dark hair, piercing green eyes and features so emotionless they resembled a deep, dark void.

Zacharel. Strider had met the winged warrior weeks ago, when the being was sent to the fortress to prevent Amun from leaving. He’d had a hard time facing the guy, his body reacting every time they’d neared each other.

Strider had never swung that way, but he couldn’t be blamed. There was no being more physically perfect than Zacharel. Well, except for Kaia. This time, however, the reaction was muted. Maybe because, as strongly as he reacted to Kaia, nothing else could compare.

Sabin and Gwen strutted in next, moving to flank the angels. Even though Strider hadn’t texted his leader to tell him the Eagleshields were here, the warrior didn’t look surprised to see them. He must have watched them from the heavens, then, as planned.

Any luck finding the Rod?

“Bianka,” Kaia said with a laugh as she launched herself to meet her sister in the middle of the room. The twins hugged and danced as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“I would have been here sooner but Lysander held me prisoner in our cloud,” Bianka said with a grin. “He wouldn’t relent until Sabin gave the okay. Which I still don’t understand and will continue to punish him for until he spills. Secrets or guts, I don’t care which.”

That would explain the black eye the warrior currently possessed, Strider thought with a grin of his own.

“You’re so lucky,” Kaia said. “You can harm your consort.”

“I know. And feel free to harm him yourself. Although, maybe don’t hurt him too badly. There’s all kinds of trouble in the heavens nowadays, something about losing a piece of love, whatever that means, and my pookybear is stressed.”

That was the last thing Strider understood as the sisters began talking over each other.

“—because you look amazing and—”

“—wouldn’t believe the balls on—”

“—next time I want video feed of—”

“—cut just right, flesh makes the cutest purse—”

“—she doing here?”

In unison, they faced the bar, leveling Juliette with glares of abject disgust. Juliette pretended not to notice. Not her consort, though. He smiled at the twins as if they were the Christmas present he’d always wanted.

Blood…heating…

Strider would have volleyed himself like an H-bomb if a hard hand hadn’t settled on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t,” Lysander said.

“You wouldn’t. I would.” His gaze remained locked on the male he desperately wanted to slay.

An equally hard hand settled on his other shoulder. “Perhaps you should rethink your strategy,” Zacharel said in his cold, toneless voice.

Yeah, well, perhaps the humans disagreed with Strider’s “physically perfect” description, because they still loitered inside the bar, paying the angels no heed. And hell, they had wings and wore girly robes. Two other reasons to stare right there.

“They cannot see Lysander or me,” Zacharel explained. “You were correct. If they could, they would stare.”

Strider’s jaw clenched. “Stay out of my head.”

“Stop projecting your thoughts.”

He didn’t mind when Amun read him, but Zacharel? An angel? Freaking irritating. “The consort. What is he?”

Lysander didn’t ask for clarification. “His name is Lazarus, and he is the only son of Typhon.”

Oh, shit. He’d been right—guy was far from human. Strider wanted to shake his head, to deny, to do anything but accept. But when an angel spoke, there was no doubting him. Ever. Truth layered every nuance of Lysander’s voice and every cell in Strider’s body believed what he’d just been told.

As an elite guard to Zeus, Strider had fought many monsters. None had ever compared to Typhon. Bastard was a giant with the head of a dragon and the body of a snake. His wings spanned the entire length of a football field and a never-ending abyss had waited in his eyes.

Typhon had challenged Zeus, and he would have won, had been winning, until Strider and friends arrived on the scene, causing the giant to flee. You’re welcome, he thought dryly, recalling how Zeus had blamed them for distracting him, claiming he would have pulled through without them. Strider hadn’t heard a shred of gossip about Typhon since, and now he had to wonder what had happened to the guy.

“Who’s his mother?” Strider asked.

“I do not know her name, only that she is a Gorgon.”

“This just gets better by the second,” he muttered dryly. Gorgons could turn a man to stone with only a glance. They had snakes on their heads rather than hair—snakes that poisoned their victims when they bit. Medusa was the most famous of them, and so legendary even humans told tales of her evil prowess.

Mortals. So gullible. If they only knew Medusa was the cream of the crop and a real sweetheart compared to others of her race.

“Clearly, he wants a piece of Kaia.”

“Who doesn’t?” Zacharel asked, deadpan. As always. “She is a beautiful woman and I have seen how happy a Harpy can make an angel.”

Strider had his nose pressed into the angel’s a second later, breath sawing in and out. “You better stay away from her.”