The Darkest Whisper

A reluctant nod. “I was just a child and they were merely playing with me, taunting me as sisters do. I erupted and tore them up pretty badly.”

“I thought you said they were stronger than you.”

“They are. They can control who they kill, even while fully Harpy. That is true strength.”

He thought about it a moment, tangling a hand back and forth through his hair. “I bet I could take your Harpy. I mean, like your sisters, I’m immortal and heal quickly.” Yeah, he remembered what she’d done to the Hunter and yeah, he remembered how swiftly she’d moved. But why had he counted himself out before, even for a moment? He had brute force, thousands of years of experience and a determination matched by few. As long as she didn’t take his head, he’d recover.

“You’re an idiot.” She must not have realized what she’d said until a few seconds later because she froze as the words echoed off the walls.

“Nothing you say will provoke me enough to hurt you,” he told her, torn between tenderness and exasperation.

Gradually she relaxed, but the tension between them remained.

“Do you regret what happened in the shower?” he asked, in part to turn the conversation in another direction and in part, well, because his curiosity demanded to be assuaged. She’d just made it very clear that she didn’t like what he was or what he did.

“Yes,” she replied, cheeks heating.

No hesitation from her, and that seriously irritated him. “Why? You liked every moment of it.”

Hadn’t she?

His hands curled into fists, the bones suddenly brittle. That damn Doubt. But he feared that for once the insecurity was his own, not the demon spreading its poison.

Her gaze skittered away from him. “It was okay, I guess.”

He popped his jaw. It was okay. She guessed. She fucking guessed. By gods, he’d give her another demonstration. He’d kiss her, every inch of her this time, just the way he wanted. He’d dance his tongue between her legs, bite her, finger her, make her beg for his cock and then, only then, would he give it to her. He’d flip her to her stomach, grip her hips and—

Make love to her if he continued down this path. Mistake, mistake, mistake. Worth it, though, he thought next. There’d be no stopping him, and she’d love every minute of it. He’d pump inside her, spill his seed, deep and hot, and—

Again hear her tell you it was okay. She guessed. Doubt laughed, and in that moment the demon actually respected her.

“It was more than okay, but we’ll table that discussion until later.” Sabin hopped from the bed, unabashed as the sheet fell away, leaving him bared to her gaze. Suddenly shy, she slapped a hand over her eyes. But if he wasn’t mistaken, she was peeking through her fingers. He could feel the heat of those eyes, the smoldering desire.

He stalked to the closet. After weaponing up as was his custom—if fifteen blades strapped to his ankles, wrists, waist and back was being too careful, then give him the Too Careful award—he tugged on a pair of jeans and an I’ll See You in the Afterlife T-shirt.

He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a plain white tee and tossed them at Gwen. “Get up, get dressed.”

“Why?” She sat up, hair tumbling around her, and gathered the clothing.

“You’re going to call your sisters.” Time to get that little chore over with. “Anya told me a bit about your culture, and if you’re afraid they’ll try and harm you for allowing yourself to be captured, don’t be. I won’t let them.” He didn’t give her time to respond. “When you’re done with the call, we’re going downstairs to eat. And you will eat, Gwen. That’s an order.” There’d be none of that only eating what she stole nonsense. He might have considered leaving things lying around so she’d feel like she’d stolen them, but he wasn’t in the mood to placate her now.

“After that,” he continued, “I need to call all the men together for a meeting, tell them what I’ve learned about the Hunters. You’ll sit in on that, too. Because you’re part of this now.”

Her chin rose stubbornly. “I’m not one of your men to order around.”

“If you were one of my men, I’d be ashamed of my thoughts right now.” His gaze lowered, lingering on her breasts, her stomach…between her legs. He spun on his heel before he could do what he really wanted and stalk to her, cover her and penetrate her. “Now hurry up.”

There was a long pause, then a swoosh of material, a bounce of the bed, a sigh. “Okay. I’m ready.” She sounded resigned.

Once more Sabin faced her—and stopped breathing. Just like before, the clothing bagged on her. Now that she was clean, however, the white cotton caused her skin to gleam like a pearl. His mouth watered for a taste; a single lick would suffice. Would have to suffice, he thought, entranced, already walking to her, reaching out.

What the hell are you doing? Snap out of it, asshole! He stopped abruptly, teeth grinding. It took a moment for him to gather his wits and recall what he’d wanted her to do. When he did, he crossed the room to his dresser and swiped up his cell. There was a missed call and a text message. He scrolled the menu. The call had come from Kane. The text…Kane, as well. The warrior was spending the day in town but said to call if he was needed and he would rush home. It was a miracle that Kane had been able to use his phone twice in a row without frying it to hell.

After Sabin cleared the screen, he threw the phone at Gwen. She missed.

“Start dialing,” he told her.

GWEN LIFTED THE PHONE with a trembling hand, tears burning her eyes. The entire year of her imprisonment, she’d wanted to do this, had needed to hear her sisters’ voices. But she was still ashamed about what had happened to her and still didn’t want them to know.

“It’s morning here, so it’s nighttime in Alaska,” she said. “Perhaps I should wait.”Sabin showed no mercy. “Dial.”

“But—”

“I don’t understand your reluctance. You love them. You want them here, even made it a condition of your staying with me.”

“I know.” She traced her finger over the glowing numbers on the little black device. Her guilt was returning. Guilt for making her beloved sisters wait for news of her—or, if they didn’t know she’d been taken, simple contact from her.

“Will they blame you for what happened? Want to punish you? I told you I wouldn’t let them.”

“No.” Maybe. What she did know was that they’d demand Sabin allow them to join his war, just as he wanted. They’d want Hunter ass on a platter, served raw and fresh. But if they were injured because of Gwen…she’d hate herself forever and still another eternity.

“Call,” Sabin said.

Get over yourself, she thought. With a sigh, she dialed Bianka’s number. Of the three, Bianka was the most kindhearted. And by kindhearted, Gwen meant that Bianka would toss a glass of water at the person she’d just lit on fire.

Three rings later, her sister answered. “I have no idea who is calling me from this number but you had better haul ass or—”

“Hey, Bianka.” Her stomach clenched painfully, the voice so hauntingly familiar and so well loved the tears that had been burning her eyes finally spilled over, rushing down her cheeks. “It’s me.”

There was a pause, an inhalation of breath. “Gwennie? Gwennie, is that you?”

She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her wrist, very aware of Sabin’s hot gaze on her, practically eating her up. What was he thinking? Warrior that he was, her show of weakness—more weakness, that is—probably disgusted him. And that was a good thing. Really. They’d kissed and touched in the shower and she’d been ready to go further, take more, take all, give all, despite the kind of man he was and the things he’d said to her, the things he would ultimately do to her.

“Hey, you still there? Gwennie? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Yep, it’s me. The one and only,” she finally replied.

“My gods, girl. Do you know how long it’s been?”

Twelve months, eight days, seventeen minutes and thirty-nine seconds. “I have an inkling. So how are you?”

“Better, now that I’ve heard from you, but pissed as hell. You are gonna pay big-time when Taliyah finds you. A while back we called your phone, you know, to say hi and threaten to bitch slap you if you didn’t come home. No answer. So we called Tyson. He said you had moved out and he didn’t know how to reach you. We searched and searched, all over the damn world, but no luck. Finally we paid Tyson a personal visit and he told us you’d been taken against your will.”

“Did you torture him?” She wasn’t mad at him, didn’t want him hurt. He’d merely been protecting himself, something she understood.

“Well…maybe a little. Not our fault, though. He wasted precious time.”

She moaned; then she pictured Bianka, black hair twisted around her head, amber eyes glowing, red lips lifted in a wicked smile, and she couldn’t help but grin. “He’s alive, though. Yes?”

“Please, girl. As if we’d lower ourselves to kill that puny little shit. I never knew what you saw in him.”

“Good. He didn’t know where I was. Not really.”

“Who took you, anyway? What’d you do to them to punish them, huh, huh? They are dead, right? Tell me they’re dead, baby girl.”

“I’ll, uh, get to that.” Truth. “Some other time.” Again, truth. “Listen,” she added before Bianka could probe too deeply, “I’m currently in Budapest, but I want to see you guys. I miss you.” There at the end, her voice cracked.

“Then come home.” Bianka had never pleaded for anything—that Gwen knew of—but she sounded ready to beg just then. “We want you home. Not knowing where you were nearly destroyed us. Mom moved out months ago ’cause we wouldn’t stop pestering her about you, so you don’t have to worry about the cold-shoulder treatment.”