The Darkest Whisper (Page 33)

The Darkest Whisper (Lords of the Underworld #4)(33)
Author: Gena Showalter

They shared a laugh. Gwen could easily recall the time Bianka and Kaia had painted a hopscotch square in their backyard. Rather than toss stones, they’d tossed cars. Taliyah had used semis.

“Good news is, they’ll approve of your choice of beefcake. Sabin’s just the sort of wicked they’d like, no doubt about it. Pun intended, of course.”

Pun? What pun? And Sabin was not her boyfriend. A good thing he wasn’t; because she’d left her sisters for Tyson, they’d probably slay her next boyfriend on principle alone. “My guess is they’d be dining on his liver five minutes after meeting him.” Another reason to put off her phone call, despite her guilt. Sabin wasn’t in her Fave Five at the moment, but she didn’t want him dead.

“That’s okay. He’d just grow a new one. Besides, you’re not giving my boy enough credit. When it comes to battle, he fights dirtier than anyone I know. Including myself, and I stabbed my BFF in the stomach just for the giggles!”

Okay. Maybe Anya wasn’t as kind and gentle as she’d supposed. “I’ve seen him fight. I know he’s fierce.”

“But you worry for him?” Anya studied her intently.

Yes. No. Maybe.

“Well, don’t. He’s half demon, after all.”

“Which demon possesses him?” she asked, unable to hide her impatience to know.

But Anya continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Let me give you a little background info. See, Sabin’s been clashing with Hunters—the men who held you captive—for thousands of years. They blame the Lords for the world’s evil, sickness, death, you name it, and will stop at nothing to obliterate every single one of them. Murder humans—” her gaze turned shrewd “—rape immortals.”

Gwen had to look away.

“Right now there’s a race to find four artifacts that once belonged to king Cronie, the shithead, because they’ll lead the way to Pandora’s box, the one thing guaranteed to kill the Lords. It’ll suck their demons right out of them.” There at the end, worry had seeped from her tone.

“That sounds like a good thing.” What she wouldn’t give to have the Harpy sucked out of her. But it wasn’t another entity, much as she liked to pretend otherwise. It was her. The deepest part of her.

“Oh, no. Not good. It’ll kill their bodies. Those demons are like another heart. Without it, they can’t function.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sweat it, though. Threesomes are fun. I should know.” Anya’s smile was dreamy. “My man was ordered to kill me by Cronus himself, but Lucien just couldn’t do it. He fell in love with me instead. And oh, I love the way he loves me.”

No one, not even Tyson, had ever made Gwen smile like that. Which meant she had never loved or been loved like that. And though she’d already come to that conclusion in prison, the fresh reminder stung.

“Now, enough lying around like lazy bums,” Anya said. “C’mon, I’ll give you a tour of the fortress. I’ll even tell you everything I know about Sabin.”

Sabin. Her heart skipped a beat, just the mention of his name able to affect her. How was that possible? He was everything Tyson was not: fierce, dominating, vengeful, passionate. He was everything she’d never wanted. “But…Sabin told me to stay put.”

“Oh, please. Gwen—can I call you Gwen?—you’re a Harpy, and Harpies do not take orders from anyone, especially bossy demons.”

She bit her lip and eyed the door. You considered sneaking out once already. What’s a second time? “A tour does sound kind of wonderful. If you can guarantee the Lords will leave me alone.”

“I can, so come on.” Anya hopped to her feet, dragging Gwen up behind her. “I’ll give you ten minutes to shower and then we’ll—”

“Oh, I don’t need a shower.” Or rather, she wouldn’t take one. Not in this house.

“You sure? You’re all…icky.”

Yes, and she wanted to keep it that way. During her captivity, she’d made sure to dust herself with the sand off the ground every few days. Otherwise, everyone would have seen the true color and texture of her skin. Much as she was curious to see Sabin’s reaction, she didn’t want to deal with the aftereffects. And there were always aftereffects. “I’m sure.”

If she were home, either in Georgia or Alaska, she could shower and use her makeup to blend in. Since she wasn’t, she couldn’t. Dirt was her only buffer.

“Fine, then. Lucky for you I’m not a clean freak.” Anya linked their arms and kicked into a leisurely stroll.

For half an hour, they wandered the fortress, upstairs, downstairs, the wide, open kitchen—Gwen tried and failed to picture any of the Lords in there cooking—the library, an office, a covered garden of bright multicolored blooms, and into private bedrooms that didn’t belong to either of them. Nothing was sacred to the goddess. In two of them, couples had been sleeping, arms and legs tangled. Gwen’s cheeks had burned bright until the doors were shut, the nakedness blocked.

But not one secret of Sabin’s did Anya reveal.

By the time they reached the media room—“entertainment” room, as the goddess called it—she was ready to break down and ask. Instead, she forced herself to focus and look around, trying to learn more about Sabin and his friends through their possessions. There was a huge flat-screen TV, assorted video game systems, a pool table, a refrigerator, a karaoke machine, even a basketball hoop. Popcorn kernels littered the floor, scenting the air with their buttery goodness.

“This is amazing,” she said, spreading her arms and twirling. The men must not be the all day/all night war hounds she’d thought they were.

“Well, hello, ladies. I do believe this room isn’t the only thing that’s amazing.”

The deep voice filled the spacious chamber as the recliner in front of the TV swiveled. Then a gorgeous man with dark hair and blue eyes was peering over at her, assessing her every curve. Gwen panicked, automatically reaching for one of the stars she’d hidden in her pocket.

“Gwen, meet William. He’s an immortal, but not demon-possessed. Unless you count his sex addiction as his own personal demon. William, meet the woman who is going to bring Sabin to his knees.”

William’s sensuous lips dipped into a pout. “I wouldn’t mind being brought to my knees. So if you change your mind about being with the warrior…”