The Darkest Whisper (Lords of the Underworld #4)(42)
Author: Gena Showalter

She gasped, slapped him, then jerked her hand back quickly, as if she couldn’t believe she’d done such a thing. Afraid he’d retaliate for such a puny action? Silly girl.

“You deserved to be hit, so I won’t apologize. They aren’t hookers.”

“Killers?”

No gasp. No slap. A simple narrowing of her eyes, lashes fusing together. Bingo.

“They’re mercenaries.” Not a question. What amazing luck.

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. “They are.”

Sabin wanted to laugh. If one Harpy could destroy an entire army, what could four do? He could pay for their services. He had the money, no matter their price.

“I see the wheels turning in your head.” Her free hand drummed the pillow cushioning her own head. “But you should know that they love me and won’t take a job if I ask them to turn it down.”

Now his eyes narrowed, probing. She wore an innocent expression, if edged with tendrils of anger. “Is that a threat, darling?”

“Take it however you wish. I don’t want them fighting those despicable Hunters for any reason.”

“Why? Like you said, they’re despicable. Evil. They would have found a way to drug you into a stupor, rape you and steal your baby if I hadn’t saved you. You should be begging your sisters to fight them.”

“You’ve already tortured them for what they did to me and the others.” The words rasped from her.

“And that’s enough for you? When someone hurts me, I want to be the one to hurt them back. I want to make sure it’s done right. Didn’t you feel some satisfaction when you tore the throat out of—”

“Yes, okay. Yes. But allowing someone else to do it has to be enough. Otherwise I’ll spend my life hunting them, killing them, never really living.” Her nostrils were flared, her chest heaving. With every inhalation, the sheet slipped and revealed the top of a pink nipple. He had to force himself to look away before he ended their conversation.

Was she saying his life was empty? Well, it wasn’t. It was full, damn it. “Better to live a life of hunting and killing than to bury yourself in fear.”

She raised her palm as if she meant to strike him once more. She was shaking, the muted anger she’d radiated before now a red-hot fury. He’d finally pushed her hard enough. The Harpy was there, in her eyes.

“Do it,” he told her. It would be good for her. Show her that she could lash out and he wouldn’t break. He hoped.

Slowly her hand lowered; the shaking ceased. With a deep breath, her eyes returned to normal. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like me to be like you? Well, it’s not going to happen. No one would survive if it did. No one. Not even my sisters.”

He caught the hidden meaning and arched a brow. “Fought them and hurt them, have you?”

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 f**king 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 c**k 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.