The Darkest Whisper (Lords of the Underworld #4)(51)
Author: Gena Showalter

On the way to the fortress he’d phoned Lucien, who had flashed Maddox and Strider to the scene for cleanup, then had gone back to the fortress to gather Gideon and Cameo to search for any other Hunters that might be lurking about. Sadly, there’d been no sign of more. That didn’t mean they weren’t there, only that they were well-hidden.He wanted to slaughter another dozen or so.

Only a handful of times in the past two days had Gwen regained consciousness. Fuzzy as she’d been, he’d vacillated over and over again: take her to the hospital in town or keep her here? In the end, he always chose to keep her in his bedroom. She wasn’t human. Doctors could do her more harm than good.

But why wasn’t she recovering faster? She was immortal, a Harpy. Anya knew the race and swore they healed as swiftly as the Lords. But even though he’d removed the bullets, the holes in Gwen were still gaping, still raw.

After fussing over her this morning, Danika and Ashlyn had suggested he place Gwen in the Cage of Compulsion and command her to heal. Finally hopeful, he’d done it. But she’d only gotten worse. That was not how the cage was supposed to work, and he’d realized that though they thought they’d known the artifact’s abilities, they actually had much to learn.

Sabin had tried summoning Cronus, but evidently the god king was ignoring him. Damn gods. Only showing up when they wanted something. He now found himself praying for the arrival of her sisters. They would know what to do—if they didn’t butcher everyone inside the fortress first. The number Gwen had dialed the other day was stored in his phone, so he’d called it, too, intending to solicit advice, tell the girls to hurry. But the woman who answered had nearly gone up in flames when she discovered it was not Gwen on the line. And when he was unable to produce Gwen, the threats to his manhood had started.

Not a good omen of things to come.

“Can I get you anything?”

The question came from the door and Sabin jerked in surprise. Normally, a spider couldn’t sneak up on him. Lately, anyone and anything could. Damn Hunters. They’d been lurking in town, watching him, waiting for him to mess up so they could snatch Gwen. And he hadn’t f**king known.

“Sabin?”

“Yes.” He lay on the bed, Gwen tucked into his side. She’d stopped moaning in pain, at least. My charge, and I failed her. Worse, he’d promised her that the Hunters would never hurt her again. Hadn’t he? If he hadn’t, he should have. Guilt ate at him.

Did you expect anything less?

Doubt had long since turned its evil on Sabin, not giving him a moment’s rest.

“Sabin.”

Hands fisting, he regarded Kane, who stood in the entryway. Dark hair, hazel eyes. There was a smear of white on his left cheek. Probably from plaster. Ceilings loved to cave in on the keeper of Disaster.

“You good?”

“No.” He should be planning his next move against his enemy. He should be with his men, gearing up for battle. He should be on the streets, hunting. Instead, he could barely force himself to leave his bedroom. If his eyes weren’t on Gwen, if he wasn’t watching her chest rise and fall, his mind simply fried, unable to fend off Doubt with logic.

What the hell was wrong with him? She was just a girl. A girl he wanted to use. A girl who would probably die fighting his enemy—a girl he’d asked to fight his enemy. A girl he couldn’t have. A girl he’d only known a short while.

Being with her now, guarding her, wasn’t putting her above his mission, he assured himself. After he trained her, she’d be a killing machine. There’d be no stopping her. That’s why he was here, unable to leave, desperate for her recovery.

“How’s she doing?” a female voice suddenly asked.

Again, he was blinking as he refocused. Damn, but his mind wandered a lot lately. Ashlyn and Danika had returned—he’d lost count of the number of times they’d visited—and now stood beside Kane.

“Holding steady.” Why wasn’t she healing, damn it? “How’d the meeting go?” Because of the attack, it had been put off until this morning.

Kane shrugged, and the action seemed to piss off the lamp in the far corner because the lightbulb sparked. Then exploded. The women yelped and jumped out of the way. Used to such things, Kane continued as if nothing had happened. “Everyone’s in agreement. There’s no way Baden can be alive. Each of us held his head in our hands before we burned it. Either someone’s impersonating him or they’re starting the rumor to distract us from our purpose.”

The latter made sense. How like the Hunters. Because they weren’t as strong as the warriors, their best weapon was trickery.

Danika strolled to Gwen and smoothed the hair from the sleeping beauty’s face. Ashlyn joined her and clutched Gwen’s hand, probably willing her strength into that frail little body. Their concern touched him. They didn’t know her, not really, yet they still cared. Because he cared.

“Galen knows that we know he’s leading the Hunters,” he told Kane. “Why hasn’t he attacked again?”

“He’s planning, probably. Gathering his forces. Spreading lies about Baden to confuse us, definitely.”

“Well, I’m going to kill him.”

“Maybe sooner than you think. I saw him last night in my dreams,” Danika said without looking up. “He was with a woman. The scene was so vivid I painted it when I woke up this morning. Do you want to see?”

Poor Danika. She was faced with grisly visions nearly every night. Demons torturing souls, gods battling other gods, loved ones dying. Delicate human that she was, the horrors she witnessed had to scare her, yet she endured them with a smile because they helped her man’s cause.

What would Gwen do if she had such visions? he found himself wondering. Would she tremble as she had that day in the pyramid? Or would she attack, teeth bared, like the Harpy she’d been born to be?

“Sabin?” Kane asked. “Your distraction is screwing with our egos.”

“Sorry. Yes, please. I want to see it.”

Danika made to stand, but Kane stopped her. “Stay there. I’ll get it.” He disappeared down the hall, only to return a few minutes later, holding a canvas that stretched the length of his arm. He held it up, light gleaming off the dark colors.

Looked to be some sort of cave, the jagged rocks splattered with scarlet and soot. A few bones were scattered across the twig- and dirt-laden ground. Human, most likely. And there, in the far corner, was Galen, feathered wings outstretched. His pale head faced the viewer, and he was holding a…Sabin had to squint to see. A piece of paper?