The Darkest Whisper (Lords of the Underworld #4)(68)
Author: Gena Showalter

Was he…could he be…thinking about signing on for the job? Her eyes were wide as he plopped a few feet in front of her and stretched out.

“Well?”

“Consorts are forever,” she croaked, “and very rare. A Harpy is a free spirit, but every so often one will encounter a male who…delights her. That’s the best word I can think of to describe the obsession. His smell and touch become drugs to her. His voice soothes her fury as nothing else is able, almost as if it strokes her feathers. As to what’s expected of him, I don’t know. I’ve never met a Harpy with a consort.”

He arched a brow. “You’ve never had one? A consort, I mean. And if you dare say chicken man…”

“No, no consort.” Tyson had not delighted her Harpy, that was for sure. She waved her fingers at the water. “I earned it.” The bottle was soaring through the air a second later. Cold liquid splashed her arms when she caught it. In seconds, she had the contents drained.

“Do Harpies have to obey their consorts?”

A laugh bubbled from her. “No. Do you honestly think a Harpy has to obey anyone?”

He shrugged, and she caught a glimpse of both resolve and disappointment in his dark gaze.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked.

“Your sisters seemed to think…” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Never mind.”

“What?”

His gaze became piercing. “Sure you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“They think I am your consort.”

Her chin hit her sternum, her mouth forming a wide O. “What?” she repeated, sounding foolish even to her own ears. “Why would they think that?” And why hadn’t they talked to her about it, rather than Sabin?

“I calm you. You want me.” He was almost defensive.

But if he…if she…holy hell. He did calm her. From the first, he’d calmed her. And she craved him, his blood, his presence, his body. She’d been such a failure at everything else in the Harpy world that she’d always figured a true consort wasn’t in the cards for her. Was it?

When Sabin wasn’t with her, she was looking for him. When he was with her, she wanted to be snuggled up to him, enjoying him. She had shared her secrets with him and wasn’t sorry.

Anya had told her Sabin belonged to her, but Gwen hadn’t believed the goddess back then. Now…holy hell, she thought again, dazed.

Was that why Sabin had been so distant with her? He didn’t want to be her consort? Her stomach twisted painfully. “I don’t…I don’t know if I love you, though,” she said, trying to give him an out.

Something dark filled his eyes. Something hard and hot. “You don’t have to love me.” The word “yet” hung between them, unsaid but there all the same.

Did he love her? It was almost too much to hope for. Because, if he loved her, he would have touched her again. Right? “Let’s talk about the war,” she found herself saying, rather than asking what she really wanted to know: Why haven’t you made love to me? “Won’t be as uncomfortable.”

He sighed. “Have it your way, then. I didn’t go to Chicago with the others, so I’ve been taking names from scrolls that list other demon-possessed immortals out there, looking for them in the books Lucien collected over the years and trying to learn about them.”

He’d stayed for her. She knew that, and couldn’t stop the delight that spread through her. Perhaps he didn’t hate the thought of being her consort, after all. “Found anything?”

“I recognized a lot of the names from my days in the heavens. Most of the prisoners in Tartarus were placed there by me and the other Lords, so we won’t be their favorite people. Might be best if we just hunt them down and kill them, so they don’t help Galen. Then again, he helped lock them away, too, back when he was one of us, so maybe it’s moot.” He paused, sighed again. “Look, I brought up the consort thing because I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Disappointment and eagerness dueled for supremacy. Eagerness won. She straightened, ears perking. This was clearly an important subject to him. “I’m listening.”

Motions stiff, he dug into the cooler and withdrew another water.

“Payment?” she asked with a laugh. “I’ve already agreed to help you. No need to pay me.”

Silent, he popped the lid and drained the contents.

Her grin faded, the silence edged with tension. “What’s going on?”

He fell back against the tree, looking everywhere but at her. “When the time comes for battle, and it will, sooner rather than later, I want you to stay here, away from the action.”

Yeah. Right. She laughed again, her humor restored. “Funny.”

“I’m serious. I have your sisters. I don’t need you.”

But…he couldn’t mean this. Could he? This driven warrior would use anyone against the Hunters, would not be happy with three Harpies when he could have four. Right?

“I would never joke about something like this,” he added.

No, he wouldn’t. Just then it felt as if a thousand of Sabin’s daggers were stabbing at her chest, each of them aimed for her heart. Several of them succeeded in puncturing the organ, for it throbbed and burned. “But you said you needed me. You did everything in your power to enlist my aid. I’ve been training. I’ve improved.”

He scoured a hand down his face, looking exhausted all of a sudden. “I did say that. You have improved.”

“But?”

“Damn it!” he suddenly growled, fist slamming into the ground. “I’m not ready for you to spring into active duty.”

“I don’t understand. What’s going on? What changed your mind like this?” It would have taken something major, she knew.

“I just…damn it,” he repeated. “Whatever goes down in Chicago will surely infuriate the Hunters. Look what happened after Egypt. They’ll come here. They’ll try to retaliate. I won’t be able to concentrate with you by my side. All right? I’ll worry. I’ll be distracted. And my distraction will place my men at risk.”

Gwen didn’t know where she found the strength, but she pushed to her feet. Her eyes narrowed. He would worry. The female in her liked the thought of that. A lot. The blossoming warrior, the Harpy she now wanted to be, hated it, burning away the joy. She would never again be a coward.