WHAT THE HELL WAS HE going to do?
He loved Anya. Lucien admitted that now. Knew it with a soul-deep intensity that could not be denied any longer. He loved her. He hadn't been able to kill her, and he could not abide the thought of her being bound to Cronus, the god king able to find her at every turn. Nor could he abide the thought of her being weak and powerless. Not when she had come to mean more to him than his own life.
She enjoyed stealing, often lied, could kill without remorse, had a bounty on her head, could not make love, and yet he cherished her more than he'd ever cherished Mariah. He hadn't thought such a thing possible. But Anya was the other half of him, the better half. She made him feel whole, complete, like a man rather than a demon. An attractive man, no less.
She gave him something to live for, wiped away his pain, his past, and - when she kissed him - his insecurities. Her sense of humor delighted him, her actions intrigued him. Merely being in her presence gave him more pleasure than sleeping with another woman ever had.
He knew of only one way to save her now. Find an artifact as quickly as possible and pray Cronus wanted it more than the key. He would gladly trade the artifact for Anya's life, Pandora's box be damned.
There was no way Lucien would allow Anya to give up that key now, that much he knew. She would lose her powers, her memories, the freedom she so valued. Her life? Without her ability to flash, she would be vulnerable to all kinds of attack. She would be helpless. Trapped. If a man decided to bind her by penetrating her, she would not be able to disappear or fight her way free.
With a roar, Lucien slammed his fist into the wall of the bedroom he'd occupied last night. A bedroom he'd shared with Anya. Beautiful, sparkling, fiery Anya. The wall cracked; blood trickled from the broken skin on his hand.
Anya was the one woman who saw past his scars to the man inside. In her presence he felt as if he could conquer the entire world, and he did not want that feeling to end. Holding her in his arms had been the greatest experience of his life. Nothing else compared. Nothing else came close.
Lucien scrubbed his throbbing hand down his face. Throbbing? Yes. It hadn't healed instantly, but remained cut. Dark blue and purple bruises were forming over his knuckles.
You shall weaken, Cronus had warned.
He laughed darkly. No matter what he did, what path he chose, he would weaken.
"We'll find it," Anya said softly.
He whipped around. She leaned against the doorframe, a vision in white. Thick white fur coat, skin-tight white pants. White fur boots that climbed up her glorious legs. Pale hair spilled over her shoulders and down her chest. His heart skipped a beat.
She was holding a bundle of white clothing. "You already knew that Cronus approached me yesterday. Well, you were right. He threatened me and that's why I was so mean to you. I didn't want him to know that I was...that I..." She gulped.
"I love you, Anya," he admitted gruffly. "I love you, and I can't - won't - hurt you. Understand?"
Her mouth dropped open and the clothes fell from her arms. "Lucien. I - I - "
"You do not have to say it back. I've come to know you, Anya. You are wild and free and the thought of loving a man terrifies you."
She gazed down at her feet. For the first time, she did not berate herself for it. He was pleased. He wanted her to be comfortable doing anything with him, even that.
"I feel for you what I've never felt for another," she said quietly, "and I'm happiest when I'm with you. Why else would I have hung around when you were doing everything in your power to get rid of me? But love..." She swallowed again, shook her head. "I've spent my entire life trying to keep men at a distance. Somehow you worked your way under my skin, but I can't love you." The last was said on a tortured breath.
"I know." She would feel obligated to give up her freedom if she admitted that she loved him. He would not ask it of her. Not now.
"I've been on my own for a long time," she said on a desperate laugh, "and you and I both know just how long I have left. I can't place myself in someone else's keeping."
"I know," he said again.
"I just...I know I don't want you hurt. I...I need time to think."
According to Cronus, Lucien did not have much time. Soon. The clock is ticking. Lucien would search for Hydra for however long he had. If he failed to find her, if he failed to win the artifact, he would not fight his fate, he realized then. Had already accepted it, to be honest. He couldn't hurt Anya and couldn't allow Cronus to have the key. If he had to die to ensure her safety, then he would die.
He loved Anya enough to willingly give his life for hers. Without hesitation, without reservation.
He had not been able to give his life for Mariah, but he had wanted to. Had wished for it all these long centuries. Until now. Now he was glad he'd survived. He lived and died for Anya. He would regret the past no more; he would not spend another millennium craving something he could not have.
He would enjoy Anya for as long as they could be together.
"Why do I feel so guilty?" Anya whispered, and there was shame in the undercurrents of her voice. "Like I should give Cronus the key?"
There was only one answer: she did indeed love him. His heart swelled with joy and pride. And that was enough for him, knowing she loved him, even if she could not say the words. "You will not give it to him. Promise me. Promise me you will never give it away."
Tears filled her eyes. Minutes passed in silence.
"Promise me, Anya. Give me that peace of mind."
Her lashes were black and spiky, creating a shadow-fan under her ice-blue eyes. Or perhaps, in her anguish, bruises had formed there. Finally she said, "I promise." Then she laughed without humor. "Great. Now I feel even guiltier."
He reached out and sifted strands of her silky hair between his fingers. "You should not feel that way."
"Then how should I feel?" She sniffled.
"Come here," he said, giving the locks a gentle tug.
As she inched forward, her watery gaze landed on his hand. She gripped his wrist, turning over his palm, and frowned. "You're hurt."
"A tiny scratch, nothing more."
She lifted it to her lips and placed a soft kiss directly on the wound. "My poor baby. I don't like to see you hurting."
Electric jolts shot up his arm, hot and hungry. Oh, yes, he loved this woman. He traced the shadows with his fingertip, and then their gazes locked. "I would gladly be hacked to pieces to be so ministered to."
"Do you think he can do it? Do you think you'll weaken?" she whispered brokenly, though they both already knew the answer. "You're so strong. You're so vital."
"I will be fine," he lied.
"Maybe I should, I don't know, talk to Cronus or something."
Adamant, he shook his head. "You will not do that, either. He could make things worse."
Sadness couched every beautiful plane and hollow of her face; she remained silent.
"I told you. We will find the artifact."
"You guys coming?" William called, his irritation clear.
"In a minute!" Anya shouted without looking away from Lucien. "You need to get dressed. We can't have you turning into a popsicle, now can we?"
"Not again." He spent the next heartbeat of time memorizing her face, drinking her in and branding her essence onto his every cell. She caressed his cheek all the while, clearly not wanting to leave the room, either.
"I put your gear on the floor," she said.
He chuckled. "I know. I saw you drop everything." He kissed her softly. "I'll see you downstairs."
"Flowers, I - "
"Say no more, sweetheart. We'll find a way to make this work."
A tear finally spilled over, racing down her cheek. "Sweetheart. You called me sweetheart." Without giving him a chance to reply, she disappeared.
But he didn't think she left right away, because he could still smell strawberries, could still feel her gaze burning into him. Then the skin above his heart tingled, as if she'd just traced an X.
A SULKING WILLIAM HAD refused to allow Lucien to flash him. Instead, the man had a helicopter take them to the coast of Greenland, where mountain met ice and many a human had died, forgotten and alone. The flying deathtrap could not go any farther, and Lucien was glad. He wanted out. The air was so cold, the engine kept sputtering, threatening to freeze.
He could have flashed before plummeting to the ground, so the thought of crashing didn't bother him. The fact that he was not in control bothered him. The fact that his stomach was in his throat bothered him. The fact that Anya's last memories of him might be of him hunched over and vomiting bothered him.
He nearly kissed the snow-covered land when he finally exited.
Three ATVs were already waiting for them, along with backpacks of food and water. William had seen to everything, not that Lucien trusted him. Lucien remained on guard, staying between the warrior and Anya at all times.
They climbed onto the vehicles, and he traded his lack of control for a sense of bleak isolation. An ocean of snow surrounded him. Beautiful, lovely to the extreme, but deadly. Was this how the demon had felt inside Pandora's box? Only instead of vast white there'd been nothing but eternal darkness?
"We can flash this stuff to where we need it," Anya grumbled with a glance at the backpack behind her. Heated breath caused mist to curtain her face. "I don't see why we need to haul its weight around and let it slap us in the ass every time we hit a bump."
"I agree," Lucien said.
"Well, I don't," William griped. "And obviously, you need me, so it's my way or no way."
She flipped him off. Lucien grinned at her show of spirit. Much better than the broken woman who'd left him in the bedroom.
The wind was glacial, so sharp and biting it cut past the thermal bodysuit he wore and all the way to the bone. Already he could feel his blood crystallizing, as if someone were blowing ice directly inside his veins.
"We need to climb to the highest peak," he told William. He'd checked his voice mail before leaving the house and, not surprisingly, he'd missed Torin's call while he and Anya...played. The warrior had left a message, saying he and Ashlyn had researched the area but had found no recent documented sightings of Hydra or any other beast. Too few people traveled up here, it seemed. The best place to look, Torin had advised, was the region's most dangerous area. The less traffic, the more appealing a spot it would be to a creature trying to hide.
"That's the one, then," William said, pointing straight ahead. "And don't try to flash, leaving me behind. You won't reach the top without me since I've left little presents for my...uninvited guests along the way." He paused, tilted his head. "In fact, just get flashing out of your mind, period. Maybe I should have told you earlier, but, well, you irritate me. I can't be flashed anywhere."
"What makes you so sure you cannot be flashed?" Lucien asked.
"Just trust me. Attempting to flash me hurts everyone involved. I made the mistake of rocking Hera's world, so Zeus made sure no goddess would ever be able to flash me to safety. Jealous husbands are dumb. Then Hera found out I was also rocking other goddesses' worlds, and next thing I know, I'm keeping Anya company in the slammer. Some women are more trouble than they're worth." William anchored a helmet on his head and motioned for them to do the same.
Lucien grabbed Anya's and looked it over carefully before he allowed her to do so. She gave him a secret smile before she pulled it on. His nostrils, lungs and chest stung as he donned his own. The crackle of Anya's breathing suddenly filled his ears. There was a headset built into the side, he realized, so they could communicate while they moved. Human technology could be a blessing.
"This is fun," Anya said.
It was as though she was purring straight into his ear, and his blood finally heated, melting the ice.
William cranked up his ATV and started forward. Lucien and Anya followed just a few feet behind.
"Maybe now is a good time to tell you that a group of men entered the circle about...oh, three days ago," William said into the headset. "Doubt they were looking for me."
Lucien didn't have to see his face to know the warrior was grinning with relish. "How do you know?"
"They're human. I don't mess with human women."
"Could it be Hunters?" Anya asked. Through the mask, Lucien could see her eyes blazing with curiosity.
"Most likely," Lucien said. How had they known to venture here, though? Before meeting their demise at the temple, the Hunters had complained about their lack of success.
Perhaps Cronus was somehow feeding them information as the warriors learned it, he speculated. His eyes narrowed in fury. That made sense - and did not bode well for the warriors.
"Where are they now?" he asked.
"Maybe dead." William shrugged. "Maybe on the mountain."
"I thought you monitored this place for jealous husbands," Anya said. "You should know."
"Maybe they disabled my cameras."
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Anya leaned down - Lucien reached for her, but she maintained her balance - grabbed a handful of ice and threw it at the warrior, nailing him in the back. "Your attitude sucks. This is hardly the way to get your book back."
William continued to motor along without retaliating, almost as if he felt he deserved the chastisement. Snow and ice whipped from the chains and tires of the man's vehicle, blustering around them and making their visibility hazy. His posture was stiff, predatory, as if he expected to be attacked at any moment.
Something was terribly wrong with this situation. What, Lucien could only guess. Sadly, none of his guesses were optimistic.
TIME PASSED SLOWLY considering the sense of urgency pounding through her. Urgency and pain. Anya's ass hurt like hell. The heavy bag strapped to her four-wheeler did indeed slap at her as she'd suspected it would. Gods, she hated this. Hated not knowing the best course of action, hated not being able to read an entire situation. All she knew was that Lucien was the best thing to ever happen to her, William was clearly hiding something and she was miserable.
And if...when Lucien began growing weak - because of me, she thought guiltily - he would not be able to fight Hydra, even if they found her, placing him in greater danger. So many ifs. But Anya couldn't abide the thought of Lucien being hurt. He loved her. He'd admitted it without shame, without hesitation, and he'd meant it. Tenderness and joy had infused his confession, warming her body and soul. He loved the woman she was, not the woman he wanted her to be.
They had to find Hydra; they just had to. She'd once thought to use the artifacts to bargain for her own life. Now she knew she couldn't do that to Lucien. Instead, she was going to use them to bargain for his life.
Cronus would still hunt her, of course, because he would never stop desiring the key. Unless she killed him, which wasn't a bad idea. She might give it a shot, she thought, pursing her lips. After all, who better to murder a king than Anarchy?
Lucien would be pissed if he knew what she was thinking. He wouldn't want her to place herself at risk, no matter that she did so for him. For them. But she'd rather deal with his anger than watch him die slowly and painfully.
This is beginning to sound like love.
She shut down the thought before it could spread and deepen. If she admitted that she loved him, she wouldn't be able to resist making love to him. Already she was close to giving in. No matter the consequences. If she gave in, however, and he did die, she would be consumed with eternal grief and bound to a dead man. Not even the All-Key could break that tie.
Her stomach lurched with nausea. Her body numbed. No. No, no, no. Never. He's not going to die. Don't think like that. You're going to do everything in your power to save him. Besides, she suspected she'd be consumed with eternal grief anyway.
She wanted to reach out and take his hand. She wanted to jump off her ATV and onto his and snuggle in his lap. Wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her close. She didn't. Now was not the time. The stakes were too high.
Later, she promised herself.
As they continued through the snow, she found no hint of human invasion. No footprints or tire tracks. Perhaps the Hunters had already turned back. A girl could hope, anyway. She didn't want them near Lucien.
"Trip wires up ahead," William suddenly warned. "Follow me and don't deviate."
She and Lucien slowed down, getting behind the warrior in a straight line. Anya had the middle and Lucien claimed the rear. Her protector.
"How do you know?" she asked.
"I put them there," he muttered. "A man has to protect himself when immortals are always trying to sneak up on him."
Maybe the Hunters hadn't turned back. Maybe they'd been killed. "Any other little gems you've got waiting out here?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, but he didn't elaborate.
"Like what?" Lucien asked.
Anya could hear the tension in his voice. He's worried for me, the sweetie. Again she wanted to jump on him.
"Bombs, poison berries, ice caves," William said. "You know, all the B-movie stuff."
"Nice," Anya said. But her smile at the thought of all that mischief faded as a new thought occurred to her. What if the Hunters laid a trap for us?
