The Darkest Pleasure by Gena Showalter Read Free Book Online

planning to use her as Bait, hoping to draw him out in the open by dangling her in his face.
    This changed everything.
    “Was she hurt? Did they touch her?” He palmed his second blade before he realized what he was doing: preparing for war.
    Lucien continued his story as if Reyes had never spoken. “As I escorted the Hunter’s soul to hell, I saw the last few acts of his life inside my mind.”
    “Was. She. Hurt?” The stilted question hissed out of his throat, from between his clenched teeth.
    “Yes.”
    Pain prowled the corridors of his mind, sharpening its claws against the sides of his skull. “Is she—” Reyes pressed his lips together. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Could barely tolerate thinking it.
    “No,” Lucien answered anyway. “She is not dead.”
    Thank the gods. Relief gobbled up his fury, and his shoulders sagged. “Were any other Hunters involved?”
    “Yes.”
    Again, Lucien did not elaborate.
    “How many?”
    “One. She broke his nose.”
    “On purpose?” he asked, shocked.
    “Yes.”
    The Danika he remembered had been gentle, sweet. He was not sure what to think of this tigress, but he would stake his own life on the fact that she was tormented by her actions.
    “Where is she?” He would go to her, check on her, find a way to protect her from future Hunter attacks, and then he would leave her. He would not allow himself to linger, would not even engage her in a conversation. But he had to see her, had to verify that she was alive and well.
    Afterward he would find and savagely kill the other Hunter responsible for her pain. A broken nose wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy his raging need for vengeance.
    Lucien didn’t answer him. “We’re traveling to Rome in less than a week to search the temple again. We need those artifacts.”
    So that was the way they were going to play it, huh? “I know.”
    “I want Aeron brought here before we leave.”
    “You want to place the entire household in danger, then. You want to ignore Aeron’s wishes to appease your own.”
    “He is one of us. He needs us now more than ever.”
    Reyes stalked forward, past Lucien and out of the room. Since Anya and Ashlyn had moved in, the old crumbling fortress had been transformed into a home. Flowers now overflowed from colorful vases. The walls had been lined with artwork Anya had stolen—mostly of naked men; she had a wicked sense of humor—and the furniture had been updated.
    Haphazardly patched-together couches were out and plush leather was in. Intricately carved and polished chests, wire-rimmed benches and pillowed lounges filled the rooms and adorned the hallways. He’d been leery of the women at first. Now, he wasn’t sure what he’d do without them. They were anchors amid a terrible storm.
    His boots pounded the staircase, creating a wild thump, thump rhythm. He rounded the corner of the third floor—and stopped abruptly. Lucien waited at his bedroom door, expression determined.
    All Death had to do was think of a location and he could flash there in an instant.
    “I will not give up,” Lucien said. “That should please you. I would not give up were the situation reversed and it was your life I fought for.”
    Scowling, Reyes propelled back into motion. He shouldered Lucien aside and shoved open his bedroom door. Inside, he marched straight to his favorite cache of weapons.
    “The others feel as I do and are angry about your refusal to speak of Aeron. I have asked them for a few days to talk some sense into you. After that…”
    After that they would be at his throat constantly. To them, he was choosing Danika over Aeron, and a warrior did not choose a woman over another warrior. Ever. Reyes did not point out that Maddox had chosen Ashlyn and Lucien had chosen Anya. He did not point out—again—that Aeron preferred death over the creature he’d become and would not be happy about returning to the fortress. It would do no good. Worse, part of him felt as Lucien did.
    Reyes