The Darkest Whisper

CHAPTER 17

Gwen had never been more nervous in her life. Not in her prison cell. Not even when she’d faced the Hunters with Sabin.

After watching Sabin calm the Harpy, Kaia had summoned Bianka and Taliyah with a sharp whistle. Apparently, they’d been in the hallway, making sure no one approached while Kaia rescued Gwen. Then the three sisters had barricaded themselves inside Sabin’s bedroom for a little “chat.”

“No one else knows we’re here,” Bianka had said. “So it’s just gonna be the five of us.”

Gwen would have protested the coming chat, the isolation—this kind of scenario always ended in bloodshed for the Skyhawks—but several things stopped her. One, Sabin had a death grip on her, keeping her pinned against his side. Why? Did he think she would race to her sisters and demand they slaughter him? Two, she was as weak as a newborn kitten, barely able to hold up her eyelids. Plus, her shoulder and chest burned painfully. If Sabin had let her go, she would have collapsed against the headboard. And three, she planned to be brave one more time and act as Sabin’s shield. If her sisters, who were angry at her treatment and seemed to have conveniently forgotten they’d once admired the Lords, came after him…

Why she cared, she didn’t know. Only minutes ago, he’d been embracing Kaia. Hadn’t he? The memory was fuzzy, as if she’d watched the couple on a screen rather than in real life. Real or not, though, it had pissed the hell out of her. Sabin belonged to Gwen. For now, at least. And not because they’d showered together and he’d given her the best orgasm of her life. But because, well, she didn’t know. He just did.

“Before we start talking, let’s take care of baby girl.” Kaia strode to her now, cutting her wrist along the way, and held it to Gwen’s mouth. “Drink.”

She’d drunk from her sisters throughout her childhood, “to be safe from any injury you might obtain,” they’d always told her. They themselves drank from any boyfriend they had at the time before heading to a battle or any kind of job. So it wasn’t an odd command. After all, vampires weren’t the only race that required blood, though Harpies only needed it for healing or to prevent injuries. But just as she fit her lips over the dripping wound, Sabin grasped her by the neck and spun her around so that she was facing him.

“Hey,” Kaia growled.

His neck had a long, thick gash, a gash he’d now reopened with a slash of his razored nail. “If she needs to drink, she’ll drink from me.”

He didn’t give anyone time to protest, but jerked Gwen forward, holding her head completely immobile to prevent her from turning away. Like she would. Already she could smell the sweetness of his scent. Lemons and blood. It filled her nostrils, drifted into her lungs and spread through the rest of her, leaving a trail of tingling warmth.

Unable to stop herself, mouth watering, she traced her tongue over the wound. Ecstasy. A fruity dessert. Her eyes closed and she fit herself against his body, arms wrapping around him to hold him captive, knees caging his legs. The angel side of her knew this was wrong, that she shouldn’t do it and certainly shouldn’t like it, but the Harpy side of her sang happily, desperate for more, for nothing had ever tasted like this. Like heaven and hell, perfect and wicked and sure to be her downfall.

On and on she sucked, drawing the liquid decadence into her mouth, down her throat. With every swallow a little more of her strength returned. The ache in her wounds began to ebb, the tissue weaving back together. How had she ever lived without this? Thankfully, blood didn’t have to be stolen to be enjoyed. It was a source of medicine, not food. She should have thought to drink from Sabin before.

Through it all, Sabin remained still. Between her legs, however, she could feel the hard length of his erection. His fingers had fallen to her hips and were digging deep, holding her immobile.

She could hear his breath raging in her ears, could even hear a few of his thoughts: yes, yes, more, don’t stop, so good, must…bed…mine. Or maybe they were her own.

“Don’t drain him, baby girl,” Bianka said, breaking through the mire of Gwen’s new addiction. “We have a few questions for him first.”

Nails dug into her scalp, and her head was torn away from Sabin’s neck. She yelped, blood trickling from her parted lips.

He snarled low in his throat, glaring over at Bianka while tightening his grip on Gwen. “Touch her like that again and you’ll be saying goodbye to your hands.”

Grinning, Bianka twirled a strand of black hair around her finger. “Now there’s the Lord of the Underworld I’ve heard so much about. I almost believe you’ll do it, demon. Well, try to do it.”

“I never make a threat I don’t intend to see through,” he said, turning Gwen and smashing her against his side once more.

She almost moaned. Her sisters never—never—backed down from a challenge. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, hoping to distract them.

“The big guy not taking care of you?” Kaia strolled around the room, lifting knickknacks, opening dresser drawers. “Oh, sweet. Black briefs are my favorite.” She even crouched in front of Sabin’s weapons case, broke the lock with a twist of her wrist and flipped open the lid. “Hmm, lookie what I found.”

“He’s taking care of me,” Gwen said, oddly defensive of him. He’d released her from captivity, guarded her, planned to teach her how to defend herself. The Hunter thing was her own fault. She should have stayed in the car. She couldn’t regret that she’d emerged to help, though. He was alive. Safe.

Are you being truthful with your sisters, because I can think of several instances that Sabin—

“Sorry,” Sabin muttered.

Good thing he’d shut that stupid demon up, because the Harpy had started squawking the moment its voice had filled her head.

Bianka joined Kaia at the chest, and they oohed and ahhed over the guns and knives. Weapons were their kryptonite. Taliyah stepped to the edge of the bed, staring down at her, expression blank, emotionless. No one was more beautiful than Taliyah. She possessed white hair, white skin, eyes of the palest blue. She was like a snow queen—and many a person had actually accused her of having ice in her veins. Not that they’d lived long afterward.

“I know your situation with the Hunters,” she said to Sabin. “I’ve heard tales of your viciousness and have admired you for it. I’ve even hoped to meet you. But now I want to kill you for bringing my sister into this mess. She isn’t a fighter.”

“She could be.” Several seconds passed, but Sabin didn’t add anything else. Didn’t try to defend himself.

He was going to leave it at that? Let them think she’d shacked up with him and he’d placed her in danger for no reason, rather than tell them the truth, that she’d been stupid, caught and caged? That he’d saved her. If he told them the truth, he would guarantee their participation in his war. A war he placed above everything else in his life, even love. Why would he do that? For her?

Tears suddenly burned her eyes, threatening to spill over. Well, she could do something for him. “Actually, the Hunters brought me in,” Gwen admitted, twisting the sheets.

“Gwen,” Sabin said. A warning.

“They need to know everything.” For his sake, and her own. Gathering her strength, she told her sisters about her confinement, leaving no detail out. As she spoke, the tears fell freely. Only a few minutes passed, but they were the most mortifying minutes of her life. Sabin, like her sisters, admired strength. Ferocity. Yet here she was, broadcasting her weakness to the only people who mattered to her.

He surprised her by tenderly wiping away the salty beads that cascaded down her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. That made her cry even harder.

When she finished, silence encompassed the room. Tension thickened the air, creating a crackling suspension of time.

Taliyah was the first to speak. “How did they get you?”

The cold tone of her voice sent a shiver through Gwen. “Tyson forgot his cell phone one morning when he left for work, and I knew he’d want it. But he was too far down the road for me to catch at human speed so I…” She gulped. Such a stupid mistake, one she’d regretted every day since. “I used my wings and beat him to his office. Hunters saw me when I stopped, thought I had magically appeared, though I didn’t know it at the time. I guess they followed me home, waited until later that night when Tyson and I—” she gulped “—fell asleep.”

“You slept in bed with Tyson?” three female voices said at once.

“What’s with you Harpies and sleep?” Sabin stiffened against her. “Not that I think you’re wrong to be disgusted by anyone in bed with chicken man. It’s that bastard Tyson who needs to die. He didn’t protect her.”

“Neither did you,” Taliyah said flatly.

“I’m alive because of Sabin.” Gwen offered him a shaky smile. “And Tyson’s not a bad guy. He tried to save me before they knocked him out.” Even though he’d been upset with her.

When he’d come home from work that evening, he hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened. She’d utterly freaked him out by beating him to his office—because he’d already begun to notice other, weirder things about her.

She’d hidden her dark side as best she could but sometimes it had emerged despite her, and he would come home to holes in the wall, ripped sheets, smashed dishes. Once, during a silly argument about whose turn it was to pick what DVD they’d watch, she’d even shoved him into a wall and the plaster had collapsed on him. They’d kissed and made up, but that had been the beginning of the end.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I found myself wrapped up, unable to move, barely able to breathe as the Hunters flew me to Egypt. They locked me up and twelve months later Sabin and the other Lords set me free and brought me here.”

“You killed the men responsible for her torment, of course?” Taliyah asked Sabin.

He nodded. “Gwen killed one. I killed some of the others.”

Her powder blue eyes flared in anger. “Why not all? And good job, Gwen,” she added with a nod of approval.

Before she could admit it had been an accident, Sabin said, “The survivors are being held in my dungeon and tortured for information.”

Taliyah’s shoulders relaxed somewhat. “That’s all right, then.” She turned back to Gwen. “Have you eaten?”

Gwen cast a sideways glance at Sabin. Very clearly she recalled stealing his sandwich and stuffing it into her mouth. “Yes.”

Thankfully, he gave no reaction. With Tyson, she’d stolen their food from nearby restaurants and passed it off as her own cooking. He’d never known. He would have rebuked her. Would Sabin? She didn’t think so. He’d smiled at her when she’d taken things from the store.

“You ready to go home, then?” Kaia jumped onto the side of the bed, causing the mattress to bounce. “’Cause I’m more than ready to blow this joint. I know you like your demon, so you can bring him if you want. Whether he wants to come or not. We’ll get you tucked safely away and come back for the Hunters. They will pay for what they did to you. Don’t worry.”

“I—well…” Did she want to go home? Hidden, safe, everyone else taking care of things? Hadn’t she gone to Georgia in part to escape just that? And while she liked being with Sabin, she knew he would be miserable trapped in Alaska with no one to fight. He would grow to resent her.

So if she went home, she’d have to go alone. The thought left a hollow ache in her chest. What she and Sabin had done in the shower…she wanted it again. I thought there could be no more of that. I thought it was too dangerous. But faced with the possibility of going without it, without him, of never knowing what it would be like to be possessed by him, totally and completely, none of the reasons for staying away from him seemed to matter.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Sabin said.

Lord love domineering men. Sometimes. “Right. I’m staying.” Gwen peered over at her sisters, silently beseeching them to understand, to accept. They watched her for a long while, as quiet as she was.

Bianka was the first to speak. “Fine. But where should we store our gear?” she asked on a sigh.

Gwen had known they’d want to stay, as well, and that both delighted and worried her. Sabin, at least, didn’t bat an eye. “There’s an empty room beside this one. Mind sharing?”

He was giving them a room of their own after denying Gwen the same privilege?

“No, we don’t mind,” Taliyah said. “But tell me, what are your plans for the Hunters?”

“To kill them. All of them. We’ll never know peace as long as they’re alive.”

She nodded. “Well, lucky you, you’ve got yourself three new soldiers.”

“Four,” Gwen rushed out before she could stop herself. She’d meant what she said, she realized. She really did want to stop the Hunters. She wanted to protect her sisters and Sabin from them. And for once, she wanted to prove herself worthy.

Once more, everyone focused on her. Sabin, with anger—though she didn’t know why. He wanted her to do this, didn’t he? Bianka and Kaia, with indulgence. And Taliyah, with determination.

“Well, don’t just lie there,” Kaia said, arms lifting and dropping at her sides in exasperation. “Get up. We’ve got a war to win.”

Sabin ran a hand down his suddenly drawn face. “Welcome to my army, girls.”

HE WAS GWEN’S CONSORT, her sisters had said. Sabin took that to mean they thought she belonged to him. He wasn’t sure he believed it himself, but damn if he didn’t like the thought. He still couldn’t keep her, though, not without destroying her. At least, not as things stood.

She spent the rest of the day and night in bed, though she never fell asleep again. Determined to find out why, he left her alone the next morning and went in search of Anya. He found her in the entertainment room, finishing another video game with Gilly. He told her about the arrival of their guests and she clapped happily.

“Lucien told me you texted him about guests, but I had no idea they were more Harpies!”

“Now you know. They’re in the gym. So what’s the deal with Harpies sleeping?”

She laughed in his face. “Figure it out on your own,” she said, sauntering to the door. “I’ve got a Skyhawk reunion to see to.”

He followed her into the gym, curious as to how such a reunion would go down.

The trio—who had already made themselves at home, with everything—spotted the goddess, stopped tossing and catching barbells as if they were tiny stones, and ran to her, throwing their arms around her.

“Anya! You took off without a word, you bitch!”

“Where have you been?”

“What are you doing here?”

They threw the questions at her simultaneously, but Anya seemed unfazed. “Sorry about that, girlies. I’ve been all over the world. You know, seeing the sights, causing trouble and falling in love with Death himself. I’m here because this is home. Like what I’ve done with the place?”

They continued to hug and talk and laugh. Sabin tried to butt in a few times, but was steadfastly ignored. Finally he gave up and left them to it, meaning to find Anya later and once again ask her about Harpy sleeping arrangements. Asking the sisters was out of the question. Harpies, he’d already learned, lived by their own set of rules, and he didn’t want to inadvertently demean Gwen with his ignorance.

Gwen.

Every minute with her was dangerous. Last night had been the worst. He’d remained by her side, smelling her femininity, hearing the cotton glide over her skin, but they’d kept their distance from each other, remaining on separate sides of the mattress. He would have taken her—he was weak where she, that luscious body and that lickable skin were concerned; there, he’d finally admitted to a weakness—but every time he’d reached for her, Doubt had begun spreading its poison.

Will she die if you keep her? Will she want more than you can give, then leave you when you can’t give it?

Once again, he hated the demon.

Only around her sisters did the little shit quiet, and Sabin didn’t know why. He would figure it out, though. He was determined. Because, if he could somehow work it so that Doubt shut the hell up around Gwen, he could have her. Maybe forever.

After he checked on the prisoners—who were still too weak to endure any more torture and survive—he went to the kitchen to fix Gwen something to eat. All the food was gone. Talk about déjà vu. Nothing was left, not even a bag of chips. The Harpies had been here, he supposed.

With a sigh, he strode to his bedroom. Gwen was no longer in bed. Frowning, he began hunting her. He found her on the roof with Anya and her sisters—the latter of whom were playing Who Can Fall From The Roof And Break The Least Amount Of Bones.

“I leave you for less than an hour,” he said to Gwen. “Don’t you dare jump.”

“I’m just watching,” she assured him with a grin. A grin that made his chest ache.

A smattering of warriors stood on the ground below, watching as well. They wore resigned expressions, but mixed with the resignation was awe. They were drinking in that Harpy skin like it was wine.

“Enough of this,” Sabin said before one of the Harpies could jump again. “We have training to do.”

They didn’t agree graciously, but they did agree and soon nearly every occupant of the fortress was on the ground, grunts and groans saturating the air, the scent of blood and sweat chasing nearby animals away.

Sabin stood on the sidelines, once again simply watching the happenings. Torin had just texted him and was on his way down.

Finally the warrior arrived. Keeping a good distance between them, Torin stopped at his side. “Everyone’s been so busy, I knew calling another meeting would do no good, so I’ve been trying to catch everyone individually.”

“Find something?”

“Oh, yeah.” He waggled his black eyebrows, which were a startling contrast to his white hair. “Found an obscure tabloid article about a school for gifted children in Chicago. Children who can lift cars, get people to do whatever they want simply by speaking and move faster than the eye can see. And get this. The entire thing was denied by the World Institute of Parapsychology.”

Sabin’s eyes widened. “Hunter High. Just like our prisoner told us.”

“Yep. Can’t be a coincidence, you know?”

“We need to search that facility.”

“I agree. That’s why I’m making arrangements for departure in two days. Some of you need to go, but some should stay and search for the people listed on the scrolls. I just need to know who’s doing what.”

He’d been geared up to say he’d go—kill Hunters, rescue those kids and maybe finally draw Galen out of hiding—when the rest of Torin’s speech penetrated his mind. “Wait. Scrolls?”

A soft breeze moved between them, ruffling Torin’s hair. He smoothed the strands from his face with a glove-covered hand. “Cronus just paid me a visit.”

Sabin’s stomach clenched. “I tried to summon him, but he ignored me.”

“Lucky you.”

“What’d he say?”

“You know the drill. ‘Do as I command or I’ll torture everyone you love,’” Torin said in a superior, arrogant tone.

The impersonation was dead-on. “Yeah, but what’d he order you to do? Find people, you said?”

“I’ll get to that. You know he wants Galen dead as much as we do, right, since Danika predicted Galen will be the one to kill him? Well, the scrolls he gave me provide a list of names. Names of the other demon-possessed immortals. You won’t believe how many there are. There are blank lines, though, as if several names were erased. Weird, huh? Think that means they somehow died?”

“Maybe.” Only recently—through Danika—had he and the others learned that they weren’t the only demon-possessed immortals running around. Seemed there had been more demons in Pandora’s box than warriors in need of punishment, and so the remaining spirits had been placed inside the prisoners of Tartarus. Prisoners who were now missing.

“Anyway, Cronus thinks we can find our brethren and use them to contain Galen once and for all. They can help us lock him up, stop him from causing trouble.”

Sabin shook his head. “They were prisoners, which means even the gods couldn’t control them. We can’t trust them enough to use them. Besides, much as we want Galen dead, we all know how dangerous it would be to unleash his demon on the world. But what’s to stop these strangers from doing just that?”

“Point taken. And yeah, we’re merciful enough to allow him to keep his head for now, but Galen might not reciprocate in kind. These men are exactly the kind of creatures he would want for his army, which means we still need to find them before he does.”

Sabin knew they also needed to make Cronus happy. Bad things happened when the god king didn’t get his way. “We also have to find the remaining artifacts, and they seem a little more important at the moment.”

“We can’t find them if we’re overrun by immortal kids determined to destroy us,” Torin said. “So, first and foremost, we have to find that school and neutralize the threat. You staying or going?”

“I’m—” Sabin’s gaze locked on Gwen, who fell to her ass to dodge her sister’s poorly—and purposely, he was sure—aimed sword thrust. His hands curled into fists. Hurt her and die, he projected at the Harpy, though he knew the woman was caging the brunt of her strength. More than that, he knew he was a hypocrite for even thinking such a thing when he’d vowed not to go easy on Gwen himself.

If he went to Chicago, he would have to leave Gwen behind. She just wasn’t ready for battle yet. He could take her sisters with him, using them to safely gather the kids. Kids who would most assuredly fight him and the other Lords, since they had probably been raised to hate them. Or he could leave the Harpies behind to guard her. Neither option satisfied him. He didn’t like the thought of Gwen alone. Well, not alone, but without him. And he didn’t like the thought of unnecessarily scaring those kids.

Clang. Click.

The clash of metal against metal pulled him from his musings. Gideon and Taliyah were sparring, their expressions dark, serious. So far, it was a draw. Strider and Bianka were throwing punches at each other, and Bianka was laughing. At first, Strider resisted a full-out clash with her; he held back, pulled his punches even though losing to her would mean a few days in bed, writhing in pain and crying for a mommy he’d never had. Then Bianka broke his nose and kicked his balls into his throat. The fight was suddenly on.

Amun was finally up; he sat off to the side, polishing an ax and watching…someone. Sabin wasn’t sure who. Yet. He suspected it was one of the Harpies.

“Who do you have lined up so far?” Sabin asked Torin.

“You’re the first person I’ve asked.”

Before he could talk himself out of it, he said, “I’ll go.” War came first. “Get me five other warriors. I’ll try to get us a Harpy.” That would leave two sisters here to protect Gwen, while giving him a small advantage.

Torin nodded and was off.

Decision made, Sabin strode forward. “You’re babying her,” he snapped at Kaia. Not exactly the correct way to get on the woman’s good side, but he didn’t care. Gwen’s future well-being was too important for niceties. Sabin was only glad he wasn’t thanking the Harpy for her gentleness.

The redheaded Harpy swung around, tossing a dagger at his heart. “The hell I am! I’ve thrown her six times.”

Yes, and all six of those times he’d wanted to throw Kaia. Scowling, he caught the hilt of the blade just before contact. “You relax your elbow just before striking. You’re not teaching her the proper technique or even allowing her to learn your strengths and counteract. Hell, you’re showing her that fighting unfairly and winning at any cost is wrong. Just…go find someone else to play with,” he told her. “I’m taking over Gwen’s lesson. You’ve done enough damage. And if you dare interfere, you’ll regret it. I don’t care what you see, what you disagree with or don’t like, you stay back. This is for her own good.”

Kaia’s mouth hung open, as if she couldn’t believe someone had spoken to her like that. Then she was stalking to him, murder in her gaze, nails bared, sharp teeth gleaming in the sunlight. “I’m going to snap your neck like a twig, demon.”

“Bring it,” he said, waving his fingers at her in a mocking salute.

An earsplitting squawk suddenly erupted from sweet little Gwen.

Both he and Kaia froze. Even Taliyah and Bianka stopped their sparring to face Gwen as she crouched, sights locked on her redheaded sister. The whites of her eyes had already turned black.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Kaia gasped out. “I think she’s going to attack me. What’d I do?”

“Threatened her man,” Taliyah said coldly. “You knew better. I hope she claws her way to your spine.”

Her man. Just the words had him rock hard, and it was freaking embarrassing. He couldn’t allow her to hurt her sister. She’d never forgive herself. Sabin walked to Gwen, each step slow, measured. “Gwen, you will calm down. Understand?”

She snapped her teeth at him and almost nailed his chin. Only his quick reflexes saved him a severe biting. “Gwendolyn. That wasn’t very nice. Shall I bite you?”

“Yes.”

Okay, now he was harder than a rock. “Well, I won’t have anything left to bite if you don’t calm down.”

Somehow, that reached her. She licked her lips, eyes fading to normal, body straightening. A tremor moved through her, and she swayed on her feet. He didn’t touch her, not yet. He wouldn’t want to stop and they had witnesses.

A deep breath shuddered through her nose. “I’m sorry,” she said brokenly, reminding him of the incident in the pyramid. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have…did I hurt anyone?” Watery eyes lifted to him, the gold like the sun yet the gray like storm clouds.

“No.”

“I’ll—I’ll go back to our room. I’ll—”

“You’re going to stay here and fight me.”

“What?” Expression shocked, she stumbled backward. “What are you talking about? I thought you wanted me calm.”

“I do. For now.” He gripped his shirt and tugged it over his head, then dropped the material at his feet. Automatically her gaze lowered to his ribs, where the points of his tattoo stretched. “We’re going to fight. You’re not allowed to hurt anyone but me.”

“I’d rather study your tattoo,” she said huskily. “I didn’t get a chance to trace it in the shower, and I’ve been dreaming of tracing it.”

Dear Lord. Talk about the ultimate come-on. Rather than pounce on her as he wanted, he forced himself to kick out a leg, slamming her ankles together and sending her hurtling to the ground. “First lesson. Distraction will get you killed.”

Air shot from her parted lips, and she gazed up at him with disbelief. Even…betrayal?

Gods. Had he really done that? Harden your heart, asshole. Treat her like Cameo. Like her sisters. Like any other female.

She’ll hate you. She’ll—

Not another word.

But—

Silence!

“You tripped me,” she said.

“Yes.” And he’d do much, much more before they were finished. Had to be this way. He couldn’t show her any mercy. Otherwise, she’d never learn. Would never be safe.

Thankfully her sisters maintained their distance and didn’t try to stop him.

“Up.” He held out a hand, and she grasped it. But he didn’t help her to her feet. He jerked her into his body, rattling her brain and pinning her arms at her sides. “Second lesson. An opponent will never aid you. He might act like he wants to, but never, ever believe him.”

“Fine. Now let go.” She struggled, and he released her, letting her fall back to the ground. Immediately she popped to her feet, eyes shooting fire at him. “You’re going to kill me!”

“So dramatic. Toughen up. You aren’t human. Everything I dish, you can take. You know that deep down.”

“I guess we’ll see,” she grumbled.

For the next hour, he worked her over. Hand to hand combat, daggers. To her credit, she didn’t complain, didn’t beg to stop. She did wince several times, yelp once and twice he thought she verged on tears. His chest had constricted painfully at that, and he’d found himself pulling back, not using all of his strength.

Just as Kaia had done.

Pussy. That’s what he was. A disgrace to himself and his men. He was ready to quit, something he’d never done before. Something he’d be teased about for the rest of his endless life.

All of the Lords, all of the Harpies, William, Ashlyn, Anya and Danika were now watching avidly. Some were throwing popcorn at them. Some were placing bets on who would win. William was hitting on Gwen’s sisters—not literally. Gwen was shaking, her every strike tentative. She wouldn’t last five minutes in a real battle.

“You aren’t even close to hurting me,” he barked. “Come on. Make me work for it. I’m all over you and you’re taking it. Letting me. Almost welcoming me.”

“Shut up!” Sweat dripped from her face, and her shirt was plastered to her chest. “I’m not welcoming you. I hate you.”

Everyone he’d ever trained had said that at one point or another, but this was the first time he’d ever felt the words in his soul, burning, aching. “Then why haven’t you given up? Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to learn to fight?” he demanded, easily tripping her again. He wanted her to voice her reasons for pushing herself so hard. Maybe it would motivate her. “You could be hurt. By me. By Hunters.”

She went down, but quickly jumped back up, spitting dirt. Cuts and bruises marred her from head to toe. Her jeans had been ripped to shreds from her many tumbles.

“Hunters deserve to die.” She remained in place, panting. “Besides, I’ve already been hurt. I survived. I healed.”

Because of his blood. It was the hottest thing he’d ever done, giving his essence to a woman. He wanted to give her more, every drop. The craving had grown with every hour that passed.

Sabin scoured a hand down his face, wiping away grime. “This isn’t working.” She couldn’t take much more, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could dish. “We need to try something new.”

“The only thing we haven’t tried is unleashing my Harpy. Then you’d be sorry. She’s desperate to get her hands on you.” There was relish in her tone.

His eyes widened. Of course. “You’re right. If you plan to fight Hunters,” which he wasn’t sure he would allow anymore—wait, where had that thought come from? — “you’ll have to learn to summon your Harpy quickly. Which means you need to summon her now and train with her.”

Every speck of color in Gwen’s lovely face drained. She shook her head. “I was taunting you, trying to scare you. I wasn’t serious.”

“You might want to rethink this, demon,” Bianka called from the sidelines, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. “She hasn’t learned to control her Harpy yet. Piss her off, and she might eat even you.”

He turned, giving Gwen his profile. Part of him hoped she would attack him, prove she’d been listening and go for blood the moment her opponent’s attention veered. But she didn’t. Too softhearted, he supposed. “And you have? Learned to control it?”

Her lips curled into a smile. “Yes. Only took me twenty years, but then, I like that part of myself and Gwen never has.”

Great. He realized in that moment that he couldn’t leave Gwen when he traveled to Chicago, not even with two of her sisters guarding her. If she accidentally lost control of her Harpy, she could hurt the warriors who’d remained behind. He was the only one who seemed capable of calming her. Could he take her with him, though, and leave her somewhere while he traipsed off to war? Alone? Unprotected?

Shit. He was going to have to stay here with her.

Surprisingly, the decision brought relief rather than irritation.

“How did you finally learn?” he asked Bianka.

“Practice. Regrets.” The last was said with a hint of sadness. She’d probably killed people she cared about, even as Gwen feared doing.

He focused fully on Gwen. “Well, we’re gonna have to put you on an accelerated program. So let the Harpy out. She and I are going to play.”

“No.” Violently she shook her head again, even backed away from him, palms outstretched to keep him at bay. “No way in hell.”

Very well. He popped his jaw. This is for her own good. Do it. You have to. A deep breath, then, Doubt. Have at her.

Happy to finally get to work without restriction, the demon swooped on her in a single heartbeat. He had your sister pinned to a bed yesterday. She’s so pretty, so strong. I wonder if he wishes you’d never woken up. If he wishes he’d never fed you his blood to make you strong. I wonder if he’s imagining Kaia in bed with him even now, all that hair spread over his thighs as she sucks him dry. Maybe that’s why he’s pushing you so hard—so you’ll walk away from him, leaving the field wide open for your sister. Or maybe he hopes you’ll be so sore, you won’t protest if he decides to make another go at her. Tonight. All night.

One second Gwen was in front of him, the next she was gripping him, flying him through the air, forest buzzing past, a blur. After an eternity, his back slammed into a tree trunk, and breathing became an impossible dream.

Her teeth were bared, her claws ripping away his pants. He grabbed Gwen by the shoulders, not knowing whether to push her away or draw her closer. She was Harpy, totally and completely, her eyes a perfect night sky, hair feathered back from her wild expression.

“Gwen. We need to go back to the field.”

“Don’t move,” she said, her voice high-pitched, and then her teeth were deep in his neck and he couldn’t have moved to save his life. “You’re mine. Mine!”