The Darkest Whisper

CHAPTER 8

“I want a room of my own.”

“No.”

“Just like that? No hesitation?”

“That’s right. You’re staying here.” The words with me weren’t said, but then, he didn’t have to say them. His meaning was clear. “I haven’t lived in Buda long, haven’t stayed in this room much, but it’s mine.” As are you. Again, unsaid but there.

Gwen sat on the edge of an unfamiliar yet opulent bed in an unfamiliar yet terrifyingly masculine bedroom in an unfamiliar yet massive fortress with a very familiar yet fascinating man she had kinda sorta kissed and wanted to kiss again but couldn’t because he wanted nothing to do with her. And really, it wasn’t her that craved the kiss but the Harpy. At least, that’s what she told herself. The Harpy liked dangerous and dark, and demonic Sabin certainly fit the bill.

Gwen liked staid bordering on boring.

She watched as the completely unstaid Sabin unpacked his bag, his movements as stiff as his tone had been. His distance is for the best, she told herself. For the Harpy’s benefit, of course. Kissing the intoxicating and infuriating Sabin again would not have been wise. He was too intense, too much a mystery for her peace of mind. But damn, he was sexy—the act of unpacking, even as torqued as he clearly was, practically foreplay. The way his muscles moved…

Stop watching him. Not like you can start a relationship with him. Who’d said anything about starting a relationship? As afraid as she was of her dark side, Gwen had always been the get-in-get-what-you-want-and-get-out type of girl. Her six-month commitment to Tyson had been an anomaly.

What was Tyson doing now? Was he with someone else? Married, even? And how would she feel if he was? Did he ever think of her? Ever wonder where she was or why she’d been abducted? She should probably call him.

Mind on the task at hand. “Why do I have to share your room?” she asked Sabin.

“Safer this way.”

For who? Her? Or his friends? The thought depressed her. Oh, it was good that the men feared her. They’d leave her alone. But demons finding her too lethal to hang with? It should have been laughable. “I already promised to stay in Budapest. I’m not going to run.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Her eyes narrowed on him, her lashes fusing together. His clipped replies were annoying. “Do you have a girlfriend like the others? A wife?” Bitch, she couldn’t help but think. “I’m sure she’ll have something to say about this situation.”

“I don’t. And if I did, it wouldn’t matter.”

She gaped at him, positive she had misheard. “Wouldn’t matter? Why? Your girlfriends aren’t worthy of your kindness or consideration?”

His knuckles were tight around a velvet bag of…throwing stars? They clanged together ominously as he walked them to a chest and locked them inside. A second velvet bag he left anchored at his waist. “I’ve never cheated on a lover. I’m faithful, always. But the war comes before anyone’s feelings. Every time.”

Wow. Battle before love. Without a doubt, he was the most unromantic male she’d ever met. Even more so than her great-grandfather, who had laughingly burned her great-grandmother to death after she’d given birth to Gwen’s grandmother. Gwen’s head tilted to the side as she studied Sabin more intently. “Would you cheat on your girlfriend if it helped you win the war?”

Back at his suitcase, he lifted a pair of combat boots. “What does that matter?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Then yes.”

She blinked in surprise. One, he hadn’t sounded apologetic. Two, he hadn’t hesitated. “Yes, as in you would?”

“Yes. I would. If cheating meant gaining a victory, I would cheat.”

Double wow. His honesty…depressed her. He was a demon, but she’d somehow expected—wanted? — more from him. No way would she be able to date a man who might cheat. Not that she planned to date Sabin.

Gwen wanted to be the one and only. Always. Sharing had never been easy for her; it went against every instinct she and the others of her race possessed. That’s why she’d finally pushed past her fears and accepted a relationship with Tyson.

To her knowledge, he had been faithful to her. The sex had been good, if tame, because, while she might have convinced herself she could handle a relationship, she’d known losing herself to pleasure would be disastrous. He’d loved her, at least, and she thought she’d loved him. Now, thanks to all these months apart, she realized she’d only loved what he’d represented: normalcy. Plus, they were very similar. He worked for the IRS and was hated by his peers. She was a Harpy who despised confrontation and was pitied by her race. Similarity, though, was not a good enough reason to stay together. Not forever.

Gwen had a feeling she would be able to let go—somewhat at least—with Sabin. He hadn’t backed down from her Harpy either in the cavern or on the plane. And strong as he was, he could take more than a human. But even though he was both brave and immortal, she doubted he could take everything she dished. No one could.

Still, she found herself wondering what he’d be like in bed. Not tame, that much she could guess. He’d get down and dirty and insist on the same from his lover. How much could he take from her?

“So you don’t have a wife, but are you currently single?” she asked, the words a croak. She couldn’t imagine anyone being crazy enough to date him. Yeah, he was handsome. Yeah, his kisses alone would take a woman to the gates of heaven. But momentary pleasure with him would only result in heartbreak. Surely she wasn’t the only one to realize that.

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Just filling the silence.” A lie. It seemed she was full of them lately. She’d been—was still, despite everything—beyond curious about him, this warrior who had saved her.

“Nothing wrong with silence,” he grumbled, head nearly inside his bag.

“Are you single or not?”

“I liked you better when you were afraid of, well, everything,” he muttered.

She had been less timid around him than usual, she realized. Seeing the love his friends possessed for their women must have empowered her somehow. For the moment, at least. “Well? Single?”

He sighed, clearly giving up. “Yes, I’m single.”

“I can believe it,” she muttered. His last girlfriend had probably dumped him on his ass. “Well, that doesn’t mean we can bunk together. You’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep because I’m taking the bed.” Brave words. She just hoped he didn’t call her bluff.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be on the floor.” He threw several wrinkled shirts into the laundry basket beside the closet. A demonic warrior sorting laundry; now there was something you didn’t see every day.

“What if I don’t trust you to remain there?”

He laughed, and it was a cruel sound. “Too bad. I’m not leaving you alone all night.”

Not comforting. He hadn’t vowed to stay away from her, and he hadn’t claimed to want nothing to do with her sexually.

Did he?

And did she want him to?

She studied his profile, gaze traveling the length of his nose. It was a little longer than what was considered average, but regal because of it. His cheekbones were sharp, his jaw square. Overall, a very rough-looking face, with no hint of the boyishness she’d sometimes imagined.

His eyes, though, were heavily, almost femininely, lashed. She hadn’t noticed that before, she realized, but those lashes were so thick his eyes appeared lined in soot.

Drawing her arms around her middle, she tore her gaze from that intriguing face and focused on his body. All those muscles…Again she found herself fascinated by them. Veins throbbed in his biceps as he lifted a shaving kit. The black leather and metal links of his man-bracelet hugged the thickness of his wrist. His long legs ate up the distance to the bathroom. Hopefully he’d take off his shirt and she’d get another peek at those ropes of muscle. Maybe see more of that butterfly tattoo that stretched along his ribs and disappeared into the waist of his pants.

“Now it’s my turn to question you,” he said from the bathroom doorway. He propped a shoulder against the frame. “Why haven’t you run? Or tried to, at least. I know you said you didn’t want to face the unknown out in that desert. That, on some level, I get. But then you discovered our dirty little demon secret and still you stayed. Even said you’d help me.”

Good question. She had considered bolting for the woods the moment the plane landed, then again when the SUV had stopped. Then those human females had raced from the fortress, throwing themselves at their men, clearly madly, deeply in love, and she’d paused. The demon warriors had been gentle with them, caring. Utterly reverent, as though they were prized.

That, more than anything, had made her reevaluate her perception of demons.

These men were the complete opposite of what she’d expected, honorable in their own right (so far) and almost kind. They seemed to want to protect her. Better, they didn’t gaze at her with disappointment, blatantly wishing she were stronger, braver, more violent.

It’s the angel in her, her mother would tsk every time Gwen refused to hurt an innocent. I knew better than to sleep with him. Her sisters would come to her defense, loving her as fiercely as they did, but she knew they, too, considered her feeble. The truth always shone brightly in their eyes.

Had he known her, her father would have been proud of her, she thought defensively. Surely he would have applauded such benevolence.

“Well?” Sabin prompted.

“I could answer you the way you’ve been answering me,” she said now, raising her chin. I’m strong. I can stand up for myself. “Why haven’t I run from you? Because. That’s why.” There. Take a little of your own medicine.

Sabin ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’m not amused.”

“Well, neither am I!” That’s it. That’s the way.

“Darling, talk to me.”

The way he said the endearment…like a caress, a fantasy and a curse all rolled into a chocolate éclair. Stolen, of course. “I feel safe with you,” she finally admitted. Why she had opted for the truth, she didn’t know. “Okay?”

He scoffed, surprising her. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know me. But if you really are that foolish, why did you want your own room? Why question me like this?”

Heat burned in her cheeks. She was foolish. “Why does it seem like you’re trying to talk me out of staying when I’m here at your request? Do you want me to run or something?”

A single, clipped shake of his head.

“Then can you at least pretend to be nice? Consistently?”

“No.”

Again, he didn’t hesitate. That was really starting to annoy her. “Fine. But tell me why you’re nice one minute and cruel the next.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, as if he was grinding his teeth together. “I’m no good for you. Trusting me will only bring you pain.”

And he didn’t want to bring her pain? “Why do you say that?”

No reply.

“Because of your demon?” she persisted. “What demon do you carry?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled.

So again, no answer. There was no answer that would make sense, anyway. Except, perhaps, that he was lying and he really did want to bring her pain because he was a demon and that’s what demons did. Yet he couldn’t be truly evil. He genuinely loved his friends. That much was obvious every time he looked at them.

“Tell me again what you think I can do for you,” she said, just to remind him that he did indeed want something from her and she didn’t have to help him if she didn’t want to. “Tell me why you want to keep me around.”

For once he seemed happy to respond. “To kill my enemy, the Hunters.”

A laugh bubbled from her. “And you honestly believe I can do something like that? Purposely,” she added quickly, not needing another reminder of what she’d unintentionally done inside that cavern.

His dark gaze leveled on her, piercing with the sharpness of a blade. “Under the right conditions, I think you can do just about anything.”

Right conditions. Aka fearing for her life, aka pissed as hell. He’d do it, too. Place her in danger or anger her to the point of total loss of self. Anything to win his war. “What happened to teaching me control?”

“I said I’d try. Not that I’d succeed.”

Never had there been a better reason to try and escape him. He was far more dangerous than she’d thought. But she couldn’t leave now, when she’d only just realized that part of her did want to help him. Not to kill, she wanted no part of the actual fighting, but she didn’t like that there were men like Chris out there, perhaps preying on other immortal females. If she could play some small role in stopping them, wasn’t it her obligation to do so?

“You don’t fear for your life?” she asked. “If I give in to the Harpy, you might not live to gloat about the Hunters I’ve slain. Even immortals can be killed under the right conditions.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take. Like I told you, they killed my best friend, Baden, the keeper of Distrust. He was a great man, undeserving of the death they delivered.”

“What kind of death was that?” After what they’d done to her fellow captives, she could only imagine.

“They sent a female to seduce him, and in the middle of the act they ambushed him and cut off his head. But if you want a more recent reason, the Hunters blame me and my brethren for every disease contracted, every loved one’s death, every lie uttered, every violent act committed. They have tortured humans I was stupid enough to care for and they will do anything to bury me. Anything. Destroy anyone or thing, all while calling me evil.”

“Oh,” was all she could think to say.

“Yeah. Oh. Still think you won’t be able to help me?”

SABIN WAS UTTERLY RIVETED by the lovely girl in front of him. All that strawberry hair tumbling down her arms, spilling into her lap. Those golden eyes flecked with shimmery silver and shining brightly. That rosy color burning in those round cheeks.

More than her appearance, he liked this newfound spirit. Despite his earlier grumblings to the contrary. Strength was damn sexy. Especially strength that didn’t come naturally. Though she was timid by nature, afraid of him, this house, even her own shadow, she was sitting calmly on his bed, questioning him, head high, refusing to back down. She was truly a remarkable creature.

If she’s not the world’s greatest actress, that is. Doubt.

Sabin growled. Gwen wasn’t an actress. She’d been imprisoned and tortured by Hunters; she wasn’t helping them. You’re irritating me with your suspicions.

Maybe I’m keeping you and your friends alive. Better to be on guard than dead. After all, Danika came here under the guise of rescue while she was, in fact, feeding the Hunters information.

Sabin swallowed.

Let me at the Harpy! I’ll break her and get the truth.

He pictured Reyes and Danika as they were now. Happy, in love. Proof that bad intentions could morph into good. You’ll zip it. That’s what you’ll do. As for him…

He glanced at Gwen, knowing—beyond a doubt—that he wasn’t destined to have a fairy-tale ending like Reyes. Watching a man cut himself, a woman could get over. Losing all sense of self-respect, she could not. Gwen was already too close to that point.

What else had shaped her into the girl she was? Or rather, woman. She was older than both Ashlyn and Danika, after all.

He was curious about her, every little detail of her life. Family, friends, lovers. And she was curious about him, too, a discovery he liked more than he should have. Way more than he should have, actually. He’d wanted to answer all her questions, tell her everything, but knew the dangers of that. His self-directed irritation had made him snappier than usual. Snappier, but not any less aroused.

Just standing here, he felt desire heat him up from inside out. He wanted that hair tangled in his fingers, that lush body shivering beneath him, on top of him, her cries of bliss in his ears.

To stop himself from reaching out, he folded his arms over his chest, his shirt straining. Her gaze fell, locking on his left bicep. Damn. If she wanted him the way he wanted her, they were going to be in trouble. Lots and lots of pleasurable, oh, so wrong trouble.

Again his demon began pulling at its reins, desperate to get to her, to invade her mind and fill it with doubts. In fact, the whispers had already started: You’re not good enough, not pretty enough, not strong enough. It took every ounce of his strength to keep them inside his own head. If they reached hers…

He knew how to battle the demon and quash the doubts; she didn’t. She would crumble, just as the demon wanted.

Why couldn’t she calm his torments as Ashlyn had for Maddox? Why couldn’t she charm his dark side as Anya had for Lucien? Why couldn’t she curb the cravings for evil as Danika had for Reyes? Instead, Gwen roused the beast inside him to a fever pitch.

“I honestly don’t know if I can help you the way you want, but I do know I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, and there was genuine sorrow in her voice.

“Thank you.” How…sweet. He frowned. She needed to better protect her heart and her emotions. Hurting for him could do her no good. He paused. Now he was thinking like a boyfriend. Speaking of…“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Used to. Before.”

Before her captivity, he guessed. How had the relationship worked? Had the poor man had to watch his every word and action so he wouldn’t rouse her beast? “Do you miss him?” There’d been a trace of sadness in her tone.

“I did, yes.”

Okay, that…aggravated him. “Did he cheat on you? That why you asked all those silly questions?”

“Silly?” The pink tip of her tongue swiped angrily at her lips, and his cock jerked in response, imagining it elsewhere. On him. Say, midway down his body. “No, he didn’t cheat on me. He was honest.”

For some reason, the comparison caused his aggravation to spike. “I’m honest. I told you before, I didn’t lie about what I will and will not do. I can’t.”

One of her brows arched. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“Not going there,” he gritted out. Gwen might need to further protect her heart, but he needed to better guard his words.

“Telling the truth about your willingness to cheat doesn’t make you a better person than my human. Under no circumstances would Tyson have strayed. He loved me.”

Her human? Her human! “His name is Tyson? I hate to break it to you, but you dated a brand of chicken. And I wouldn’t be so sure about his sense of honor. I bet he was nailing tail the moment your back was turned. And if he loved you so much, why didn’t he try and find you?” Sabin inwardly cursed and pressed his lips together. The terrible words had not been his, but his demon’s. Since he had the bastard on a tight leash, not allowing it to seep into her head, it had decided to escape another way.

Gwen blanched. “H-he probably tried.”

Guilt and shame overshadowed any lingering hints of his annoyance. For all her bravado, she was still fragile. But really, this just proved his suspicions. A few measly doubts and she’d looked ready to crumble. He had to stay away from her.

Could he, though? He was drawn to her. He’d already arranged for her to sleep in his room. With him. Alone. Stupid! But it was the only way to guard her—from the others, from herself. And foolishly, he liked the thought of being near her. He enjoyed her. More than her beauty, she was witty—when she wasn’t scared and silent, anyway—and endearingly sweet.

He had to wonder if all Harpies were as tempting and distracting as Gwen. Guess he’d find out, since he’d promised to bring her sisters here. A promise he hadn’t wanted to make. At first. More Harpies meant more danger. More hassle. But then he’d realized that more Harpies also meant more weapons against the Hunters. Somehow, some way, he’d convince her sisters to help him destroy the men who had hurt their beloved sibling.

If they love her, Doubt said. Did they even search for her when she was taken?

Damn. He hadn’t thought of that. Gwen had been inside that cell for a year. They hadn’t found her, hadn’t saved her. Neither had that bastard Tyson.

His hands fisted at his sides. If the sisters didn’t want to help him, fine. He had Gwen. He knew firsthand what she was capable of.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said,” he forced out—apologizing sucked—and moved toward the door. “You want the room to yourself, fine. I can give you a few hours. Don’t you dare leave this chamber, though. I’ll have food sent up.”

She moaned in obvious pleasure, in want, but said, “Don’t bother sending anything up. I won’t eat it.”

He stopped, keeping his back to her. The more he looked at her, the quicker he softened toward her. “You’re going to start eating, Gwen. Do you understand? I don’t want you to think I’m like your captors, deliberately starving you.”

“I don’t think that,” she said stubbornly. “But I won’t eat. And you’re just leaving me here, where the demons can get to me? Where are you going?”

“I’m a demon,” he said, ignoring her other question. He was getting good at that.

“I know.” Her voice was hesitant, barely audible.

His stomach clenched. She knew, but it didn’t matter? More potent words had never been spoken. “I’ll be close by if you need me. Just call. Actually, I have a better idea. I’ll send Anya to sit with you. She and Lucien have had hours to…reunite. She’ll keep you safe.” And trick Gwen into eating if necessary. If anyone could convince someone to do something they didn’t want to do, it was the mischievous Anya. “Stay put.”

Only as he shut the door behind him, barricading Gwen inside lest she decide to risk bumping into one of his friends to explore, spy or even search for a phone to call the Hunters—she’s not working for them, damn it! — did he realize he was about to knowingly pair a Harpy with the goddess of Anarchy. Great. He’d be lucky if his head was still attached in the morning.