The Darkest Secret

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

HAIDEE KNEW SHE WAS DREAMING. How else would she be seeing flashes of Amun’s life? How else would she hear what he was thinking? Currently, she saw him pacing through a sunlit bedroom she didn’t recognize, his hands alternating between scrubbing over his eyes and pressing into his ears as he fought to subdue the many voices chattering inside his head. Voices that whispered one human memory after another.

He could deal with them, he knew, but his friends could not. They had enough to agonize over and didn’t need to know the vile things people thought about them, the atrocities committed every day in the homes around them.

He shouldn’t have patrolled the city for Hunters tonight. Strider and Gideon could have handled the duty, no problem, despite their recent injuries. They’d offered; he’d turned them down, already sensing trouble on the outside and wanting to keep them safe.

Thankfully, he’d only found three enemy soldiers, and killing them hadn’t been a hardship.

The Hunters hadn’t planned to engage. Amun’s demon had sensed that right away. The men had wanted their female, their Bait, on the inside first. They thought she had succeeded, but they were waiting for confirmation. The moment he’d realized that, Amun knew he’d have to wipe one of the Hunter’s minds to find out who “she” was and when and where she would contact them. He’d have to absorb memories, perhaps even memories of mutilating his own friends. ’Cause yeah, he’d see through Hunter eyes, as if he was a Hunter.

“Amun, man,” someone called from outside his room. It was Sabin. “Chow time.”

He walked to the door and knocked, signaling he’d heard. Just as soon as he cleared his head, he’d join them. The memories were still unfolding, even though he’d already uncovered the information he’d wanted. The “she” belonged to Kane, keeper of Disaster.

The warrior rarely dated, too afraid of hurting those around him, but the human female had captured his interest. He’d have to be told. Amun would have to be the one to tell him.

Amun was always the one to break the bad news.

First, there would be denials. Then rage. Then sorrowful acceptance. But damn it, they shouldn’t have to live like this! They shouldn’t have to suspect everyone they encountered of using them.

For a moment, Amun’s image faded from Haidee’s mind and his thoughts quieted. She was shrouded in darkness and thought she might be lying down. What was that tickling her belly? she wondered.

Before she could discover the answer, those images of Amun returned, shifted. Now he was whaling on a human male, knuckles drilling into bone. The human was average height, on the thin side, and begging for mercy Amun refused to show.

Haidee didn’t have to wonder why. Like Amun, she somehow knew what this man had been doing to his little girl. And when Amun was done, when the man was dead, he used his demon to find the little girl a safe, loving home.

Images, fading again. Voices, quieting again. Seriously. What was tickling her belly? Whatever it was brushed whisper-soft heat over her sensitized skin. But again, before she could reason out what was happening to her, the images in her head returned, shifted and claimed her full attention.

This time she saw a shirtless, cut-up and bleeding Amun playing basketball with his friends. He was grinning, laughing silently and slapping each of his buddies on their backs between cheap shots.

The boys shouted good-natured insults at him. Insults he could only return with the lifting of a single finger. No one stuck to any rules, so there was lots of tripping, elbowing and even punching, and Amun loved it. No one could beat him because he knew every move everyone planned to make before they actually made it. Only, any time Strider went for the ball, Amun let him have it, even slowing his steps and pretending to stumble.

His past was as varied as hers, Haidee mused. But while she had always been a Hunter, driven by hate, he was so much more than a Lord of the Underworld. Which should not have been possible. A demon should be a demon. Evil, ruined. Amun cared, though. He uplifted.

He shouldered such a heavy burden. A burden he shared with no one because he would rather suffer forever than cause one of his friends to suffer a single moment more. That was love, not evil.

Love.

The word echoed through her mind. Maybe because she felt utterly connected to Amun just then, she couldn’t keep secrets, even from herself. She loved him, she realized. There was no denying it now, no questioning it. For all that he was, all that he’d been and all that he would be, she loved him. He was a warrior to his very soul, would always fight for what he believed in, would never buckle under pressure. When he cared, he cared deeply, intensely, and nothing and no one could shake that affection from him. Oh, yes. She loved him.

How did he feel about her?

She wanted him to care for her. Desperately. Because if they were going to be together, and she prayed that they were, his friends would be angry. Actually, “angry” was too mild a word. She doubted there was a word to accurately express the rage they would unleash upon him. But if he loved her in return, he could bear it.

How could she ask him to bear it? Even if he did, in fact, love her?

How could she ask him to carry yet another burden?

God, what a mess. If they were together, her friends—no, that wasn’t the right word. They’d never truly been her friends. Her coworkers would fume at her, too. They wouldn’t understand how she could adore a demon. They would attack Amun; they would punish her. And she knew that was exactly why Amun had pushed her away. He didn’t want her to suffer. Didn’t want her to have to “bear it,” either.

That bespoke caring, right?

What he didn’t know, however, and what she had to somehow show him, was that nothing would cause her more suffering than trying to live without him. For him, she could bear anything.

Perhaps he would one day feel the same for her. If he did, losing their friends wouldn’t be something to bear because they would have each other, could rely on each other, comfort each other…cling to each other.

They had shared each other’s blood all those centuries ago, creating a bond far more powerful than the hatred always simmering inside her. They belonged together; she knew it. She’d have to show him that, too.

Yes, she had loathed his kind for centuries. Yes, she had hurt him, and yes, he had hurt her. But that was in the past. Now, she only wanted to look ahead.

Look ahead. Again, the words echoed through her mind, and she was forced to face a hard truth. She couldn’t ask Amun to give up his friends. She couldn’t allow him to cut those friends from his life, whether he could bear the loss of them or not, whether he would cling to her or not. How could she expect such a thing? Those warriors had helped shape Amun into the wonderful man he was. He needed them, and they needed him.

If Amun would just give her a chance, she would do everything in her power to smooth things over. After a time, if his friends still couldn’t accept her, no matter what she did, she would leave.

So many ifs…so many possibilities.

Leaving would kill her, but for Amun, for his happiness, she would do it. All she needed was that chance.

Haidee. Wake up for me, sweetheart.

Amun’s deep voice reverberated inside her head, much louder than in her dreams, jolting her into awareness. She blinked open her eyes. Several seconds passed before she was able to orient herself, and when she did, she took stock. Muted light filled the cave. In the distance, she heard the drip, drip of water. She was sprawled flat on her back, practically…sweating?

Haidee, sweetheart. Can you hear me?

Amun again. “Yes,” she drawled. She stretched her arms over her head, back arching. The ground beneath her was soft, as if she rested on pillows.

Finally. Now look at me.

“Where are you?” Something tickled her belly again, causing goose bumps to sprout in every direction. Her gaze descended, and what she found left her gaping. A shirtless Amun was on his knees in front of her, her spread legs braced on his thighs. He wore pants. She wore panties. Only panties.

Both of his hands rested on her stomach, his fingers tracing designs around her navel, on her hips, just above the tiny patch of curls guarding her where she already ached.

“You have hands,” was the first thing she thought to say. She’d been so afraid, so uncertain.

His lips quirked at the corners, revealing an amusement he rarely displayed. Yes. I have my hands. I’m glad you noticed.

She’d stuffed his injured arms into the backpack, eased him to his back when he had passed out, and then she’d paced, checked on him, prayed, bathed, checked on him, prayed some more, cursed, checked on him and finally fallen asleep beside him. At last check, he had still been handless.

“How?”

The backpack, as you thought. Just took a while for everything to regrow. Now, enough about that. Do you remember when you woke me up with your mouth on my cock?

She gulped, licked her lips. “Yes.”

His eyes darkened and he flattened his palms on his thighs, as if he didn’t trust himself to keep them on her. His gaze drifted to her core, and a ragged breath left him. Good. You can’t dispute that it’s my turn to wake you up properly.

Meaning it was his turn to taste her…oh, yes, please, yes. Yet he didn’t lower his head. Didn’t make any other moves toward her, and every nerve ending she possessed went on alert, readying for his touch. Craving his touch.

“Amun,” she pleaded.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. First, he said, reaching back, you’re going to call Micah.

Wait. What?

He lifted a small black cell phone. I asked the pack for a phone that would reach the outside world.

“But—it’s okay.” She shook her head. “I don’t have to…not anymore, because I—”

You wanted to call him, and so you will. He held out the phone, forcing her to accept it.

She stared at the device for a long while, unsure whether Amun was trusting her or testing her. If she made the call, would she hurt him? Make him think she wouldn’t take him anytime, anywhere, without his meeting certain conditions?

As soon as you’re done, I’ll start. The sensuality in his tone left no doubt as to what he meant. Just know that by doing this, you’re giving up your friends. You’ll never be able to return to them. They’ll despise you.

Was he…giving her a chance? The very chance she’d wanted? “I know,” she replied softly.

They might even hunt you.

“I know that, too.”

And you don’t mind?

“No. I’ll have you.”

Oh, yes, you’ll have me. His expression became fierce. I thought I could let myself have you for a little while, but I know now that a little while isn’t going to be enough. I’m going to find a way back, and I’m going to keep you. Now, always.

He wanted her now…always; she almost couldn’t process the news. Amun, with her, forever. He hadn’t offered any words of love, and she wasn’t going to ask for them. That could come later. For now, this was enough.

So what are you waiting for? Make the call.

Maybe he was trusting her as she hoped, maybe he was testing her as part of her feared, but in the end, anticipation decided her. She dialed, shocked when the sound of ringing filled her ear. She wanted this over and done with, Micah out of the picture completely.

Her former boyfriend answered on the second ring, a snarled, “What?”

“Micah?” she asked hesitantly. Her gaze locked on Amun, gauging his every reaction. He wasn’t looking at her, was looking just beyond her, his expression now a blank mask.

“Haidee?” Micah sounded baffled, relieved and overjoyed—and still angry—all at once. “Where are you? Tell me. Now.” With every word, his emotions were overtaken by determination.

She experienced a pang of guilt. “Yes. I’m alive. But no, I won’t tell you where I am. I—”

“Are the bastards monitoring this call?”

“No.” Not really. “Listen, I—”

“Tell me where you are, then, and I’ll come and get you.”

“No. That’s not why I’m calling. I just wanted you to know—”

“I thought you were dead,” he interjected, once more cutting her off. Now he sounded accusing. “I mourned you. I tried to track you, tried to save you. Tell me, damn it. Tell me where you are.”

“No. I’m alive, and that’s all you need to know.” Except… “I really need you to listen to me. I—”

“Who’s that?” a female voice murmured sleepily from Micah’s end of the line.

There was a beat of static, then a shuffle of footsteps as if he was pounding away from the intruder. In that moment, Haidee knew that he was sleeping with someone. Might have been sleeping with someone else even while they were dating. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

Had he ever wanted her, though? With her, he’d been content to keep things mostly hands-off. She hadn’t wondered why because she’d been happy with the status quo. But if he hadn’t wanted her, why had he stayed with her?

“If you’re alive, that means you’re helping them.” She didn’t have to ask who “them” was. And he didn’t even address the fact that a woman had spoken. “Otherwise, they would have killed you by now.”

“Yes,” was all she said on the subject. Let him take that answer however he chose. “I just wanted to call and tell you that we’re over. I don’t want to date you anymore.”

Amun, she noticed, had tensed, his fingers digging into his thighs and probably leaving bruises. He had no idea what Micah was saying, no idea why she’d said yes to the man. Yet he wasn’t interfering.

He was trusting her, she realized.

“Now you listen to me, you fucking bitch,” Micah suddenly growled, and there was so much hatred in his tone she was momentarily speechless. “You tell me where the hell you are, who you’re with and what you’re doing. I’m going to find you and take back what’s mine. Then I’m going to cut your fucking throat and dance in the blood. You don’t deserve—”

Click. Haidee severed the connection before he could finish berating her, shocked, at last upset, and unsure what had just happened.

Amun’s gaze finally met hers. He didn’t ask questions, just took the phone and tossed it over his shoulder. Then, without another word, he lifted her hips and stripped the panties from her, pulling her legs in front of him, one at a time. Mouth set in a grim line, he tossed the panties beside the phone. He repositioned their bodies the way they’d been.

Tears suddenly burned her eyes. How could Micah have said those things to her? Fucking bitch. Cut your fucking throat. Bitch, bitch, bitch. He’d been her friend. Hadn’t he? And yes, she had expected the Hunters to turn on her, but not that quickly. Not that violently.

You’re that distressed to lose him? Amun asked, and though the words were soft, she heard the fury—and even the insecurity—behind them.

“No.” She was the one who couldn’t meet his eyes this time. “He—he called me a terrible name, said terrible things.” And she didn’t want Amun to ever think of her that way. Even though he, more than anyone, had the right.

Like what? What name?

Amun hadn’t been furious before, she realized then. Now he was furious. If Micah had walked into the cavern, Amun would have killed him without hesitation. “Do you think I’m a…a bitch?”

No, he answered without any hesitation. His expression softened, gentled. I think you’re perfect, sweet…mine. And now I also think he can’t be related to me. He’s an idiot.

“Really?” She swiped her watery eyes with the backs of her wrists. “You don’t think badly of me, I mean.”

Really. We’re together, now and always, remember?

“I remember.” The hurt inside her eased. She was with the man she loved. That was all that mattered. “Amun?”

Yes.

As she finally met his gaze, her heart skipped a beat. His expression was heated, his gaze heavy-lidded, his brows a determined slash. His lips were red, as if flushed. Did his blood race as swiftly as hers?

Wonderfully dark skin pulled taut over the muscles of a warrior. She couldn’t see his butterfly tattoo, but she vowed to trace every inch with her tongue one day soon. Between his legs, his cock stretched past the waist of his pants, the head already beaded with moisture. Her mouth watered. She knew his taste, would forever be addicted to it.

“I want you,” she whispered.

Then by gods, you’ll have me.

Yes. Finally, they were going to make love. The restriction she’d so foolishly placed on their physical relationship had been vanquished. But even if she hadn’t spoken to Micah, she still would have given herself to Amun this night.

Such a pretty pink, he said, gaze moving to her sex. So wet for me already.

Even his words were a turn-on. “I ache for you. There, everywhere.”

His hands slid to her inner thighs, and he spread his fingers, almost, but not quite, brushing her where she most needed. Soft. One finger, two, glided up her slit, and she quivered, whimpered.

Like silk.

She wanted those fingers on her again, gliding yes, but lingering, too. Pressing. She lifted her hips, silently beseeching. He gave her what she wanted—sort of. He traced between those pouty lips, and he did linger, but not where she so desperately needed. He allowed one fingertip to push past her opening, but not deeply. He pushed just enough to swirl and stoke her need higher.

Play with your breasts. Let me see how you like them touched.

Not for a single moment did she consider objecting. She plumped them, kneaded them, pinched her nipples while he watched. The heat inside her grew…grew… “I want you to take me the rest of the way now,” she gasped out. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. “Please.”

A long moment passed in silence before he nodded. He didn’t fall on her, licking and sucking and tonguing between her legs as she expected, thought she wanted, but leaned forward, pressing them together. Since her thighs were draped over his own, the action spread her wider, brought her core into contact with his pant-clad erection, rubbing, creating the most delicious sense of friction between her legs and on her breasts. Her nipples rasped his chest.

“I thought you were going to…”

I am. First, though, I’m going to prepare you.

She gasped, hands sliding around his neck, nails sinking into his back. His head lowered, and his mouth opened up on one of her nipples. The heat was nearly unbearable, so much greater than what swirled inside her, but so necessary she didn’t even think about trying to shove him away. Then he was at last licking and sucking and tonguing her there, shooting startling sensation after startling sensation through her entire body.

She knew he was a big man. How could she not? He probably outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds and was nearly a foot taller than she was. But just then, the width of his shoulders practically engulfing her, she felt almost…dainty.

“Take off your pants,” she managed to gasp out as she arched against him. Sweet heaven, that felt good. “Let me feel all of you.”

No. Moment I do, I’ll be inside you.

“That’s the point. I’m prepared, I swear.”

We’re taking our time, woman. Get used to the idea.

She loved that he could talk to her and continue tormenting her nipple at the same time. And he did. Torment her. His teeth scraped the sensitive bud, but then he would quickly kiss away the sting.

When she was writhing against him, begging him for more, he gave her other nipple the same treatment. Hours seemed to pass as he contented himself with her breasts, plumping them, kneading them as she had done, never ceasing to bathe her nipples in the wet heat of his mouth.

You’re so beautiful, he said.

“Amun, please. More.”

You’re so strong and brave. And mine. Did I tell you that already? Mine.

“Yours,” she croaked. She tugged at his hair, forcing him to raise his head or lose a handful of strands. Onyx eyes shimmered, lines of tension branching from them. He wasn’t as relaxed as he would have her believe. “Kiss me. I need your taste in my mouth.”

With a moan, he surged up, curling her body higher, tighter, and crushed their lips together. His tongue immediately pushed inside to roll and mate with hers. He tasted of mint and something sweet. Something uniquely his own.

He released her legs to cup her face, and she locked her ankles around his back. She slid herself against the thickness of his erection, probably wetting his clothes, but she didn’t care. Her need was too strong, and just as she’d kissed him the other times, her mind became focused only on climax.

Soon he lost his pretend nonchalance, his movements becoming jerky, his arousal slamming against her, grinding into her, ringing gasp after gasp out of her mouth. He swallowed every one of those gasps before angling her head, allowing his tongue to thrust as hard and deep as she wanted his cock to thrust.

Only with him had she ever felt feverish, burning, the heat of him continuing to pulse inside her, spreading, consuming. Somehow, that freed the chill she’d managed to hide. In seconds, she was a writhing cauldron of both fire and ice, thoughts fragmenting, muttering incoherently.

“Please,” she might have said. She needed to be filled, needed some kind of release. This was too much, not enough, and her heart couldn’t take much more. “Please, baby.” She rubbed her legs up his sides, squeezing him, encouraging him. She tangled her hands in his hair, she scratched at his back, probably drawing blood. “Please. Give me more.”

He pulled away from her, and she groaned. He didn’t disappoint her, though. He finally, blessedly, oh, so sweetly, licked between her thighs. Her cry of delight pierced the passion-scented air, and her hips shot up, drawing him closer. Over and over he licked, nibbled, sucked.

I could do this forever, sweetheart.

“Forever.”

I’ll never get enough.

“Never.” She knew she was only repeating part of what he said, but she couldn’t help herself. Couldn’t concentrate on anything but the pleasure. But always, she maintained a sharp hold on her inner chill, never allowing the ice to seep to the outside, to Amun.

He pushed her to the brink, and then, with one swirl of his tongue, he pushed her over. She screamed her release, bucking against him, unable to still for a long while. When her tremors eased, she sagged against the ground, panting. She realized then that her body had gotten what it needed—for now—but her mind had not. The ice, still churning inside her… Her mind wouldn’t be completely satisfied until she gave Amun everything.

He flipped her over, and the swift action startled her. Before she could gasp, he was kissing her back. Her tattoos. Laving them with his tongue as she’d wanted to do to his. He was offering absolution, apologizing for what she’d lost in the most basic way. And oh, God, tears filled her eyes.

I’ve imagined taking you in every position, but this first time, I want you facing me. Looking at me. Seeing me. He turned her back over. So open your eyes, sweetheart, and I’ll give you all that I am.

She hadn’t realized she had squeezed her eyelids closed. She pried them apart and peered up at the man who had won her heart. He had straightened, was now merely staring down at her. Sweat dripped from his forehead. The moment their gazes met, he reached between their bodies. His knuckles brushed her sensitized clitoris as he unfastened his pants, and she again bucked wildly, already needing more, already verging on desperate.

She wanted total satisfaction this time.

He didn’t waste a single second shoving his pants off. They were open, and as he’d promised, he lost track of everything else. The thick head of his cock probed her entrance, seeking full penetration. Except, still he held back.

His white teeth were chewing on his bottom lip. His sweat began dripping off him and onto her. You’re mine, Haidee, all mine. I’ll take care of you…always…won’t risk you…don’t think you can get…pregnant…no worries… Just let me…

He was trying to reassure her, she knew, but she was past the point of caring. “Do it. Please, do it. I need you. Have to have you. All of you. Dying without you. Please, Amun, please. Let me give all of me, too.” He could take it. Please, God, let him be able to take it.

Before she could finish her prayer, Amun slammed all the way home, and she arched up to meet him, to drive him so deep they might never be able to part. Haidee released another scream, her relief so potent she couldn’t keep it contained. She’d waited for this moment forever, it seemed.

She hadn’t been with a man in a long, long time, and she had never been this aroused, this willing to break apart and reform into someone new. To experience every sensation, nothing held back.

“Everything,” she said, a promise.

Everything, he agreed, a vow.

Then he was kissing her, and he was in her mouth, her blood, her bones, her soul. And yet that still wasn’t enough. She wanted to be inside him, too, a part of him always.

Mine, you’re mine.

“Always.”

He began to move, pounding forward, withdrawing, pounding forward again. Stretching her, burning her up, catching her on fire. Driving her higher and higher, toward that edge of insanity. She thrashed and she clung to him, almost afraid to fall this time.

Let go, sweetheart.

“The cold…” It was there, waiting.

Let go. I don’t care what happens. I need you. All of you, just as you vowed.

She heard the strain in his voice, knew he was near the edge, as well. And so she did it. She finally let go. She trusted him completely, opened herself up totally and let down her guard inexorably.

Instantly satisfaction slammed into her with the same ferocity that Amun did. Her body splintered, flew to the heavens, stars winking behind her eyes as she lost sight of his beautiful face. All the while, the fire spread…hotter and hotter… All the while, the ice stormed…colder and colder…

Amun trembled and bucked against her as wildly as she bucked against him, and then he was roaring, loud and long, coming, coming, coming so hard. She thought distantly that her body had been starved for him, was now drinking from him, and she might never be thirsty again. Would probably be sated forever. But still the fire spread, hotter and hotter. The ice, though, was fading, no longer storming inside her—because it was seeping into Amun.

At first, she loved the heat. Welcomed it, wanted more and tried to get it, pulling every bit she could from Amun’s body while giving him the ice, unable to stop herself. Soon, though, he was gasping, groaning, shoving away from her and severing contact.

Even without his touch, however, it was too late for her. She felt bathed in flames, no hint of ice left.

She screamed in pain, in agony, not knowing what to do. The flames should have lit her up, blazed bright, but they somehow surrounded her in darkness, darkness she couldn’t find her way out of.

She was dying. She had to be dying. That was the only time she’d ever battled such darkness and pain.

Sweetheart, oh, gods, sweetheart. What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong. His hands smoothed over her face, and for once, it was not heat she felt from him. He was as cold as a meat locker, and she was envious.

I don’t know what’s wrong, she wanted to shout, but her jaw was locked together, the pain knotting her muscles and preventing her from moving, even in the slightest way.

Somehow, Amun heard her and replied. I don’t know, either, sweetheart.

Help me. Please. Any more and she really would die. Just then, she wanted to die.

I’ll find a way. I swear to the gods I’ll find a way.

The vow was the last thing she heard from him. The darkness thickened until she could see the slick texture of it, the evil that oozed from it. Like black oil, coating her…destroying her.

Demons, she realized with a moan. The demons—his demons—were now a part of her.