The Darkest Surrender

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE STUPID MAN WOULDN’T stop following her!

Getting away from Strider had been easy. Letting his demon “win” hadn’t. After dropping the Rhea bombshell, Kaia had requested a private moment to talk with him. And by talk, she’d let him assume she meant to kiss him senseless.

They’d stepped outside the bar, the cool air wrapping around her and freezing her already chilled blood. Then, before Strider could utter a word, she’d planted a swift kiss on his gorgeous lips—unfortunately not leaving him senseless—and challenged him to stay put for one hour. Oh, and he had to keep Sabin and Lysander by his side.

The savage fury he had radiated as she collected Bianka and Gwen and walked away…the way he’d tackled Sabin and Lysander when the two tried to follow…the feral way he’d fought them…

She would never forget. She’d almost turned around a thousand times, wanting so badly to beg his forgiveness and plead with him to join her. She’d used his demon against him, something she’d never wanted to do. And to do so after they’d kissed so spectacularly, when they’d finally turned onto the right road, headed in the right direction, gods. Only thoughts of Rhea and the goddess’s vicious nature stopped her. Kaia couldn’t keep her mind on the prize and protect Strider at the same time. Hunters could be lying in wait at the Odynia even then, ready to take his head.

At all costs, she had to protect Strider. She needed him more than she needed air to breathe. And he’d been softening toward her. Wanting more from her. He’d kissed her in full view of everyone. Kissed her down and dirty, like they were about to make love. Like he couldn’t get enough of her. Like she was a drug he’d been denied for too long. Then he’d called her baby doll and petted her like a treasured companion.

She had ruined everything by challenging him rather than talking to him, and the knowledge made her stomach cramp. But there’d been no time to explain or convince him of the merits of her plan. Team Kaia only had twenty-four hours—nineteen now—to reach Rhea’s garden in the heavens, but to do so, they had to first reach the portal the god queen had opened.

With Taliyah and Neeka scouting ahead, Kaia and the rest of her ladies made their way to the wintry wonder-land of Alaska. Alaska, the homeland of the Skyhawks, and the location of the makeshift portal—a location chosen in honor of the first contest winner.

Their destination? A forgotten stretch of land between two specific mountains. They left no footprints, disguised their scents and stayed completely out of sight. Just in case another team thought to hamper their progress.

However, nothing hampered the determined men on their trail.

“We’re going to have to hobble them,” Gwen said, mist forming in front of her face. She hopped from the top of one ice-covered tree to another, strawberry-blond locks blowing behind her.

A suggestion from Gwennie, the nice one. “No,” Kaia said, jumping to a new tree herself, her wings fluttering beneath her white faux fur coat. That would cause Strider to lose and she couldn’t bear the thought of him being laid low, writhing in pain for days, and weakened as a result. It would make him an easy target for Juliette. “The portal will close at 8:01 tomorrow morning. We’ll dive through just before it closes, and then they won’t be able to follow us.”

“That’s risky,” Bianka said from directly behind her. The limb swayed under their combined weight. Slight though it still was. “We might be too late to enter ourselves and we can’t afford to be disqualified from a competition. If we are, we’ll be out for good with no hope of winning third place, much less first prize.”

Damn it. Consorts were supposed to make life easier, not more complicated. Kaia paused, scrubbed a hand down her chilled face, suddenly so weary she just wanted to collapse. She hadn’t slept in days, not really. First she’d been too busy healing, and then she’d been too busy worrying about possible sneak attacks. “Can you think of any other way to pull this off without hurting our men?”

There was a whistle of air, unnatural, causing her ears to twitch. It was a sound Kaia recognized very well, and dread washed through her.

They were about to be ambushed.

“Duck!” she shouted, tugging Bianka down with her. The branch shook, but just over their heads, an arrow embedded in the trunk. The scent of avocado and salt hit her nose and she cringed.

“I broke a goddamn nail!” Gwen shouted, more pissed than Kaia had heard her since her bridezilla days.

Kaia sniffed the air, discovered remnants of sweat and fear. Harpies had not loosed that arrow; humans had. Though she would bet big money Harpies had paid the humans to do so. How else would they have known to use arrowheads carved from the pit of an avocado and dipped in salt rather than bullets? How would they have known that combined, the substances weakened a Harpy’s heart for weeks, no matter where she was hit?

Or, if not hired by Harpies, they’d been hired by Rhea herself, since Kaia and company were friends of the Lords. As one of the humans drew the string on his bow taut, Kaia caught sight of the figure eight tattooed on the inside of his wrist. The symbol of Infinity. The symbol of the Hunters.

With Strider, Sabin and Lysander nearby… Damn it. She didn’t want Strider anywhere near these sick bastards. And maybe that’s why the Hunters had been sent. Either to take out the boys, or to take out the girls dating them.

Not that they’d succeed.

“They were lying in wait, and you know how I hate when people lie in wait,” Bianka growled, dropping her bag of clothes and supplies. There was a puff as the heavy nylon landed in the snow. “Gotta do a little punishing.”

“Yeah.” In quick succession, six more arrows slammed into her tree, each closer than the last. She withdrew two daggers, found her targets, tossed one, then the other. There was a grunt, a scream. “Save me one, will you?” she asked, dropping her bag beside her twin’s.

“Hell, no. It’s your turn to save one for me.”

“Do it anyway and I’ll stop calling you the Heavenly Hills Ho.” Kaia blew her a kiss before dropping…falling…landing in a crouch with only the slightest jarring. Little snowflakes floated around her as she swiftly scanned her surroundings. She counted fifty-three Hunters, most still on the ground, bows cocked and ready.

“You fight dirty, Kye,” Bianka called from just behind her. “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

She chuckled, happy she wouldn’t have to control herself. More arrows peppered the trees, still far too close for comfort. Her Harpy squawked for release. Kaia didn’t even try to hold the little sweetie back. Her sisters knew what to do, knew how to stay out of harm’s way. Instantly her vision tunneled to black, little dots of red becoming her focus. Body heat.

Her mouth watered for a taste of blood.

These men would hurt Strider if given a chance, and so these men would die. Painfully. She grinned as she unfolded herself, climbing to her feet.

“There, she’s there!” someone shouted.

“I see her!”

A second later, arrows soared toward her. She watched them—six of them, moving so slowly. One by one, she caught them, looked them over and threw them down. They weren’t very fun toys.

“Well, did you see that? Impossible!”

Kaia leapt into action. One blink, and she was in the midst of the humans. She danced through them, claws slashing, fangs ripping. The sweet taste of blood slid down her throat. Soon, screams of pain and pleas for mercy echoed all around her.

Mercy? What was mercy? She knew not the word. The only word she knew was more. She needed more. More screams, more blood. She slashed with more fervor, bit with more enthusiasm. La la la, this was so much fun. Oh, look. She knew other words. So much fun. Bones made the most delightful sound when they broke. And when skin ripped, the most magnificent lullaby was created. Scream, scream, plea. Scream, scream, plea. La la la.

All too soon, the bodies stopped rising. The screams and pleas died. There were no more bones to break, no more skin to tear. No more lullabies. Kaia stilled, frowned. But…but…she wanted more. Why couldn’t she have more?

In, out she breathed—and caught the scent of cinnamon. Cinnamon equaled Strider.

Strider.

Her Strider.

Her sexy, irreverent consort who called her baby doll.

The Harpy squawked and, sated, calmed by Strider, retreated to the back of her mind.

Kaia blinked into focus. She was panting, she realized, sweat coating her skin. No, not sweat. Blood. Blood and…other things.

“Nice to have you back, sister dear,” Bianka said, slapping her on the shoulder in a job well done. “As promised, I pulled one aside and saved him for you.”

Kaia turned, saw the crimson snow, the motionless bodies—or rather, what was left of them. Humans had a saying. Mess with the bull and get the horns. Well, Harpies had a saying, too. Mess with a Harpy and die.

The only remaining—and living—human was pinned to a tree. He had an arrow protruding from each shoulder and ankle, and he quaked as Kaia neared him. Each step hurt her and she paused midway to glance down at herself. When she saw nothing out of the ordinary, save for the blood, she removed her now red coat. She had cuts on her arms, stomach and legs—and the tip of an arrowhead in her side. Shit.

“Shit,” Bianka echoed as she, too, noticed. “Let’s get that out before any more damage is done.” Her twin grabbed her bag, withdrew a pair of pliers, pushed Kaia into a sit and went to work, digging out every single shard.

The burn…Kaia wanted to yell and really wanted to bat her sister’s hands away, but she didn’t. She forced herself to concentrate on something else. Her team. She studied Gwen, who was pale but unharmed. There were two team members beside her. Juno and Tedra. One was scratched up, but the other was riddled with puncture wounds and swaying on her feet. She wouldn’t be fighting in the next competition. Damn it!

And hadn’t Kaia smelled cinnamon just a little while ago? Wasn’t that how she’d calmed? So where was Strider now?

“All done,” Bianka said, straightening. Worry layered her tone. They both knew Kaia needed Strider’s blood, or she’d be in bad shape later.

“Thank you.” Kaia stood and closed the rest of the distance between her and the Hunter. He was taller than her by at least five inches and probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds, yet the scent of fear wafted from him, acrid and potent. He’d had a front row seat to the show, after all.

“Please…don’t kill me…” he cried. “Not like that. Not like them.”

“I won’t,” she promised with a cold smile. “And in return, you’re going to do me a favor. Yes?”

“Yes.” Tears of relief tracked down his cheeks. “Please, yes.”

“Good. That’s good. Now, listen closely because I won’t repeat myself.” She unsheathed the dagger from her ankle holster and ripped a strip of furred cloth from her fallen coat.

“Wh-what are you doing? You said you weren’t going to hurt me.”

“No, I said I wasn’t going to kill you and I’m not.” Moving swiftly, she worked the crimson strip around his neck. “Are you listening? Good. Here’s what you’re going to do…”

STRIDER SCENTED THE BLOOD long before he saw the pools of it.

He’d been on Kaia’s trail for hours, his demon going crazy inside his head. Win, win, win. If he heard the word one more time, he was going to kill someone. Namely himself. Then Kaia. Seemed impossible, but he’d find a way to do it. He was that determined and she was that much to blame for this mess.

Except, as he sniffed to make sure he’d identified the notes correctly, he forgot about his irritation with Defeat, forgot about his anger with Kaia and thought only of her safety. Definitely blood.

He and Sabin shared an oh-shit glance and burst into rapid-fire movement, shoving past ice-laden branches and being slapped in the face for their efforts. Strider had his Sig in one hand and a dagger in the other, ready for anything—except to see Kaia hurt. Or worse.

Win, win, win.

Find her? Yeah, he would. Save her? Yeah, he’d do that, too. Lysander and Zacharel flew overhead and they must have scented the odor of death as well, because those long, graceful wings began flapping frantically, and they began a quick descent.

All four men hit the scene at the same time.

Bodies littered the ground. All male. Blood soaked the snow, evidence the humans had not died easily—but by the end, they had probably begged for that death.

Lysander walked the scene, sniffing, touching. “A few of the Harpies were injured.”

“Kaia?” he croaked, his heart skidding to a stop.

A terrible pause. “Yes, but she walked away. They all did.”

Thank the gods. His heart eked back into a semblance of a beat.

“These humans were tainted by the demon of Strife,” Lysander added. “Their minds were locked only on dissension.”

Rhea was possessed by the demon of Strife. And Rhea had opened her Garden of Goodbyes to all Harpies. To better destroy the women of her enemies? “Not the demon of Hope?” he asked, hopeful himself.

“No. This was Strife’s doing, no question.”

Shit. Strider’s job—protecting Kaia—was now ten thousands times more difficult. Not that he cared. He’d do what he had to do, even go up against the queen of the gods. “How can you tell?”

“Each demon emits a certain scent.” The words were said with disgust. “And the pungent stench of discord seeps from these men even still.”

“Our girls are in danger, then,” Sabin growled.

“We know.” But that was Sabin for you, Captain Jackass of the USS Obvious. Strider scrubbed a hand down his face. Now he was just being testy. Something else to blame on Kaia. Who was injured, without his blood to heal her.

“I will summon my angels to clean the mess,” Zacharel said.

His angels? “Not yet.” Amid the death, he, too, caught the hint of a scent. Kaia’s, to be exact. His sense of smell might not be as highly developed as Lysander’s, but when it came to Kaia, Strider was attuned to the littlest things.

Sniff. He followed the coppery odor and Sabin followed him. Sniff. Strider crouched and lifted a broken arrowhead. Blood coated the tip. He brought that tip to his nose and gave another sniff, this one deeper. Sure enough, Kaia’s scent was there. As Lysander had said, she’d been injured.

Having the evidence right in front of him did something to him. A red haze of fury dotted his vision. The thin shaft snapped in his hand. I need to hold her. Make sure she’s okay. And I need to hurt the one who hurt her.

“She’s fine,” Sabin said. “She walked away. The angel can’t lie.”

He heard a muffled whimper and every muscle in his body stiffened. Someone lived. He and Sabin broke apart, winding around a thick tree stump. A man—human, a Hunter, his arms pinned at his sides and turned to display his tattooed wrist—was trapped there, wearing nothing but a blood-coated bow around his neck. Furred, like Kaia’s coat.

A gift, then.

When the Hunter spotted the warriors, he began crying in earnest.

Strider stomped to him and gripped his chin, his dagger pressed against the man’s cheek. “You’re alive for a reason. What is it?” Wait. Precautions first. “If you dare try and utter a word of challenge, I’ll cut your throat before you can finish. Understand?” He wouldn’t put something like that past his Harpy. She was a wily little thing, determined to leave him behind.

Well, too bad. Rhea would strike at him the moment she spotted him, but he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t supposed to hurt her, because hurting her would hurt Cronus—literally—and Cronus would then eat him for lunch. Neither thought bothered him. He was going to be there for Kaia. Was going to shelter her from the god queen at all costs.

For the Paring Rod, yeah. For his demon, yeah, that, too. But mostly because he was desperate to finish what they’d started inside the bar. If he didn’t get that lithe little body under him, and soon, he would implode.

What happened to waiting until after the competition?

Stupid plan’s been ditched. I want her now.

“Yo-you are the one named St-Strider?” the human asked.

He gave a stiff nod.

“I’m—I’m supposed to tell you n-not to worry. The g-girls have everything under c-control.”

Sabin moved to Strider’s side. “That’s all?”

The human flinched. “N-no. If you follow them, if they catch sight of you, they’ll let themselves be d-disqualified.”

Strider and Sabin shared another look, far past oh-shit and now entering oh-fuck territory. If anyone was willing to cut off her nose to spite her beautiful face, it was Kaia.

“Thanks for relaying the message,” he told the Hunter—just before finishing him off.

He expected the angels to admonish him, but they remained silent as the human’s head lolled forward, his worthless life now expunged.

Sometimes, Strider let his enemy walk away, hoping they’d learned a lesson about the shades of gray between good and evil. This time, no, that wouldn’t be happening. The man had attacked Kaia. His fate had been sealed already.

The victory was mild and Defeat barely reacted.

“Come on,” Strider said, cleaning his blade on his jeans and jabbing it back into its sheath. “We’re not too far behind them.”

Zacharel tilted his head to the side in thought. “You are willing to risk—”

Strider shut him up with a glare. “We’re going. We’re just gonna have to make sure we aren’t seen.”