“Stay back, Legion,” Galen barked, and the girl instantly scampered back to her post. He never removed his attention from Sienna.
What had he done to Legion to create so much fear in her? What did he planto do to her? No matter what, Sienna couldn’t let him hurt the girl. Had to find a way to get her to safety.
As if he read her mind, he said savagely, “She’s mine. You touch her, and you die—after I play with you a bit.”
Sienna glared at him. So many threats had been tossed her way lately, his was just white noise.
He licked his lips, bent down and sniffed. “You smell so good.” His words were beginning to slur. “ Sogood.”
She remained motionless, part of her wanting him to taste her blood, the rest of her repulsed by the idea. But this was it, the way she would control him, and as much as she despised Cronus for it, she was suddenly a little grateful. When Galen was under the ambrosia’s spell, Paris would be safe.
And then she would rewrite the predicted future, creating a fourth road. As she’d promised herself, she would kill both the king and queen of the Titans. There would be no locking them up, no mercy.
Another sniff, a shudder of pleasure and then Galen jolted back, stumbling to his ass. “Fox,” he shouted, crab-walking the rest of the way from her. “Fox!”
Damn him. Sienna drew on what modest strength she had left and edged toward him. Had to get him to taste. Had to… She reached out a bloody hand.
“Fox!” His eyes widened with horror when he hit the wall, unable to move as she inched…inched…
Footsteps behind her, a hard hand fisting in her hair, jerking her backward. So she was visible to more than just the master of the house, she thought dimly as her strength ebbed. Evidently Cronus had worked his magic on Galen’s henchmen, as well.
“Kill her,” Galen croaked. “ Killher.”
KANE KNEW HE WAS DREAMING. Why else would he see Amun and Haidee facing off with the two horsemen, daggers clanging together, grunts and groans filling the air? Why else would Haidee’s skin be changing to straight-up blue ice, her hair into icicles? Why else would William be buffing his nails as he leaned against a wall?
Why else would a beautiful female with long silver-blond hair cascading over one shoulder and eyes of the purest lavender be looking down at him, frowning, tugging at the shackles on his wrists and ankles?
Hell. Maybe he wasn’tdreaming. Maybe she was an angel. “Dead?” he rasped. After all, he’d willed himself to die, and maybe, finally, blessedly, his soul had left his body. Maybe he was free of his demon. Maybe he was being sent to that secret realm in the heavens where the deceased Baden and Pandora lived. A realm where the demon-possessed were to spend the entirety of their afterlife.
Baden, once his best friend. Once the keeper of Distrust. Aeron had spent a little time in that secret realm, had spoken to Baden, and even to Pandora, who hated them all with a passion that hadn’t dimmed through the centuries.
Aeron had escaped with his Olivia. Kane, however, did not want to escape.
“Dead?” he asked again. Even as he spoke, his brain flashed a neon sign into his awareness. Mine.
The female, surely the loveliest creature he’d ever beheld, said only one word. “No.” But he felt the force of her voice in every single one of his cells. Pure, enchanting, intoxicating.
Mine.A roar now.
Angels couldn’t lie, so he knew she had told the truth. Even though there was no actual layer of truth in her voice. So, if he wasn’t dead, he was alive. The thought didn’t please him. He hated that such a beauty was seeing him like this. At his worst, violated, injured, weak.
“Kill me, then,” he commanded.
Mine.Louder than before. He didn’t understand the possessive instinct, and didn’t want to understand it. He might veer from his current path.
Silence, such heavy silence. The calm before the storm. Because, in the next heartbeat, Disaster protested. Loudly. Screaming and screaming and screaming inside of Kane’s head.
No, he wasn’t dead.
Kane reached up to cover his ears, and succeeded. His arms had been freed from the chains, he realized distantly. That’s what the woman had done. Unchained him.
“No,” she repeated. “I won’t be killing you.”
Mine.
Shut up.He returned to his dream theory. This was a dream, only a dream, which meant she had to do whatever he wanted her to do. Right? “Kill. Me.”
Her hands slid underneath his shoulders and pushed him up, up. He felt her heat, the smoothness of her palms. Smelled the fragrance of patchouli, deep, rich and musky, erotic and earthy. Deep in his nose, clinging to his sinuses, spreading into his stomach, his bloodstream.
MINE.
A growl was rising up his throat, threatening to spill out of his mouth. His arms went limp and fell uselessly to his sides, and yet he still had to fight the urge to reach up and grab on to her. He wanted his mouth on her, wanted his body in hers.
He wanted…and so he would have.
MINE, SHE IS MINE.
The blonde—who was suddenly no longer a blonde, but a lovely black woman—no, a sultry Latina—got all up in his face, dark eyes piercing him. “I am not here to end your life, but to save it,” she said. “I will take you to the human world—and in return, youwill kill me.I’ll have your vow first.”
Disaster stopped screaming and started laughing again.
CRONUS WALKED THE CHAMBER of Futures alone, his emotions balanced on the razor’s edge of destruction. He’d searched everywhere, yet he hadn’t found Rhea. The Hunters he’d captured and locked away were now missing. Rhea had somehow freed them, he knew. And Sienna had not yet done her job with Galen.
If he had to raze the entire world to save himself, he would.
One way or another, he would obtain what he wanted. Dominion over the human world. Control of his wife. And life. Eternallife. He was an immortal, a king, the most powerful of his people—even if a few out there left him trembling.
He stopped in front of a vase one of his Eyes had sculpted and painted so long ago. In it, Rhea’s hated daughter Scarlet, the keeper of Nightmares, was in the process of removing his head. So, yes, there were two predictions about his death. Two supposed murderers. Two different places, in two different times.
Why?
He had never been able to figure out this particular mystery. Only one person could kill him, true? Unless Galen and Scarlet worked together? But the pair despised each other, fought for opposite sides. Proof: Scarlet had recently invaded Galen’s dreams and convinced the man of his own impending downfall. Those dreams had driven the keeper of Hope to attack her man, Gideon, which had enraged her further.
Cronus blinked as an idea took root. Could the answer be that simple? Had Scarlet somehow invaded his Eye’s dreams? Had she shown her a false reality? He and Scarlet had been enemies since her birth, and hurting each other had become something of a game.
Perhaps, he thought. Yes, perhaps. Which meant he was most likely on the right path. Galen was the biggest threat, and so Galen had to be corralled.
Sienna now knew exactly how ruthless Cronus could be to ensure his goals were met, and she would come through for him. If she failed, he would make good on his threat. Paris would die. And he would make her watch.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
A STAY OF EXECUTION, Sienna thought, but only because Galen’s bodyguard, Fox, had done what he had not and tasted her blood. As the woman had dragged Sienna out of the bedroom and into a cellar room boasting only a long table with a drain underneath it, she’d gotten blood on her hands. Sienna had made certain of that. She’d promised Paris she would kill whoever tasted her blood, and she would do her best to see that through.