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Paris swung an arm over the wide expanse of Lucien's shoulders. "My man here did a little something called flashing." He proceeded to explain how Lucien could enter the spirit world and travel from one location to another in the blink of an eye. "Learned it a few years after we arrived in Buda."

Before then, he hadn't had enough control over the demon to master the ability.

Strider nodded, clearly impressed. "Cool skill. But why didn't you just flash all of us?"

Again, Paris answered for him. "Last time he spread the flashing love, Reyes threw up all over his shirt. I never laughed so hard in my life. Lucien, though, has no sense of humor and vowed never to take us again."

"I'm surprised you didn't mention the part where you fainted," Lucien said wryly.

Strider chortled. "Oh, man. You fainted? What a baby! Shit, look at that view," he added with barely a pause, catching sight of the terrace. "Reminds me of Olympus."

"Hey," Paris said, frowning at Lucien. "I told you I hit my head midflash."

"That doesn't make you any less of a baby," Strider tossed over his shoulder. He braced his arms on the balcony frame and leaned forward. "No matter how many times I see this place, it feels like the first time."

Paris wasn't letting the subject drop. "Let's see your reaction to a flash, Defeat. I bet you—"

"Stop," Lucien interjected with a raised hand. Paris knew better than to issue any type of challenge to Strider. Once the man entered into a competition, be it a knife fight, boxing or even the human game he and Paris liked to play, Xbox, he could not lose without suffering intense, debilitating pain. Needless to say, he did anything necessary to win at everything. "We have work to do."

"Work sucks," Gideon said.

Lucien ignored him. "We need to better secure the building in case any Hunters managed to follow us. After that, we'll prepare for our outing tomorrow."

They had the first done in an hour, placing sensors on the windows and around the building. They were sweating when they reentered the living room.

"I had Torin look a few things up before we left," Paris said, digging weapons from his boots and placing them on the nearest tabletop. "He thinks the temple we're going to search is the Temple of the All Gods. Ever heard of it?"

Lucien shook his head. Anya had not mentioned names. Anya… He ran his tongue over his teeth, his blood heating. In arousal for the woman, in fury at the god who wanted her dead.

"What do you think we'll find?" Strider asked, his features pensive as he peered at Lucien. "And why the hell do you now look capable of murder? These last few weeks the only expression you've given us was bored. I mention the temples and hello, demon."

The others whipped to face Lucien and were obviously shocked by what they saw. "Hopefully we'll find the box," he said, disregarding the other question. "Or at least a clue as to its whereabouts." Unfortunately, he would have to deal with Anya while looking. Anya. Fighting. Dying. Dead.

"Shit. His eyes are red. I've never seen that happen to him before." Paris.

"I remember what he was like back in the demon days, and it wasn't pretty." Strider. "Should we, I don't know, chain him?"

"Yeah, that'll be fun," Gideon said.

"Give me a minute, and I'll be fine." Before they could do anything, Lucien flashed back to Antarctica, right into the frigid water. He gasped, suddenly chilled to the bone. Yet while the icy liquid helped cool the fierceness of his anger, it did little to quench his desire for the woman currently taking up prime real estate inside his head.

He was beginning to think nothing could.

CHAPTER FIVE

ANYA STAYED AWAY FROM Lucien for twenty-four hours. By the end, she seethed with nervous energy, constantly wondering if he'd appear. Every unexplained noise made her jump. Made her gasp. Made her heart kick into overdrive.

She'd paced the floors of her beach home, had tried to watch a movie but couldn't even recall what disc she'd shoved into the DVD player, and then had locked herself in her favorite room. Her treasure room. Usually rifling through the things she'd stolen over the centuries delighted her. Today, not so much.

She'd draped herself in Queen Elizabeth's jewels and played darts with King George V's dagger. She'd sipped strawberry-kiwi juice from an Episcopal chalice and drawn a mustache on the original Mona Lisa. Having spent a little time with Leo, she knew he wouldn't have minded.

What would Lucien think of her treasures? she wondered. Would he stumble back, horrified by the glittering sea of contraband? Probably. He was such a downer sometimes. Or maybe he would have understood, she thought, hopeful. Maybe, after battling his demon for so long, he would have realized that theft was her way of protecting humans from the darker side of her own nature. Well, that, and she liked pretty things.

Anya sighed and returned to the glistening sand outside. He isn't coming, she thought with disappointment, staring into the pristine ocean waves. The sun had long since set, then risen, then set again. Now violet and amber glowed on the horizon, glinting off the azure water. Sand squished between her bare toes, and coconut and orchids scented the air.

She'd both fought Lucien and kissed him here, the most action she'd seen in hundreds of years, so was loathe to leave. Was it dumb to miss him?

"Probably," she muttered, flinging sand with a flick of her ankle.

A little while ago, she had donned a skimpy sapphire bikini with ties on each side of her waist. If he had returned as she'd anticipated, they would have rumbled hardcore and one of her breasts might have "accidentally" popped out. He would have started sweating, the fighting would have turned to loving and they would have kissed again.

They would have touched again.

She sighed. Not going to happen. The gentle breeze whisked a strand of pale hair over her eyes. She hooked it behind her ear and frowned. What was he doing? Did he miss her? Even a little?

Was he plotting the best way to kill her, even now?

The bastard was probably happy to be away from her. "And that just won't do."

Her eyes narrowed as her hands tightened into fists. If he wouldn't come to her, she'd just have to go to him.

HUNTERS HAD BEATEN THEM to the Temple of the All Gods.

The tiny island had only begun to rise from the sea a few weeks before, and so far, the rest of the world did not seem to know about it. Not even with their satellites and other technology. Therefore, Hunters should not have known about it.

Who, then, had told them?

What Lucien knew, he knew because of Anya. When she had helped Maddox, she had helped them all by revealing the location of the ruins and explaining the new gods' intention for them: to bring the world back to the old ways of worship and blood sacrifice. Had she told the Hunters, as well?

Perhaps she'd done so to spite him, he thought. He'd tried to kill her, after all.

And a worse attempt I've never seen. Disgraceful!

His jaw locked in irritation. Now is not the time to think of her.

When is a good time?

Later.

He could almost hear Death clapping happily in his mind, and he didn't think it was because the demon was eager to take Anya's soul. He didn't understand why the demon cared to see her, but he had no time to reason it out.

The Hunters were camped in the surrounding foliage and they had to be disposed of quickly, surely. Once, he had turned away from this war. Once, but not again. Everything the Hunters did, every move they made, was meant to harm and destroy his friends.