"Where should we look?" Paris repeated.
"I don't have all the answers, you know." This kept up, and soon the men would only respect her for her mind. Ugh.
"Anya," Lucien warned.
"What? I don't! Just have Ashlyn follow any rumors about giant, ugly monsters. That'll probably be Hydra. Oh, and she likes water. So maybe follow rumors about giant ugly monsters spotted near water."
The men nodded, and she was once more forgotten as they chatted amongst themselves about what supplies they would need, when they would leave and blah, blah, blah.
Anya sidled up to Lucien and ran her fingertip down his sternum. "We're going to have fun, you and I."
He had been telling Strider what he knew of South Africa, but his words quickly died. Eyes blazing, he whipped to her. What he meant to say or do, she might never know. She blew him a kiss and disappeared.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS HE SHOPPED FOR PROVISIONS he would need for his upcoming trip—intermittently collecting eighteen souls and escorting them to their final resting place—Lucien did not feel Anya's burning gaze on him. Nor did he smell her enticing strawberry scent.
Where was she? What was she doing?
Who was she doing it with?
His hands balled, knuckles throbbing, the joints so stiff they felt brittle.
He missed her more than ever. He had gotten used to her presence; nothing felt right when she was gone. Besides, he worried about her. Had Cronus tired of Lucien's halfhearted attempts to slay her and taken it upon himself to destroy Anya?
Now his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. She is fine. Cronus had been unable to kill her, which was why he'd given the task to Lucien. Anya was safe from the god king.
But time is ticking…
Lucien expected the bastard to arrive at any moment and punish him for his failure. Punishment was beginning to matter less and less, however.
He wanted to spend more time with her, and he was about to get his wish. Too bad they weren't heading for Hawaii. But Lucien had known Anya would follow him wherever he chose, so he'd picked the Arctic, the one place he'd thought—hoped—would cool his desire.
Because more than missing her, he desired her. Badly.
He was becoming obsessed with her. Lately all he could think about was stripping her. Licking between her legs, pleasuring her in every way imaginable and even some that weren't. Watching her face while she climaxed. Fisting her hair while she sucked his cock. Lately? Ha!
Even now, he trembled. Trembled like a damned mortal.
His long-neglected body practically sobbed for Anya each time she approached him. Forcing himself to walk away grew more and more difficult. And forcing himself to discourage her advances was even more so.
Stop thinking, finish shopping, he commanded himself as he stalked down the city's paved streets. He'd flashed from the island to Athens, and sunlight shone brightly. Last time he'd been here, all those centuries ago, dead bodies had littered the street and blood had flowed like crimson rivers.
He pushed the image to the back of his mind. The air was crisp and salty. He needed to enjoy this mild weather while he could. All too soon he'd feel the icy blast of the Arctic. With Anya.
Damn this! What would it take to exorcise her from his head completely?
Determined, Lucien made a mental checklist of everything he needed. A coat. Boots. Thermals. Thick socks. And gloves. He would have flashed to Buda and collected everything there, but the items he owned were meant for manageable winters. The Arctic was another story. He'd have to endure freezing winds and snow as far as the eye could see. Perhaps luck would be on his side and he would find Hydra quickly. He placed a call to Maddox and had him ask Torin to search any possible sightings.
What was Anya doing?
He didn't even try to stop the thoughts this time. Obviously, fighting did no good. Anya. In the Arctic. Alone with him. Perhaps finding Hydra quickly would not be such a wonderful thing.
Last time he and Anya had been together in the cold, she'd pushed him into the icy water. The memory shouldn't have made him smile, but it did. Anya, standing on that glacier, waiting for him, then shoving him with all of her strength, had been a beautiful if macabre sight. Even his testicles had frozen.
She had laughed, a tinkling sound of genuine amusement. Heady and seductive. He wanted to hear it again.
Gods, he admired her courage and her tenacity. Anyone else would have cowered at having Death hunt them.
Where was she? he wondered again. Had she finally tired of him?
As he passed a corner shop, he slammed his fists into the wall. Stone abraded skin. Whether Anya was tired of him or not, he would soon have her to himself, away from the other warriors. Hopefully he would learn more from her. Hopefully he would prevent her from learning more from him.
Hopefully he would better do his duty.
His clipped steps slowed, and he forced himself to take in the sights. Emerald trees framed most of the buildings, stretching overhead and casting shadows. There were no cars on the streets—those were prohibited—so people had to walk to their destinations.
Merchants were out in force, selling everything from fruit and vegetables to flimsy scarves to doorknobs. None of which would keep him warm in the Arctic.
"You'll never find what you need here," Anya said, suddenly keeping pace beside him.
His blood instantly heated as he glanced around, making sure no one had witnessed her sudden appearance. The only people staring at her were men, and he didn't know if they were shocked or simply captivated.
She was lovelier than ever.
Her pale hair was knotted at the base of her neck in an intricate braid and a pink ribbon circled over her ears. She wore a fur-trimmed coat and knee-high boots with a matching trim of fur.
"Where have you been?" he asked, the question harsher than he'd meant it to be. Finally she was with him, and that should have been all that mattered. She's where she belongs, his mind added, and he frowned. When she's by my side, I can keep her out of trouble. Nothing more.
"Oh," she said, waving a hand through the air. "Here and there."
Had she been with another man? His jaw clenched. Best not to allow his mind to travel that route, so he changed the subject. "Why are you dressed like that?" He wore a black linen T-shirt and slacks, and he was sweating.
"'Cause we're going to Switzerland, silly, and it's cold there. You, my friend, are way underdressed."
"Anya, I—"
"There's only one hour's time difference," she said, cutting him off, "so this is the perfect time to go shopping in Zürich."
He sighed. "Why must we go to Zürich to shop?" We. Damn the thought! He needed to think of them separately. Never as a pair. Too dangerous.
"Because it's snowy and I look good in white. Race you there!"
She disappeared, leaving a trace of her strawberry scent. Bereft without her, Lucien scanned the crowd a second time. Several people had noticed her disappearance, he knew for a fact, because several jaws were dropped.
The citizens of Budapest knew he and the others were different, if not to what extent, and for the most part left them alone. Protected them, even. Perhaps because the warriors poured so much money into the community. Perhaps because the people were afraid of what would happen if they didn't.
Still. Since leaving ancient Greece and the destruction he'd caused, he had been very careful not to let mortals see his abilities. He did not want rumors of his presence circling. He did not want the human media chasing him and the others, and he certainly did not want more Hunters after him.