"Very well." He speared a crisp green bean. "What would you like to know?"
She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her upraised palms. "Have you ever disobeyed a command from the gods?"
"No. But then, I was not ordered to do anything until the Titans won the heavens. The Greeks left us alone after bestowing Maddox's death-curse."
"Have you tried to disobey the Titans, at least?"
"Again, no. Not personally. But Aeron refused to kill those four women, and you have seen the results. Bloodlust has consumed him. He wants to kill everyone now. Even his friends. Maybe even himself. We had to lock him away, taking even more freedom than he lost when all of us were cursed with our demons. It's something we vowed never to do to each other."
"I understand," she said, suddenly seeming lost in thought. "Losing your freedom is a punishment worse than death."
"Yes." Lucien studied her, amazed by what he saw. He'd never seen this playful woman quite so serious. She must be recalling the time she'd spent locked away, perhaps tortured. His hands tightened into fists. "How long were you imprisoned?"
She shrugged. "Seemed like forever and I believe ancient scrolls say a hundred years, but it was more like two."
Clearly she meant to sound cavalier. She failed. "What did you do while locked away?"
"Think, pace, hurt. Talk to the man in the cell beside mine. He was a little cocky, but that was better than silence." She sighed. "Have you ever fought the demon of Death?"
His brow furrowed in confusion. Better confusion that fury at what she had suffered. "What do you mean? Fought it physically?"
"No. I know it can't leave your body unless you die or it's sucked out. I know it's trapped inside you and the two of you are one. But have you ever resisted its desire to take a soul?"
His entire body tensed. This was not a matter he usually discussed. Anya had revealed a part of her secret, however. He could do no less. "Yes."
"And?" Her focus intensified, her eyes like a laser beam on him. "What happened?"
None of the warriors knew he had once been in love; none knew he had watched his lover slowly wither away, her body rotting. "If I do not escort a soul, its physical body suffers untold agony. More than any person should ever have to suffer. More than Fate intended."
"Hit a nerve, did I? There's a muscle ticking under your eye." Rather than press him for more information, she ate the rest of the meal in silence.
As he watched her, the dark memories her questions had brought to the surface receded, replaced by desire. Take her. The words whispered across his mind. Maybe because every movement she made was more sensual than the last. Make love to her.
No. You are not a monster. Not anymore, at least. He could spend time with her, but nothing more.
When she finished eating, she stood. "Want to make out a little or just jump straight into the shopping?"
She had not removed the beige coat and looked toasty warm. More than that, she looked strippable. He wanted to be the one to warm her. "Shopping," he forced himself to say. But he did not stand.
She shrugged as if his answer hadn't mattered to her, and that irritated him. The irritation angered him. And the anger annoyed him. He should feel nothing.
"You can leave your weapons here," she said with a teasing grin. "Hunters never come up this way. Neutral territory and all."
"I do not remove my weapons. Ever."
Her gaze traveled the long length of him in a heated caress. "Not even to shower?"
His cock stirred as he imagined her in the shower with him, water raining over her naked body. "Not even."
"Why, Lucy. That's totally barbaric." She bit her lower lip and sauntered around the table, bending down to whisper in his ear, "But it's something I'd like to witness firsthand."
A fallen lock of her hair brushed his cheek, and he found his eyes closing in ecstasy. His blood suddenly caught fire, nearly raging out of control in seconds. Rather than kiss her as he so desperately wanted—stupid, dangerous…wonderful—he somehow found the will to rise and move away from her.
"You really know how to drag a party down."
"Anya."
"No. Not a word. Let's get out of here," she said, voice cracking slightly.
He was ashamed to realize his legs were shaking. He was so hard his cock actually hurt. One stroke, and he would come.
Anya didn't look back as she strolled to the front door. Opened it, left the apartment, expecting him to follow. He took a moment to breathe in and out, letting the cold air soothe him.
Every muscle in his body was clamped down, eager and needy for her. Only her. Even the demon seemed to ache for her, no longer purring but roaring hungrily.
Think of the artifacts, the box. Think of Hunters. Think of holding Anya's dead body in your arms.
That sobered him.
An angry whisper suddenly drifted past him. "I'm waiting, Death."
Cronus.
Lucien's blood chilled completely. Finally the god king had returned. Why here? Why now? Because your reprieve is over. The king had not materialized. What was he doing?
"You have failed me, Death. Over and over again, you have failed me."
"I am sorry."
"Liar!"
The boom of the word nearly burst his eardrums.
"You will not suffer for it," the god added quietly, "but your friends will. I'll start with Paris, sending him to a place where no women reside. I will prevent him from leaving and I will laugh as he weakens. I will laugh when he is forced to turn to other men for strength. And when I'm through with him, I'll look to Reyes."
Fight him, as Anya does. "You would kill them, then? Set their demons free to roam the earth in a crazed frenzy? No mortal will bow before you once the demons are through wreaking their havoc."
"Zeus might not have been able to protect the people from your demons, but I can. Do you wish to hear what I'll do to Reyes?"
Fight! "You would prevent him from hurting himself, I'm sure. Perhaps flood him with pleasure he is no longer equipped to handle."
"Do you dare mock me?"
"No. Nor do I wish to do that with which you have charged me."
"I am aware of that, Death. I am also tired of waiting. Which of us do you think will emerge the victor and receive what he desires?"
"What if—" Lucien pressed his lips together. Should he do this? Yes, he decided a moment later. He should. There was no other way. "Anya has something you crave. What if I procure it for you?"
For several seconds, there was only crackling tension.
Then, more calmly, Cronus said, "I will allow you to try. If you fail in this, you will bring me her body. If you fail in that, I will not be so lenient. I will do everything I claimed and more. And I'll make you watch while I do it. Now go!"
A great gust of wind shoved Lucien forward. Cutting off a growl, he righted himself and followed the path Anya had taken. He found her in the lobby of the building, alive and well, though Cronus was nearby. He had to get that key from her. Right now, it was the only way he knew to save her. If he failed…
His stomach twisted into a painful knot. He would not fail.
He allowed his gaze to scan the building. There was a huge fireplace with a crackling blaze in the corner. Beside it, a desk was manned by two males staring at Anya in open approval. Lucien scowled. Unaware of the mortals, or perhaps uncaring, she tapped her foot impatiently and studied her bright pink nails.
They'd been red yesterday. Hadn't they? Perhaps they'd been blue. She changed them every day, nearly as often as she changed moods.
Lucien hissed at the men as he strode past them, unable to hold the noise back. He was too raw to care about consequences. Too raw to care that being possessive of a woman like Anya would bring nothing but heartache.