Not only was it empty, it was clean, as if no one had ever been there. As if fighting and death had not taken place. Dread curled through her, blending with her already-raw emotions. "Where do you think William is?"
"Either heading home or on his way to the top."
"Let's see if he's at the top, shall we?" She withdrew the mask she'd stuffed in her pocket and tugged it over her face, then flashed to the crest of the mountain, momentarily stunned by the abrupt change in temperature and light. The cave had been cold, but this…this was misery. Ice and frost formed in her nose and lungs; her blood turned to slush. Wind whipped, cutting like tiny knives. There was only the barest trace of golden moonlight, painting the rugged peaks with an ethereal hue.
Lucien…had not arrived yet, she realized.
She frowned, looking all around. She saw no sign of William, either. Just as she was about to flash herself back to the cave, Lucien finally appeared. He was wearing his mask, but she could feel the intensified fatigue radiating from him.
Shit. "No more flashing for you," she told him firmly. It was draining what little energy she'd managed to give him.
"I'll do whatever needs to be done," he replied, his tone just as firm as hers.
"Damn it, Lucien!" He was more important to her than anything else in the world. She would have offered Cronus the All-Key right then, anything to save her man, but she didn't trust the bastard. Once the king had the key, he could kill Lucien just to spite her for making him wait.
She had to be careful about how she went about this.
Her new plan was simple: find the cage, then somehow hide both it and Lucien. Lucien wanted it, and so he would get it. It was that simple. She wouldn't give the cage to Cronus in trade. Not when he could use it to find the box and hurt Lucien. No, she would trade the key instead, just like the old jerkoff wanted. There was no other way.
It was only a matter of time.
She rubbed her stomach to ward off the sudden ache.
"I still do not see William," Lucien said, dragging her from her thoughts.
"I'm here," a voice growled.
Anya turned and saw a silver spike clutched by a gloved hand slap over a ledge and embed at the top. William hefted himself up. His entire face was covered by a white mask, blending him into the snow. Except for his eyes. They seemed to glow brightly, a blue as deep as the ocean.
"A little help," he snapped.
Lucien crouched and gripped his wrist. Maybe it was bad of her, but she'd rather William fall than put Lucien at risk for falling. Anya moved behind her lover and latched on to his waist, holding him steady. Together they dragged William's muscled body over the edge.
The warrior stood, shaking snow from his shoulders. He even hunched over, trying to suck air into his lungs. "Been years since I've had to do that."
"You should look into flashing," she offered helpfully.
Still crouched, he reached up and flipped her off.
She chuckled.
Lucien snorted.
"I'm surprised you didn't head home," she said.
"And give you more reason to burn my book or tear out the pages?" William straightened and his glowing gaze slid over the vast expanse of snow. There was nothing but blanket after blanket of white as swirls whisked on the breeze, like glitter in the fickle haze of the moon. Then his attention turned to Lucien. "You're looking well, considering your recent injuries."
"Where could a monster hide in this?" Lucien asked, ignoring the compliment.
"She could be a chameleon," Anya suggested. "She could be the color of snow and we could be standing on her right now."
Everyone looked down. A few minutes passed, and nothing happened. There was a collective sigh of disappointment.
William focused on her, opened his mouth, closed it. Seeing the weapon strapped to her back and peeking over her shoulder samurai-style, he frowned. "Nice sword," he said drily.
"Thanks."
"It's one of my favorites."
"If you're nice, I'll give it back to you in a year or two."
"You're so good to me."
"I know. Now, I believe we were talking about Hydra."
William paused, studied the land again. "Well. Where to now?"
"This way," Lucien said, motioning them forward.
Anya stifled a groan but kicked into motion. "Don't tell me we've got miles of hiking to do. I might just sink into a fit of the vapors."
"Stay on alert," Lucien said, and the three of them inched along for several hours.
At first, she felt like a piece of ice bobbing in a glass of soda. Then her entire body went numb. That should have made things easier, but it didn't. Moving her arms and legs was like moving thousand-pound logs.
"Remind me why I like you," William said, breaking the silence. "Remind me why I welcome you into my home time and time again, even knowing trouble's going to follow you. 'Cause right now, I can't remember."
"You welcome her because she brings excitement and passion everywhere she goes," Lucien answered.
Ah. She melted inside, sudden warmth combating the numbness. Grinning up at him, she patted his shoulder. He was holding up well. He hadn't stumbled once, even though his legs felt like lead weights to him and Death was clamoring inside his head, demanding to collect souls, but wanting to stay with her.
Being able to read him so easily was wicked-cool, she decided. And knowing his sweet little evil demon purred for her, liked her even, was wondrous. Two bad boys for the price of one. Couldn't get any better than that. Still, she hated that Lucien was suffering. Soon, she vowed. Soon that would end.
He reached over and squeezed her hand, as if sensing her plan to contact Cronus. Okay. Maybe this reading each other thing wasn't so cool, after all. What would she do if he tried to stop her?
"Anyone know what Hydra is like?" she asked to distract him. "Good fighter?"
"She is unbeatable, and every time you cut off her head another will grow in its place." William sighed, a little dejected. "Do you really think you can beat such a creature, Anya? You're strong, but not that strong."
One of the spikes in Lucien's boot hit an icy rock that refused to break, and he stumbled. Weakened as he was becoming again, a moment passed before he was able to right himself. Anya didn't want William to think Lucien was less a warrior, so she forced her hands to remain at her sides rather than reaching out to help.
"What's wrong with you now?" William asked Lucien. "Anya wear you out or something?"
She slapped William's arm. "Don't talk about him like that. He wore me out."
"Ow," Willie complained. "That hurt. You're stronger than you think and pack one hell of a punch."
"Hush, you big baby. I thought I wasn't that strong."
"Well?" he prompted Lucien, not hushing. He did it just to spite her, she knew. "What's wrong with you?"
Lucien shrugged. "If the enemy assumes I am weakened, he will underestimate me."
William thought about that for several seconds, then nodded. "True. But I don't see any enemies around."
"Time will tell," Lucien said.
Anya experienced a wave of pride. That's my boy.
Another cold burst of wind cut through them. "What did you do with the Hunters' bodies?" Lucien asked William.
"I took care of them," was the staunch reply. "That's all that matters."
Anya had enjoyed fighting and killing them. They'd hoped to hurt and ultimately kill Lucien, and anyone who meant Lucien harm was now her enemy, as well. She would kill without hesitation. Without remorse. Without mercy.
"Why would you bother?" Ice chunks splattered from the toe of Lucien's boot and stuck to his leg.
There was a slight hesitation as William lifted his mask and scrubbed the sheen of ice from his lips. Mist puffed around his face. "If someone found them, humans would flood these mountains in droves to investigate their murder."