“Little Haidee,” the voice sang, a whisper. “I know you’re close by. I can smell you.”
Please be a nightmare or another realm of hell, she thought desperately.
“You cannot hide from me, little Haidee. You have what’s mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Scraaape. “Hay…dee…finally, you’re going to give it back.”
Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.
“Hay…dee… You hid when you were a little girl, too. Do you remember? I do. The screams, the splatter. The pleas. Your sister squealed like a pig when the blade sank into her belly. Your mother begged me to stop, to take you away. Your father, well, he was the first to die, wasn’t he?”
She cringed, fought a wave of sickness. No, not a nightmare, not another realm. There was too much glee in that tone. Too much truth to the memory.
Hate was here.
Somehow, the demon had found her. Had come for her. Again.
Denial roaring through her head—not now, please not now—she jackknifed to her feet, wild gaze already searching. She didn’t see him, but that didn’t lessen her dread. She was still in the cave, Amun lying on the pallet he’d made for them.
He must have awoken at her movement, or maybe he’d heard the bastard’s taunts. His eyes were already open. He sat up stiffly, pulled on a pair of pants and grabbed two blades without pausing to clear his head.
He asked no questions. Maybe he didn’t have to. Since making love that second time, they’d been utterly attuned to each other, and she’d actually felt his emotions for her, the sweet depths of his love.
“Haidee.” Hate was closer now. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”
Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.
No. No, no, no. The memory would not consume her. Since meeting Amun, she’d barely thought of that night and thought perhaps she was finally healing. She would not be distracted. Not this time.
She dressed as swiftly as Amun had, then weaponed up. She’d known this day would come. She just hadn’t expected it to come now. No warnings, no sensing Hate’s approach. Just hello, terror.
Actually, no. The old crone at the circus had tried to warn her, hadn’t she? “Soon” had finally arrived.
Amun tugged her toward the only entrance to the cave, pressed her to the side, out of striking distance, then turned and waited, ready to attack. His shoulder pressed into the center of her chest, holding her in place.
“Haidee girl. Dead girl. You have what’s mine. You’re not going to die before I can take it. Not this time. That will come after.”
Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.
Her molars ground together. “What are you planning? He’s not like your friends,” she whispered. “Not human in any way.”
I know, Amun finally said, dark and menacing as their thoughts merged. Secrets knows. He is more than immortal. He is a child of a goddess. Of Themis. Her son. Always he enjoyed killing, suffering. That’s why he was sent to Tartarus.
She couldn’t hide her sudden spike of terror. Not from Amun. Her breathing grew shallow. Hate was the child of a goddess. A god himself. How would they defeat a god?
Secrets flashed images of Hate through Amun’s head, which in turn caused them to flash in hers. He was fast, too fast, his strength unparalleled. Haidee was the only person who’d ever walked away from him, and she’d done so only because the cold had surprised him. He wouldn’t be surprised this time.
“We can’t fight him. We’ll lose.”
I fought gods all the time when I lived in the heavens.
“Yes, and that was thousands of years ago, and you had an immortal army as backup. Right now it’s just me and you. He’ll slaughter us.”
We’ll think of something.
Secrets disagreed, and his certainty swam through her.
“No matter what we do, I’m going to die today,” she said flatly. The demon wasn’t even trying to hide the realization, the knowledge now as much a part of her as Hate. She wasn’t ready, though. Needed more time.
No. No, you’re not. I won’t let you.
Just as surely as she could discern Secrets’s knowledge, she could feel Amun’s rising panic. She had to fight her own panic all the more stringently or they would feed off each other, make each other worse. Someone had to stay calm. Someone had to get Amun out of this alive.
It was already too late for her.
“Listen to me.” As she spoke, she forced herself to accept her fate. She would die—in her way—and she would hurt. So what. She’d done it before. And this time, she’d do it for Amun. There was no greater reason. “In a few days, I’ll be in my cave. No,” she rushed out when his gaze swung to her. “Don’t say anything. And don’t…don’t come for me. I won’t remember you, and I’ll attack you. But I think—” hoped “—I’ll dream of you again and when the hate settles, I’ll come for you. We’ll be together again.”
You’re not dying. Not this time. I’ll die first.
That’s what she feared most. “Just…let him have a go at me,” she pleaded. “You heard him. He wants his demon back, and he’s not leaving without it.”
He won’t be leaving, anyway.
Oh, Amun. Stubborn to his core. “Something’s changed. Always before, he kept his distance when he found me, afraid to touch me. This time, I don’t think he’s afraid.”
He is. A little.
But not enough. “Good,” she forced herself to say. “I can work with that. You’ll stay here, and I can—” No!
She knew she’d just insulted Amun’s warrior core, but she didn’t want to risk his life. She would come back. He would not. “Amun, just listen to me. I don’t want you to fight him, either. He’s a freaking god.”
Demigod. And you can’t stop me.
“Whatever. You know the outcome. We both know the outcome. Your demon is not—”
“Haidee…mine…mine, you have what’s mine,” that despised voice from her past said. Hate didn’t sweep through the cave’s only opening. He simply walked through the wall to stand in front of her and Amun. “Together again, at long last. The thief will finally have her due. You took what’s mine. I want it back.”
“Repeat ourselves much?” As the past collided with present, she wanted to vomit. As always, he wore a hooded black robe, his face cast in thick, impenetrable shadows. His feet floated just above the ground, a wind she couldn’t feel ghosting around him.
Don’t approach him, Amun growled, inching away from her, severing contact. And don’t touch me. Okay? We need to engage him verbally if we’re to learn how to best him without engaging him physically.
Okay, she said. Lied. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. And why couldn’t she touch Amun? When his shoulder had pressed into her, she’d read his mind, his demon. Now, there was…nothing.
Amun gave a jerky nod to let her know he’d heard her reply before their connection had been severed.
Hate hadn’t spoken during the byplay, had merely watched them. Now a low growl erupted from his throat. “You’ve been together. Demon and Hunter.” The words carried a hint of fire. “You do not deserve pleasure, Haidee my girl. Mine. After what you did to me, you deserve only pain.”
“What happened here is none of your business,” she said, raising her chin.
Haidee, watch your words. I said engage him, not infuriate him.
Good, they could still talk to each other. And just what can I say to make him want to stick around and chat, rather than do what he came to do?