The Darkest Pleasure

Pain wanted more.

Hands shaky, Reyes opened the refrigerator. Paris did the shopping, so Reyes never knew what he’d find. Today’s selection was shaved meats and loaves of bread. A sandwich, then.

“Where is Aeron?” Lucien asked behind him. “I kept my part of our bargain. The time has come for you to keep yours.”

Reyes didn’t turn. “I will take you to him. In the morning.”

“No. You will take me to him now.”

Reyes withdrew a package of turkey and a package of ham, looked from one to the other, then shrugged. He didn’t know which Danika would prefer, so he would make her both. “Danika is weak and hungry. After I see to her needs, I will be at your disposal.”

The usually calm Lucien uttered a low growl. “Every minute he is locked away is probably absolute agony. Our demons cannot stand to have their hosts restrained, and you know it. Wrath is likely screaming for release, even now.”

“Need I remind you again that he begged for it? And what I know is that when Aeron is brought here, he will have to be…what? Locked away. What is the difference if the prison is somewhere else? Besides that, he does not want to be near us.” Reyes tossed the packages onto the counter and grabbed one of the loaves of bread. Wheat.

Did she like wheat or white? After a moment’s deliberation, he decided to use both. Just in case. He pinched the plastic covering the white and slid the loaf in front of him. “I’m only asking for one more night.”

“What if he’s dying? We are immortal, yes, but under the right circumstances we can die like any other living thing. Another fact you already know.”

“He’s not dying.”

“How do you know?” Lucien insisted.

“Somehow I can feel his desperation burning inside of me every minute of every day. It is stronger with every second that passes, as I’m sure he is weaker against Wrath.” Reyes drew in a breath, held…held…then slowly released it, letting his sudden burst of anger leave him, too. “Just a few more hours. That’s all I ask. For me, for Danika. For him.”

There was a heavy pause. He fit two slices of meat atop each slice of bread, smashed them together.

“Very well,” Lucien said. “A few.” His boots clomped as he strode away.

Reyes studied the sandwiches. “Not enough,” he muttered. Humans needed variety. Isn’t that what Paris always said about his lovers? Frowning, Reyes opened the refrigerator again and searched inside. His gaze landed on a bag of purple grapes. Yes, perfect. Last time Danika had stayed here, she’d plowed through a bowl of the fruit in minutes.

He withdrew the entire bag, washed the contents and spread them around the four sandwiches.

What would she like to drink? Back to the fridge he went. He saw a bottle of wine, a pitcher of water and a carton of orange juice. He knew better than to give Danika wine. The wine here was laced with ambrosia stolen from the heavens and had once almost killed Maddox’s human woman, Ashlyn.

Reyes scooted the chilled bottle aside and latched on to the juice. He poured every drop into a tall glass.

“Damn, boy. You feeding an army?”

Reyes tossed a quick glance over his shoulder. Sabin leaned against the door frame, thick arms crossed over his chest. He was as modern as Paris with his silly Pirates of the Caribbean shirt, but he lacked Paris’s finesse. “She is hungry.”

“I guessed. Tiny as she is, I don’t think she’ll be able to eat all that. Besides, she just spent three days with Hunters. You should starve her, question her about what went down, and only then, when you have answers, should you feed her.” Arm outstretched to claim one of the squares, Sabin moved forward.

Reyes latched on to his friend’s wrist and squeezed. “Make your own or lose the hand. And she is not in league with the Hunters.”

Sabin arched a sandy brow, the picture of pique. “How do you know?”

He didn’t have an answer, but he would not allow anyone to hurt her in any way. “Just stay away from her,” he said, “and leave the food alone.”

“Since when are you so giving?” Gideon asked at his other side, swiping a sandwich before Reyes could do anything about it.

“Giving” equaled “stingy” in Gideon’s messed-up world.

“Back off,” Reyes growled.

Both warriors chuckled.

“Yeah. Whatever,” Sabin said, and grabbed a sandwich with his free arm.

Reyes ground his teeth together. I will not pull a weapon onmy friends. I will not pull a fucking weapon on my friends.

“Oh, goodie! Food.” Anya skipped into the room, Ashlyn at her side, their arms linked. “I thought I smelled the sweet scent of culinary genius.”

Red spotted Reyes’s vision as he gathered the plate and the glass before the women could confiscate a single crumb or drop. “Danika’s,” he said tightly.

“But I really like turkey.” Anya pouted up at him. She was tall for a woman, but even in four-inch heels she only reached Reyes’s chin. “Besides, when I slap a sandwich together, it never tastes as good as when you do it. There’s something so delicious about food prepared by a man.”

“Not my problem.” He tried to step around her, but she leapt in front of him, hands fisted on her hips. He sighed, knowing she would trip him if he attempted to pass her. “Lucien will cook something for you.”

Another pouting frown. “He’s out collecting souls.”

“Paris, then.”

“He’s doing some chick in town, the nympho.”

“Starve,” Reyes told her unsympathetically.

“I’ll make us something,” Ashlyn offered, rubbing her slightly swollen belly. She was pregnant, just beginning to show. “While I do, I want to hear all about Danika.”

Reyes wasn’t sure how he felt about the coming birth. Would the baby be a demon? A human? He couldn’t decide which would be worse. Constant inner torment or mortality? “She’s well. Nothing more to say.”

“Make me something, too,” Sabin told Ashlyn. “I’m ninety-seven percent famished. That sandwich I stole only helped a little.”

“I’m totally full,” Gideon said, which meant he was on the verge of starvation. He wiped his hands to dislodge any remaining crumbs.

“Shame on you boys for making a pregnant woman do all the work,” Anya scolded.

“Hey!” Sabin wagged a finger at the gorgeous goddess. “You’re letting a pregnant woman make your sandwich. How is that any different?”

“Pregnant or not, I’ll let her make me one, too.”

At the sound of that scratchy voice, everyone stilled. Turned. A collective gasp rang out. Then a collective, “Torin!”

Grinning, Ashlyn stepped toward the now-healed warrior, arms opening to hug him. Anya latched on to her shoulder and jerked her back.

“He’s Disease, sweetness,” the goddess said. “You can’t touch him without getting sick, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ashlyn smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re better.”