Dark Beginnings: The Darkest Fire / The Darkest Prison / The Darkest Angel

“No, you’re not. You’re wheezing. What can I do to help?”

He was surprised to note she did not scramble off him, now that they were safe. Well, as safe as a person could be inside Hell. “Tell me more about yourself. While I catch my breath.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” As she spoke, her delicate hands wisped over his brow, his jaw, his shoulders. Searching for injuries? Offering comfort? “What should I tell you?”

“Anything.” He was growing stronger by the second, but he did not admit it. Rather, he luxuriated in the sensation of her touch. “Everything. I want to know all about you.” Truth.

“All right. I…goodness, this is hard. I guess I’ll start at the beginning. My mother is the goddess of Happiness. Odd, I know, that such a woman could give birth to one such as me.”

“Why odd?” When looking at Kadence, hearing her voice, breathing in her scent, gave him more joy than he’d ever known?

“Because of what I am,” she said, clearly ashamed. “Because of the damage I can cause.”

“I have known nothing but—” pleasure, hunger, desperation “—kindness at your hands.”

Her ministrations ceased, and he could feel her gaze boring into him. “Truly?”

“Yes, truly.” Do not stop touching me. Centuries had passed since he’d last enjoyed even the slightest hint of contact. This was nirvana, paradise and a dream all wrapped into one delightful package. “My head,” he found himself saying on a moan.

“Poor baby,” she cooed, massaging his temples.

He nearly smiled. Now was not the time for this. They were inside Hell, out in the open, possible targets. The demons at the gate could have followed them. But he could not help himself, was too desperate, greedy. Just a little longer. “Your story,” he prompted.

“Where was I? Oh, yes.” Her honeysuckle scent enveloped him, chasing away the odor of rot. “I was a mean little girl. I didn’t share my toys, and I frequently made the other children cry, unintentionally compelling them to bend to my will. All right, perhaps a few of those times it was not so unintentional. I think that’s one of the reasons I was sent to Hell as warden, though it was never said aloud. The gods wanted to be rid of me, once and for all.”

How forlorn she sounded. “Every living creature has made a mistake at one point or another. Besides, you were a child. Not yet sensitized to the feelings of others. Do not blame yourself. They should not have. They knew better.”

“What of you?” she asked, and this time she sounded more buoyant.

I did that. I encouraged her.

“What would you like to know?” he wondered.

Slowly she grinned. “Anything. Everything.”

That grin…one of the gods’ finest creations, surely. His gut clenched. His shaft hardened again.

“I need a moment to think.” He’d relegated his human memories to a far corner in his mind, never to be considered again. Before, thinking of those days had stung, for he’d known they were forever lost—but he reminded himself that with his wife’s desertion, that was a good thing. Today, however, with the essence of Kadence all around him, he experienced only a thrum of sadness for what might have been.

“I was a wild child, untamable, a roamer,” he said. “My mother despaired, thinking I would worry her and every member of our family to death.” He laughed, her sweetly aged face flashing in his mind. “Then they introduced me to Evangeline. She calmed me, because I wanted to be worthy of her. We married, as both our families desired.”

Kadence stiffened. Even paled. The hand she’d been dancing at his temple stilled. “You are…wed?”

“No. She left me.”

“I am sorry,” she said, but there was relief in her tone.

Relief? Why? “Don’t be.” Had he not given his soul for Evangeline, she would have died. And had she not left Geryon, he might have fought Lucifer when the time came to become Guardian. And had he fought, he might not have met Kadence.

In that moment, he had never been so glad of something.

Suddenly a frenzied snarl echoed through the distance, trailed by more demon laughter. They had indeed been followed.

Giving up all pretense of being winded, Geryon popped to a stand, lifting the goddess with him and searching the distance.

The horde was several yards away. But as he watched, a fiend separated from the pack and raced straight for them.

CHAPTER NINE

GERYON SHOVED KADENCE behind him. Another touch—warmth, satin skin, perfection—and he yearned to revel in it. He didn’t, couldn’t. He’d agreed to come with her to save the human realm, yes, but also to keep her safe. Not because she was a goddess and not because she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever beheld, but because, in this single day, she had made him feel like a man. Not a beast.

“Remember that I swore to let no harm befall you,” he told her. A minute, perhaps two, and the creature would reach them. Fast as it was, there was still a great distance to cover, the streets of Hell stretching endlessly. “I will keep my word.”

“Geryon. Perhaps I can—”

“No.” He didn’t want her involved in this fight. Already she was trembling in fear. She was so scared, in fact, she had yet to realize her hands were resting on his back, twin conductors of inexorable pleasure. Had she known, surely she would have jerked away. “I will fight it.” Should she try to do so, it would feed off her fear, becoming more crazed.

As did most minions, the creature coming at them possessed a skeletal face and a muscled body covered in green scales, its forked tongue flicking out as if blood already coated the air. Glowing red eyes glared at them, a thousand sins resting where pupils should have.

Warrior instincts demanded Geryon stride forward and meet the bastard in the middle. Fight there, like true soldiers. Yet his every male instinct demanded he stay where he was. To put any distance between himself and Kadence was to place her in further danger. Another demon could be hiding nearby, waiting for the chance to pounce on her. Another of the horde could separate, circle around and try to take her from behind.

“This is my fault,” she said. “No matter that I had begun to relax, my fear of this place is bone-deep. And that fear is like a beacon to them, isn’t it?”

He chose not to answer that, too afraid of scaring her further by acknowledging the truth of her words. “When it reaches us, I want you to run backward. Press against the wall and scream for me if you see any hint of another demon.”

“No, I want to help you. I—”

“Will do as I said. Otherwise, I will defeat it and leave this place.” His tone was uncompromising. Already he regretted bringing her here, whether the wall needed defending or not. Whether innocents needed saving or not.

She was more important, he realized.

She stiffened against him, but didn’t offer another protest.

A cry of “Mine, mine, mine” rent the air.

The creature closed in, faster…almost…there. Claws raked at Geryon as he grabbed his opponent by the neck. Multiple stings erupted on his face, followed by the trickle of warm blood. Flailing arms, kicking legs.

Only when the temptation of Kadence’s hands fell away did Geryon truly begin to battle. He tossed the creature to the ground and leapt upon it, knees pinning its shoulders. One punch, two, three.

It bucked, wild and feral. Saliva gleamed on its fangs as curses sprang from its bony mouth. Another punch. Still another. But the pounding failed to subdue it in any way.

“Where is Violence? Death? Doubt?” he gritted out. They were why he was here, after all.

The struggling continued, intensified, terror leaping to life in those red eyes. Not fear for what Geryon would do, he knew, but terror for what its brothers-in-evil would do if they learned of any betrayal.

Though Geryon hated for Kadence to see him kill brutally, savagely—again—it could not be helped. He raised his hand, spread his elongating, dripping nails and struck. The poison that coated his nails was a “gift” from Lucifer to aid in his duties and acted swiftly, without mercy, spreading through the creature’s body and rotting it from the inside out.

It screamed and screeched in agony, its struggles becoming writhing spasms. Then the scales began to burn away, smoking, sizzling, leaving only more of that ugly bone. But the bones, too, disintegrated and black ash soon coated the air, blowing in every direction.