The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld Book 7)

STRIDER POSITIONED HIMSELF on the thick branch of an oak tree, surrounded by lush foliage and darkness. The clouds were thick and gray tonight, shielding the moon and stars and scenting the air with promised rain. The perfect atmosphere for fighting. Of course, he would have said the same thing if the sun had been shining brightly.

Planning an ambush was a lot more fun than vacationing with a horny immortal of questionable morals, a depressed, drugged-out warrior looking for his lost love and a forked-tongued little Harpy who rubbed his nerves raw.

William had decided he wanted no part in the coming battle. Said he couldn’t risk injury when he had more important things to do, or some shit like that. So he’d taken off for Gilly’s family home. Paris had just screwed a random stranger, his strength returned, his body healed, and was in the process of gathering weapons for The Stupid-Ass Chase, as Strider was now calling it. But Kaia, well, she was perched in the tree across from Strider’s, waiting for the Hunters to find them.

They’d left a subtle but clear trail, acting as if they only wanted to camp and screw.

Below them was a tent, a crackling fire that cast only the barest hint of gold, hot dog weenies roasting on a portable grill—turned to its lowest setting, of course—and a lawn chair with a CPR dummy lounging on the plastic. How Kaia had produced the thing, he didn’t know and wasn’t going to ask. The stupid thing looked like him and had clearly been stabbed. Repeatedly. In the groin.

He thought she might have used the dummy for target practice, and tried not to be offended. Key word: tried. What had he ever done to piss her off? Well, besides annoy the hell out of her. But that had only happened recently, and she must have had that dummy for weeks. There were just so many slashes.

Suddenly his branch bounced, the leaves rattling together. He bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t have to look to know what had just happened. Kaia had decided to join him. She still smelled like cinnamon rolls, and his mouth still watered every time she neared him.

“You have your own tree, woman,” he pointed out. “You said you’d stay on yours, and I’d stay on mine.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.” Kaia settled next to him, completely at ease. “That happens. Get used to it. Besides, yours is prettier.”

He didn’t allow himself the luxury of looking at her. One, he’d already memorized her features. In his mind, he saw the glossy red of her hair, so much like flames. Saw those gray-gold hawk eyes framed by lashes the same shade of red as her hair. Saw that pixie nose, those siren lips. Two, she would distract him—more than she already was. And with her litany of challenges still ringing in his head, she’d made certain he couldn’t afford a distraction.

He wished his demon would get the message.

Ever since she’d opened that fire-and-brimstone mouth of hers in the car, Defeat had been supercharged. Eager, humming with nervousness, but also with great waves of anticipation. She was a worthy opponent, strong, brave and fearless. Besting her would be a thrill unlike any other, and a sexual high the likes of which he’d never experienced. As many battles as he’d fought over the centuries, he knew it, felt it. Wanted it.

And yeah, some of Strider’s anger with Kaia had drained as they’d staged the campsite. She was just so unabashedly female, so unrepentantly aggressive, and he admired those qualities. But that didn’t mean he liked her liked her.

The burn of her gaze brought him back to the present. She was studying him, taking his measure.

“Why are you here?” he asked, checking the site on the rifle mounted beside him. “Why did you ask Lucien to find me? The truth this time.”

She sighed, her breath warm as it drifted over his shoulder. “Maybe I wanted to be with Paris.”

“Nope. Try again. You’ve slept with Paris, and you know he can’t have you again.” Irritation had crept into his voice, and he didn’t know why. What did he care if this gorgeous Harpy had welcomed his friend into her bed? She wasn’t his, and he felt no sense of possession toward her.

“Maybe I wanted to make William jealous.”

“Please,” Strider said, his irritation rising for whatever reason. “Lucien said you’d specifically asked for me, and you don’t need me to make William jealous. He’d offer himself up for your pleasure, even if you just wanted to carve the Chinese symbol for dumbass in his chest.”

She paused, tensed. Then she grumbled, “Fine. I admit it. I wanted to be with you.”

Harpies were notorious liars, as she’d admitted, but in this instance, he suspected she was finally telling the truth. Not because he was hot and most females wanted him. Well, yeah, he was hot and most females wanted him. But there had to be another reason.

“Why?” he insisted. “And don’t give me that shit about being bored, because I also want to know why you tracked my Hunters.”

“Your Hunters?” She snorted, every inch the warrior. “When you weren’t tracking them yourself?”

“Kaia. Please.”

She sighed again, the second caress of her breath making his muscles go rigid. “Lookit. You don’t know this, but I was in the clouds with Bianka when you brought that female Hunter to the fortress. You…desired her and hated yourself for it.”

He stiffened. If there was one topic guaranteed to blacken his mood, it was Haidee. “How do you know that?”

“Duh. While I’m in the clouds, I can watch anyone I want.”

And she’d wanted to watch him? “Why me?” he demanded again.

Another pause, this one brittle with increased tension. “I…like you,” she eventually admitted.

The words had him stiffening all over again. There was so much longing in her tone, he wanted to cover his ears. “As a friend, right?” He did not need a Harpy crushing on him. Especially now. Harpies were more determined, more stubborn than a pack of rabid pit bulls.

“No,” she said, tracing something on the space between them. “Not as a friend.”

Defeat’s attention switched from the coming battle to the Harpy. Winning her heart would be—

No. His hands curled into fists. No. He didn’t want to win her heart. Her body, yes. His cock was filling, hardening, suddenly desperate to feel the slick glide of her inner walls. He shook his head when he realized the direction of his thoughts. He didn’t want to win her body, either.

Gentle, he had to be gentle with her. If he hurt her feelings with a rejection, she would hurt his face with her claws. The situation was as simple as that. “Kaia. You slept with Paris. One of my best friends.”

“I made a mistake,” she said hoarsely. “Haven’t you ever made a mistake? I mean, you still smell like the stripper you banged. The one wearing the peach-scented body oil.”

He understood her hatred for peaches now. She’d been—was—jealous. That did not please him. “Okay, so, yeah. I’ve clearly made mistakes, and I don’t blame you for yours. But I’m not going to sleep with you.” Defeat might have whimpered. You’re afraid of her, remember? “Some of the guys can share. I can’t.”

“I—I wouldn’t be with anyone else while we were together,” she whispered, and his chest ached.

If he didn’t know better, he would think she was…vulnerable right now. But he did know better. Harpies were as hard as steel. Nothing intimidated them, nothing softened them. They wanted something badly enough, they took it, and that was that. She probably just saw him as a challenge, something to tame. Gods knew enough women had tried and failed over the centuries. Gods also knew he understood the allure of a challenge.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, still using that gentle tone. “It doesn’t change the past.”

“You wanted to share with Amun,” she replied, trembling now. “You wanted his woman. Would have taken her if she’d wanted you in return.”

“But I didn’t, and I won’t. Why do you think I left the fortress?”

“Well,” she huffed, “just so you know, I didn’t ask you to nail me. I just wanted to go on a date with you, maybe get to know you better.”

So she could hop into bed with Paris, no preliminaries, but Strider needed to wine and dine her first?

And don’t you dare take this as a challenge, he snapped at his demon. The beast had gone quiet, ceasing that annoying humming, waiting for Strider to reply to her, waiting for Kaia’s next response.

“Let’s backtrack a little,” he said. Maybe, if he prodded her enough, her desire for him would fade. “You saw that I wanted the Hunter.”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And I realized I didn’t like it.”

Again, he doubted she lied. “So you tracked the other Hunters because…”

“I didn’t want you distracted by them.”

“Because…”

“I wanted you focused on me.”

He was not pleased by that, either. When are you going to stop lying to yourself? “On dating you, not sleeping with you.”

“Yes.”

“Even though I wanted someone else?”

“Yes,” she snarled.

Time to go in for the kill. “I’ll be honest with you, Kaia. Ultimately, I need a woman who won’t challenge me.” Which will bore the hell out of you, common sense piped up. Strider ignored his stupid common sense. “I hate what happens when I lose, and with you, everything would be a challenge.” And exciting. And nerve-racking.

“No, I wouldn’t—”

He held up his hand for silence. “You wouldn’t be able to help yourself. Look where we are, think about what we’re doing. You challenged me to kill more Hunters than you do, for gods’ sake.”

“That was for your own good,” she protested. “You were depressed or something and not taking care of business, which placed you in all kinds of danger. I was helping you, damn it!”

Maybe. Maybe not. “Well, your help has ensured that I slaughter anyone who’s foolish enough to track me. Your help ruined my much-needed vacation.”

Silence.

Finally he allowed himself to look at her. She was still watching him, those beautiful gray-gold eyes wide and glassy, as if she was fighting tears. A Harpy, cry? Not bloody likely. She was just disappointed that she wasn’t getting her way, he rationalized, but that didn’t stop the ache from blooming in his chest again. Didn’t stop a wave of guilt and remorse from winding through him. He had hurt her.

“Kaia,” he began, then paused. He didn’t know what else to say.

In the distance, a twig had snapped.

Both he and Kaia stilled, not even daring to breathe. They waited…waited…but no other sounds were forthcoming. Neither relaxed their guard, however. They knew.

The Hunters had finally arrived.

How many men had Haidee’s man brought with him?

Defeat started humming again, prowling through Strider’s head as he focused on the battle. Win. Win, win, win.

Strider leaned into the rifle he’d propped at his side, studying his surroundings through the night-vision scope. Night-vision was both a blessing and a curse. Using the scope cut through the darkness, sure, but afterward, he wouldn’t be able to see shit without it, even in the light.

There. He spotted…six men inching toward the camp. A slight adjustment of his alignment, and he saw…six more men doing the same on the other side. Twelve soldiers, then. Unless there were more behind him, of course, and he would bet his ass there were.

His heartbeat quickened with a hot surge of excitement. Much as he’d chastised Kaia, he really did love to fight. He loved the adrenaline rush, the knowledge that he was one step closer to finally winning the war with the Hunters.

The branch he perched upon suddenly shuddered the slightest bit. His jaw clenched as the leaves rattled together, announcing his location. Kaia had just jumped down. No one seemed to notice her, or him, however.

Win, Defeat said. Win!

I know. I will.

A shriek rent the air. A Harpy’s high-pitched shriek.

A second later, he heard a pop and a whiz. The sounds of silencers, bullets. Next he heard a crack. The sound of a target being hit. The lawn chair shook, the dummy’s body jolting.

Strider lined a target of his own in his sights—chest, dead center—and softly squeezed the rifle’s trigger. There was a scream, then a grunt, and his victim tumbled down, face-first in the dirt.

The rest of the Hunters rushed into the camp, a few attacking the dummy.

“It’s a fake,” someone snapped.

“Ambush?” someone else said.

“Maybe.”

“Stay on alert.”

“Always.”

“Spread out. Anything moves, anything at all, shoot to kill. I don’t give a flying fuck about setting some crazed demon free. I want the host dead. The keeper of Defeat deserves to die.”

“Hate that bastard,” another murmured.

There was another scream, this one shrill and desperate. Kaia must have struck—with her claws. Damn it. He couldn’t allow her to best him.

Strider angled his gun. Fired. Hit someone else in the chest. Angled. Fired. Hit again. Over and over he repeated the process, quick, so quick, before anyone realized what he was doing or where he hid. Bodies piled around his tree.

Finally the Hunters gained their bearings and spotted him. They peppered his branch with round after round. Strider jumped, only one bullet grazing him as he fell. Fire lanced through his arm, but it wasn’t enough to slow him.

Win!

As anticipated, he only had one good eye, the other shrouded with black. He could see there were quite a few Hunters left standing, and they’d already ferreted out his new locale. They converged, firing as they approached; he fired back. Before meeting them in the middle, he was struck twice, once in the shoulder and once in the stomach. He mentally blocked the pain.

WIN!

Guns were dropped and knives grabbed. This close together, bullets were simply too risky. Strider slashed. Someone screamed. He slashed again. Someone else screamed. A blade slicked through his wrist, but he maintained his grip and ducked, punching, tip extended. Contact. He hit all the way to the spine.

On and on the lethal dance continued. He was bleeding profusely but still energized. He was winning. He even managed to toss someone into the fire. Screams, grunts, groans and whimpering abounded. But by the time the last Hunter fell, Strider was losing strength fast.

He was also grinning.

He had done it. He had won.

“Who’s your daddy, bitches?”

Defeat chortled inside his head, jumping up and down, glorying in the victory. Heat filled his veins, pumped him up. In a little bit, he would feel the sting of every slice, the rest of his energy gone, but for now, he felt invincible.

“Strider?” Kaia stepped into his line of sight. Firelight licked at her, illuminating her beautiful skin. The makeup she always wore must have sweated off, because she glimmered with every color of the rainbow.

In seconds, his cock was painfully hard. It’s just the sexual high, he told himself. You don’t want her. Not really. Gods, her skin…his mouth watered for a taste.

Concentrate, he had to concentrate. He hadn’t seen her fight, but he had heard the results. Now her hair was in tangles, and blood was splattered over her cheeks and arms. “Well?” he demanded. “How’d you do?”

Frowning at his waspish tone, she gestured behind her. He wanted to curse when he spied the pile of men she’d defeated. He didn’t have to count to know she’d won their challenge. His stomach tightened with dread as he waited for his knees to buckle and acid to fill his veins, destroying the pleasure.

One minute passed, then another. Nothing happened.

“I didn’t kill any of mine,” she said, buffing her claws. “I just knocked them out. So feel free to do the honors yourself.”

Wait. What? She’d let him win? Surely not. That was as un-Harpylike as, shit, baking an apple pie with ingredients she’d purchased—with money she’d actually earned. “Kaia—”

“No, don’t say anything. The main guy, the one who wants you a lot more dead than even these guys did, isn’t here. I checked. I told you he was wily, so there’s no telling where he is or what he’s doing.”

“Kaia,” he repeated, trying again. What he would say, though, he didn’t know.

She spun away from him, as if she couldn’t bear to look at him a second more. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Goodbye, Strider.”

Before he could say another word, she was gone, the tiny wings on her back giving her a speed he could never hope to match.

He stood there for the longest while, peering down at the mound of unconscious men she’d left for him. He’d won, she had made sure of that, yet in that moment, he’d never felt more like a loser, and he didn’t know why.