The Darkest Lie

Chapter Four

AFTER THE swelling went down in his balls, Gideon phoned Lucien, keeper of Death, asking for cleanup at the hotel, then dragged a protesting Scarlet outside, through the glass-covered atrium and along the brightly lit city streets to the Escalade he’d hidden in a parking garage a few blocks away. Night was in full swing, the star-sprinkled sky framing the golden half-moon. Though he was prepared for anything, there were no other Hunters—or recruits, as the case may have been—waiting to attack.

He wasn’t sure how those four kids had followed him. Especially if they’d had no training. He’d made damn sure he’d lost any tails. If there had been tails, that was. Which he would’ve bet every cent of his, uh, Torin’s money that there hadn’t been. So either a god or goddess was watching him and reporting his whereabouts or the boys had simply gotten lucky and had happened to be at the hotel when he checked in.

He didn’t believe in coincidences, so the first was most likely. Cronus was helping the Lords and Rhea, the god queen, who was at war with her husband, had teamed up with the Hunters. But why would she send recruits to fight him, rather than actual Hunters? And would Gideon’s location be compromised no matter where he went?

Probably.

His hand clenched on the steering wheel as he threw the vehicle into Reverse, Scarlet’s arm moving with him.

“What’s got your panties in such a twist?” she asked conversationally.

He wasn’t fooled. She was still pissed as hell at him.

Silent, he maneuvered them through the gloomy garage and back onto the city streets. Late as it was, traffic was light. His gaze kept returning to his rearview mirror, though, just in case.

“You’re begging for another fork in your chest,” she muttered.

Again ignoring her, he shouted, “Cron!” Stop. You’re ticked at him. There has to be another way. But Gideon knew better, and wouldn’t lie to himself. Not now of all times. “I don’t need you!”

In the passenger seat, Scarlet stiffened. “Cron. As in Cronus?”

He nodded.

She hissed in outrage and jerked at the cuffs. “What the hell do you want with him? I hate him!”

Did she have a beef with everyone? “Not answers, okay?”

“Well, you can let me go and then chat with him.” There was an edge creeping into her voice. One he’d never heard before, even when she’d stabbed him. Her struggles increased, and then she was kicking at the passenger door to pop it open.

Was she…scared of the god? Couldn’t be. Scarlet had faced down four potential Hunters without any hesitation.

“My reasons for…avoiding him are…not urgent.” His stomach twisted. He’d almost spoken the truth. Had almost told her that his reasons for summoning the god were indeed urgent. He’d had to force out the lies. “And those reasons aren’t life-and-death.”

“I don’t give a shit!” Slam, slam, boot against plastic. Crack. “I don’t want him here.”

Oh, yes. She was scared. Why?

Rather than ask—he knew she wouldn’t tell him if he did—he changed the subject to give her a moment to calm down. If she kept pulling at him, he was going to lose a limb. Again. “Did you have to leave those kids alive?” She’d killed them without any hint of mercy.

He would have done the same, sure, but he was a guy. Weren’t girls supposed to be softhearted and shit? Well, besides Cameo, keeper of Misery. She could kill an enemy while filing her nails.

“Yeah.” Scarlet’s frantic bid for freedom slowed, then ceased altogether. She peeked at him over her shoulder. “So?”

“Why? We could have pleasured them for information.”

Her lips twitched as if she were suddenly fighting a grin. “Why, Gideon, I didn’t know you swung that way. They were cute, though, weren’t they? Especially the blond. Is that who you were imagining sexing up?”

Now that tone he recognized. Sugar-sweet and irritating as hell. But yeah, the blond had been cute from what he’d been able to tell, and he hated that she’d noticed. Actually, he hated that she preferred blonds. His wife should—You don’t know that she’s your wife.

Not mine, Lies piped up. Not mine.

Meaning Lies was claiming her? Hardly. If anyone claimed her, it would be Gideon. If they were married.

And then what? he wondered. He still planned to return her to the dungeon, no matter what. Which meant she was going to hate him. As if she didn’t already. As poorly as she’d treated his man-parts, he suspected that she did.

His guilt returned, filling his nose, his lungs, then sweeping through his bloodstream. Has to be this way.

Yes. She’s not mine.

Zip it.

“Why did you leave them alive?” he insisted.

Scarlet’s seemingly delicate shoulders lifted in a negligent shrug. “They were there to hurt us. If I had let them live, they would have had the opportunity to come back for us. To poison others against us. And their determination would have been greater than ever.”

What she said made sense, but it also caused his stomach to clench. The absolute conviction in her voice had given him a searing glimpse inside her psyche. One she would undoubtedly prefer he not have. Once, she’d let an enemy go rather than kill him and that enemy had returned for her. Had hurt her. With others in tow.

How had the bastards hurt her? Raped her? Beat her? The steering wheel whined as it bent, nearly snapping in half, and Gideon forced himself to loosen his hold. If, after he’d been kicked out of the heavens, he’d gone back for her, as he once might have promised her, would such a fate have been prevented?

Gods. His guilt became a cancer, eating at him, leaving him raw and agonized. Again, he wanted to ask her for an explanation, but again, he knew she would tell him nothing. Until they reached their destination and he seduced her. Which he would do, guilty or not. Before their uninvited guests had arrived, she’d looked ready to accept his kiss. Hell, she’d looked ready to return it with equal passion.

He wanted that. Needed it.

“Nothing to say?” she asked. “No lame reply?”

Lame? He did the best he could, damn it. She’s just frustrated, lashing out. But really, this wasn’t entirely his fault, he reminded himself. Something had happened to his memories. Not that the knowledge eased his guilt.

Actually, his memories were another thing to discuss with Cronus.

“Cron!” he found himself shouting a second time.

And just as before, Scarlet began struggling for freedom. “I told you I don’t want him here. I told you—”

But the rest of her words were lost to him. One moment Gideon was at the wheel, cuffed to Scarlet and motoring down the long, winding roads, the next he was in the heavens, puffy white clouds surrounding him, Scarlet nowhere to be seen.

Trying not to panic, he spun, wild gaze searching for her. Only more of those clouds greeted him. There were no roads, no buildings and no freaking people. “Scar,” he shouted, heart ready to burst from his ribs. He had to find her. Couldn’t let her—

“Rest easy, Lies. Time has momentarily ceased for your female. When I return you, all will be as you left it.”

Another turn, and he was peering over at Cronus. His heartbeat slowed, even as he tried not to gape. The king looked younger every time Gideon saw him, but this…this…Too young, he thought with a shake of his head.

Gone was the silver hair. In its place were startling locks of honey-brown and pale gold. Gone was the wrinkled skin. Now he was unlined, his complexion smooth and sun-kissed.

A white robe that appeared as soft as the clouds draped him, and sandals wrapped around the veined, scarred feet of a warrior. He exuded so much power, Gideon felt the weight of every compelling wave hammering at his shoulders. Remaining standing required power of his own. A lot of it.

“Why did you summon me?” the king asked.

“Lastly—” first off “—I don’t want your vow that all will be as you didn’t say.” Confusing, even to him, but important.

Like Scarlet, Cronus knew him well enough to discern what he was truly saying. Confusing or not. “You have my word. She isn’t going to crash. She isn’t even going to know you were gone unless you tell her.” And, thankfully, Cronus wasn’t upset by his demand. “Happy now?”

A little irritated, perhaps, but not upset. Good. “No. Not happy.” Every muscle in his body released its vise-grip on bone. “No, thank you.”

“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for not telling you how to find Aeron’s spirit?”

No. Never. Rather than admit that to the king, however, he remained silent. Better silence than punishment. Even he was smart enough to know that. But the question explained the king’s sudden patient benevolence.

“What I did,” Cronus said, a little stiff now, “I did for your own good.”

Making Gideon beg and then denying him what he begged for had been for his own good? Yeah. Right.

“You are an immortal, not a god, so your understanding is limited. One day, however, you will thank me.” As the words echoed between them, Cronus’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “I cannot believe I’m explaining myself to you. It’s sickening, really, the way I must baby you. Where is the fearsome warrior I was told to expect?”

Gideon barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Baby him? Ha! “You are not a—”

“Watch your tongue, Lies.” Eyes of the darkest obsidian sharpened. How odd. Usually those eyes were the purest gold. “Otherwise, you’ll lose it.”

He gave a rigid nod. Perhaps he wasn’t so smart, after all.

“Better.” Cronus clicked under his tongue, clearly satisfied his charge had been properly subdued. “Now, I ask again. And for the final time. Why did you summon me?”

To demand your wife’s head on a dinner platter. No need for silver, either. Any metal will do. Not that he could say such a thing aloud. “Just so you know, your wife…she’s a real prize.” He braced himself, expecting immediate punishment. Though he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for a dagger. Instinct allowed nothing less.

“If you prize garbage,” the king replied dryly, “then, yes. We agree.”

A truth, even spoken in so disparaging a tone. Lies spat in distaste.

Gideon returned the dagger to its sheath. Astonishingly, he and the king were on the same page. “This isn’t the thing. I don’t suspect she’s watching our every move. I don’t suspect she’s having us followed. And I don’t suspect she’s sending humans to kill us.”

“I know. I’ve known for a while.” Again truth. Cronus pinched the bridge of his nose, a man at the end of his rope—without a blade. “Damned female. She’s always been more trouble than she’s worth.”

“How can we encourage her?” To stop, he silently added, wishing like hell he could just say what he wanted. “She’s not causing all kinds of grief, and she’s not going to have us murdered before we can save your ass from Gal.” Or rather, his head from Galen.

Danika, Reyes’s woman and the All-Seeing Eye, could do more than peer into heaven and hell. She could predict the future. She claimed Galen was going to behead Cronus. Which was the only reason Cronus was helping the Lords.

No, not true. There was another reason, one Gideon had only recently learned. Cronus was possessed by a demon. By Greed. Like Scarlet, he’d been a prisoner of Tartarus and one of the lucky few chosen to host the “extra.”

Back and forth Cronus paced in front of him, the power he emitted intensifying, crackling the air. “After what happened to your cohort Aeron, I had amulets made. One for each of you. When worn, they will prevent her from watching you.”

Truth. And wasn’t that just a little bit of awesome? “Don’t give me.” Now, now, now.

The pacing continued without pause. “Only problem is, they will prevent all gods from watching you.”

Meaning himself. Bastard had to have his fingers in everything. “Here’s an unworthy news flash. The cons far outweigh the pros. So, don’t give me,” he repeated, holding out his hand and waving his fingers.

A portion of his impatience stemmed from a desire to be hidden from the Powers That Be. Finally. But mostly, he just wanted to return to Scarlet. He didn’t like being away from her, he realized.

Still the pacing continued, even gaining speed. “Wait just a minute. If I do this, I’ll need daily reports. And if a single day passes without someone telling me what’s going on down there, I will personally raid your fortress and remove the amulets from around your necks. After I remove your heads.”

Gideon didn’t point out that taking their heads would free their demons, possibly sending the crazed fiends on a ferocious rampage, something even Cronus would be cursed for doing. Which was why the king had let the warriors live when he’d first assumed control of the heavens. Even though he’d desperately wanted to destroy them.

And it was weird, thinking of the king of kings as being curseable. But, yes, it could be done. Apparently, Cronus wasn’t the most powerful god in town. That honor belonged to the mysterious being who had saved Aeron’s life. The being that had long ago defeated even death. The “One True Deity,” Olivia called him.

Although, there was a chance Cronus wouldn’t be punished for freeing the demons from their hosts, for they now knew a new pairing could be made. That’s what had happened to his friend Baden’s demon, Distrust. A new pairing.

Baden was dead, and Distrust now resided inside a Hunter female. A female Gideon wasn’t sure he’d be able to kill, even if she had a dagger pressed to his throat. Not that he minded killing women. He’d done it before. Under Sabin’s leadership, it was kind of mandatory to treat females as equals. In all things, even war. What bothered him was that a part of Baden swam inside that woman’s body.

How could he play a role in his good friend’s second defeat?

“Lies! Are you listening to me? I asked if you understood.”

Wait. What? Gideon pulled himself from the dark mire of his thoughts. “Please don’t repeat yourself.”

Red suffused the god’s cheeks, and the color wasn’t from embarrassment. No, it was fury that decorated his expression. “I will not repeat myself. You will either give me the daily reports I demanded, or you will not receive those amulets. Do you—” black eyes blazed “—understand?”

The reports, the amulets. Of course. Was the temper tantrum really necessary?

“No, I don’t understand.”

Finally Cronus stilled, nostrils flaring as he tempered his breathing. His golden gaze locked on Gideon. Gold again, he realized. Why the continual change?

“Very well.” Cronus held out his hand, empty palm up. Azure lights sparked, pinpricks that dotted the endless expanse of white, before something began to crystallize against his skin. Two somethings, actually.

Gideon leaned forward for a closer look. He saw two silver chains, both with a butterfly dangling from the center. Studded throughout those jagged wings were small rubies, sapphires, a piece of onyx, ivory and even an opal. Each jewel or stone seemed alive, swirling with an inner fire he usually saw only in his dreams.

Pretty, but…“I’m gonna look so manly.” The words were out before he could stop them.

A growl escaped the king, far more menacing than any that had come before. “Is that a complaint, Lies? Because I can—”

“Yes, yes. No apologies. I don’t want them.” He snatched the necklaces before they could be taken away and anchored one around his neck. The metal was hot—hot enough to blister his skin—but he didn’t remove it. The other he stuffed into his pocket. Somehow, he would trick Scarlet into wearing it. “What about my enemies?” My friends.

“I’ll visit the fortress and hand them out.”

Truth. How accommodating the usually morose god was being. There had to be a reason, one that didn’t bode well for Gideon. Still. He’d take what he could get. “No, thanks,” he said again.

“If that’s all—”

“Don’t wait.” The king had given him an opening, intentionally or not, and he jumped on it. “Scarlet didn’t tell me that we were wed and I wasn’t wondering if—”

“Scarlet?” The gold once again disappeared from his eyes, the obsidian like a living entity. “Rhea’s daughter?”

Gideon blinked. She was Rhea’s daughter? She was a fucking royal princess? Did that mean…“Are you not her father?” he croaked out. That might explain their matching black gazes.

“No!” So much disgust poured from that single word, Gideon could have drowned in it. “Never speak such a blasphemy again or I will unleash a torrent of suffering the likes of which you’ve never known.”

Why the disgust? Why the warning? She was a beautiful, intelligent, brave female, damn it, and the bastard should be proud to call her daughter. Gideon’s hands fisted, even as he told himself he wasn’t angry. He was relieved that Cronus wasn’t his father-in-law. Possible father-in-law, he hastily added.

Sabin’s wife was Galen’s daughter, and Gideon had seen the problems that little family connection had caused. No, thanks.

“Her father was mortal, and her mother is a whore,” Cronus continued, the disgust far from waning. “That’s who’s in your vehicle? Seems I haven’t been paying enough attention to you lately, Lies. I knew you had the girl in your dungeon, but had not realized you had taken her out. Without my permission. I should punish you.”

Again, truth. Careful.

She’s not mine, his demon suddenly piped up. A warning to the king. One Cronus couldn’t hear, thankfully.

Not now. Don’t push. “No apologies, Great One.” That he wasn’t bombarded with pain for the “great one” comment shocked him. Cronus had to know he meant the words as an insult. “As I wasn’t saying, she didn’t tell me that we’re wed. Something I remember. I didn’t want to trick her into thinking I was softening toward her so that she would tell me more. And I didn’t plan to return her to the dungeon once I had those answers.”

“Wed? You and Scarlet?” Cronus frowned, head tilting to the side as he pondered. “Everyone knew she was interested in you the first moment she saw you, but there was no hint that the two of you were seeing each other. Much less willing to wed each other.”

She’d always been interested in him? Suddenly he wanted to puff out his chest and bang on it like a damned gorilla. She liked the look of him, and always had. Despite her purported adoration of blonds. Thank the gods.

Surely he could sneak past her rage and ignite that interest again. Somehow, some way. “Do you know of anyone who didn’t have the power to erase thoughts of her from my mind?”

A pause, almost oppressive in its intensity. Cronus licked his lips, suddenly uneasy. Then uttered a hesitant, “No.”

Gideon’s demon purred. A lie. Cronus had just told a lie. He did know someone who possessed that kind of power. Who? “Why—”

“No more questions.” The command was snapped, his tone aggravated now. “Just…be careful with her. She’s feral. Otherwise, I would have taken over her care myself.”

You will not touch her, he wanted to scream, even as his demon gave another purr. Another lie. What had the king lied about this time, though? That she was feral, or that he would have taken over her “care”? Or both?

Didn’t matter if she was feral. She was Gideon’s wife, for gods’ sake. Maybe. But either way, he was going to bed her. If that didn’t return his memory of her, nothing would. At least, that made sense to him. And what if, afterward, she was willing to help him and his friends in their ongoing war with the Hunters?

Yes, of course. If she would help, he wouldn’t have to return her to the dungeon, even though he’d told Cronus he would. The king wanted to win the war, didn’t he? Scarlet could destroy the enemy while they slept, eradicating the need for bombings, stabbings and gunfights.

That would be total win-win. No downside. Well, except for one, but it was minor, so it hardly bore mentioning. Thought you never lied to yourself. Gideon bit his tongue until he tasted copper. Fine. The downside was huge. Devastating. He would never be able to trust Scarlet because his demon couldn’t read her. And after what he’d done to her, she would never want to help him.

Therefore, she had to return to the dungeon no matter how much she softened toward him.

“I grow tired of your wandering mind,” Cronus said on a sigh.

So did Gideon. The results sucked. “Don’t have one last thing.” Hopefully the god realized he had something else to discuss after this. “In prison, did anyone not…hurt her?” The last was croaked from him.

Something hard shuttered over the king’s eyes, not just erasing their color but shutting down his expression and blocking all hint of his emotions. “We’re done here. You have things to do. I have things to do. So…”