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Sorrow settled heavily on his shoulders, weighing him down. He couldn’t talk to his friends about his decision. They wouldn’t understand. They would try to talk him into taking another path. They might even lock him away for his “own good.”
They’d done it once before.
Kane wouldn’t sneak away, but he wouldn’t admit the truth, either. He would say his goodbyes, as if he meant to return after his rescuer had been saved. Only he would know this was it. The end.
Jaw locked, Kane strapped weapons all over his body. There were multiple blades, two Sigs and several clips. He dressed in a black T-shirt and camo pants, then tugged on his favorite pair of combat boots. He stomped from the bathroom, glass crunching under his feet, his mind a field of evil laughter.
Stupid demon.
During Kane’s absence, his friends had moved into a fortress in the Realm of Blood and Shadows, a kingdom hidden in a pocket between earth and the lower level of the skies. He strode down the hall, his gaze on the walls covered with pictures of a beautiful blonde female in various outfits and positions. Lounging on a velvet-lined couch, standing in a rose garden, dancing on a table. Blowing a kiss. Winking.
Her name was Viola, and she was a minor goddess of something or other, as well as the keeper of Narcissism. He couldn’t help but compare her to sperm: she had about a one in three million chance of becoming a human being with actual emotions. The girl irritated the fire out of him.
He pounded down the stairs, then down another hallway, this one littered with ridiculous portraits of the warriors wearing ribbons and lace and smiles—and nothing else. They’d been painted by a dead man, if ever Kane met the guy, and had been commissioned by Lucien’s fiancée, Anya, the goddess of Anarchy, without permission.
Finally Kane reached his destination. Maddox and Ashlyn’s bedroom. His first stop on the Tour of Goodbyes.
Maddox was the keeper of Violence. Ashlyn was the new mother of the warrior’s twin babies.
For a long while, Kane watched Ashlyn, silent. She was a delicate beauty with honey-colored hair and skin, and she swayed in a rocker, singing to the bundle of joy clutched lovingly in her arms. Beside her, Maddox swayed in a second rocker. He was a brute of a man with black hair and violet eyes, and seeing him kiss the tiny fingers wrapped around his pinky did something to Kane’s insides. Twisted and knotted them, until he experienced the same lance of pain his pointy-eared rescuer had caused.
What was that?
William the Ever Randy—aka the Panty Melter, Kane thought with an eye-roll—sat at the edge of the king-size bed, a pink comforter plumped around his battle-honed body. Somehow, the feminine coverlet failed to diminish the savage intensity of his strength. He wasn’t demon-possessed. No one knew what he was, exactly. All they knew was that he had a temper rivaled by few, and a mean streak longer than any Kane had ever before encountered. He smiled when he killed his enemies—and laughed when he stabbed his friends.
“When’s it gonna be my turn?” William whined. “I want to hold my preciouses. Preciousees? Whatever. I want!”
O-kay. That was new.
“They aren’t yours,” Maddox snapped, doing his best to whisper for the sake of the babies.
“They kind of are. I delivered them,” William pointed out.
“I conceived them.”
“Big deal. Most guys can do that. Not many have the know-how to slice a woman from hip to hip and dig the little creatures out of her … uh, never mind,” William said as a fierce growl rose from Maddox.
Expecting a fight, Kane stepped inside to claim the baby.
William’s electric blues swung his way. “Disaster. Couldn’t stay away from the most delightful darlings ever born? Oh, yes, you are,” he cast at the children. “Yes, yes, you are.”
Baby talk. Disgusting.
The negative reaction surprised him. Once, he would have been right there beside William, saying the same things, in the same manner. In the dark of night, he used to dream of such a happily ever after for himself. A loving wife. Adoring children. Then the minions had tried to steal his seed and he … he …
“Don’t call me by the demon’s name,” he snarled, then realized his fervency had caused the children to jolt awake and cry. Shame coursed through him. “Sorry. But I’m not that disgusting piece of—” Yelling again. “Sorry. Just watch your mouth, okay?”
“Hush now,” William said sternly, and Kane had no idea who the command was for.
Didn’t matter, really. Everyone quieted.
Ashlyn glanced over at Kane, her amber eyes welcoming. She looked nothing like Kane’s woman—no, not his, he quickly amended—and yet she reminded him of the girl. The delicacy of her bone structure, perhaps. Or the depth of her concern for those around her, maybe. “Do you want to hold Urban?”
“No, thank you,” he replied at the same time Maddox said, “No, he doesn’t.”
A stilted moment of silence elapsed.
Kane ignored the hurt the words caused. The refusal was justified. He was a danger to everyone he encountered. Had his mind not been such a mess, constantly feeding the demon the tastiest of meals, light bulbs would have been shorting out and the walls and floors would have been cracking.
“I just wanted to get a look at them before … Well, I’ll be leaving a little later today. I’ve got a female to help.” He cleared the clog of emotion from his throat.
“Well, come on, then,” Ashlyn said. “Sabin and Strider mentioned the pointy-eared woman from New York. I like the sound of her.”
“She’s …” Magnificent. Lovely. Witty. “Something.” His insides tightened as he approached the rockers.
William stood to do the same, remaining by his side, stiff, his hand poised over the hilt of a dagger. To protect the babies from Kane’s affliction? Yeah. Probably.
Can’t blame him.
“You gettin’ so close to me ’cause you’re trying to taste my flavor, Willy boy?” he said to the warrior who had yet to back off. Teasing was better than raging. Or worse. Crying.
“Maybe.” William allowed a few more inches of space. “But you just ruined it. Flavor? Seriously? I like my conquests with a little more maturity.”
“I’m mature. I’m even old enough to plow your mom.”
“Please. She would eat your liver for lunch and your kidneys for dinner.”
“Could you guys be any more disgusting?” Ashlyn asked.
“Yes,” they said in unison.
Urban chortled, as if he understood. The kid had a full head of black hair, and his eyes were the same shade of violet as his father’s—though they were far more serious and too intelligent for a newborn. As Kane looked him over, two horns rose from the baby’s skull, and black scales appeared on his hands.
“Defensive actions?” he asked.
“We think so,” Ashlyn replied, sounding somewhat embarrassed. “He doesn’t mean any insult.”
“I know.” He shifted his gaze to Maddox. The female child, Ever, had the honey-colored hair of her mother, the strands wound into tight little curls. Her eyes swam with orange and gold flames, and a mouthful of teeth peeked out from under her lips.
The twins had been born a little over a month ago, and yet they appeared quite older.
The boy stared at Kane as if plotting his murder.
The girl looked him over and dismissed him, concentrating on William and holding out her arms. Grinning, William claimed her from her father. She nuzzled against the warrior’s neck, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing with contentment.
“Isn’t she the best?” William said, his grin widening. “She used to have claws, but they shrank. Didn’t they, princess? Oh, yes, they did, but they’ll come out to play if some dumb loser ever tries to take what you don’t want to give, won’t they?”
Another sharp pain tore through Kane’s chest. “The children are beautiful,” he told the beaming parents, and he meant it. He removed a bejeweled dagger from the sheath at his side, and handed it hilt first to Maddox. “This is for Ever, from her uncle Kane.”
Maddox nodded his head in acceptance.
He palmed the matching dagger, and placed it on the small table beside Ashlyn. “This is for Urban.”
She offered a soft, sweet smile in thanks. “How wonderfully thoughtful. The children will love them, I know it.”
“Well, I don’t. Put those dangerous things away,” William chided. “My darlings can’t play with knives for another couple of months. And why are you giving them presents now? Why can’t you wait until the appropriate time and—” His gaze zeroed in on Kane, and he pressed his lips together.
Did he suspect the truth—that Kane was leaving for good?
Whatever. Kane ignored him, slapping Maddox on the shoulder. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Words cannot express what you mean to me.” He didn’t wait around for the warrior’s reply; he couldn’t. The backs of his eyes were burning. He must have gotten dust in them.
He strode from the room, intending to hunt down the remaining warriors he loved more than life. Torin, Lucien, Reyes, Paris, Aeron, Gideon, Amun, Sabin, Strider and Cameo. Over the centuries, they’d fought together, avenged each other, saved each other. Yes, for many years they’d been split into two different groups, one determined to battle the Hunters, the other determined to exist in peace. But at heart, they’d always been together. And in the end, the war had boiled over, bringing them back to the same purpose. Survival.
Each warrior would be devastated by his departure. He knew that for a fact—because they’d once lost another of their brethren. Baden, the keeper of Distrust. They had mourned for centuries, and still hadn’t truly recovered. But Kane didn’t have a chance to hunt down a single person. William swept up to his side, keeping pace.
“You’re leaving,” the warrior said.
“Yes.” He’d already admitted that much.
“Forever.” A statement, not a question.
He wanted to lie. William could try to stop him. William could tell the others, and they could try to stop him. Still he said, “Yes.” Demons loved lies, and while there wasn’t much Kane could do to deny Disaster pleasure, telling the truth was one of them.
“Well, I’m going with you,” William announced.
Kane stopped and faced the male, irritation hanging in the air as heavily as shackles.
Shackles.
Breathe. “Why?” His tone lashed with more force than he’d intended. “You don’t even know where I’m going or what I’m planning.”
A shrug of those wide shoulders. “Maybe I could use a distraction. I’ve been hunting a Sent One, some punk kid named Axel, but he’s proven to be wily and it’s starting to annoy me.”
Sent Ones policed the skies, killing demons. They were winged, like angels, but as vulnerable to their emotions as humans. Right now, the Lords and the Sent Ones were on the same team.
Everyone knew that could change at any moment.
Kane narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you think I need a babysitter.”
“That, too.” As always, William was utterly unabashed.
“Well, no thanks. I don’t need you, and I certainly don’t want you nearby, bugging me all the time.”
William clutched his heart, as though offended. “What’s wrong with you? You used to be so sweet.”
“People change.”
“Not me. I’ve never been sweet, and I never will be. Your needs and wants don’t matter to me. I’m more concerned with saving my babies. I have to make sure you live up to your word and stay away from the fortress. Have you forgotten you’re destined to start an apocalypse?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Los Angeles
APOCALYPSE. THE WORD echoed in Kane’s mind for days. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t escape it.
Right before he was captured by the Hunters and escorted into hell, the Moirai had summoned him to their realm in the lowest level of the skies.
The three keepers of fate were neither Greek nor Titan. He thought they might be witches, but he wasn’t sure. They’d told him three things—one for every witch. He could marry the keeper of Irresponsibility. He could marry another female—William’s daughter. And lastly, he would cause an apocalypse.
He believed them. To his knowledge, their predictions had never been wrong.
He knew there were two definitions for the word he would love to forget. The first: to uncover or reveal. More specifically, to give revelation, especially concerning a cataclysm in which the forces of good permanently triumphed over the forces of evil.
That, he liked.
The second? Not so much. Universal or widespread devastation.
With the demon of Disaster living inside him, he had to assume he would be responsible for widespread devastation.
“You won’t regret a pit stop like this,” William said, pushing his way through the crowded nightclub. He had to yell to be heard over the erratic pulse of rock screaming from large speakers. “It’s just what the doctor ordered—that, and a pair of testicles, but I can only deliver on the first.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said drily.
Kane had made the mistake of sharing a motel room with William, and apparently he’d thrashed and moaned in his sleep, giving Detective William a few hints about what had happened in hell. Now the warrior was convinced a night with a woman of Kane’s choosing was the only way to ever really heal.
“By the way,” William added, “you can call me Dr.
Love.”
“I’d stab you in the heart before I called you that.” He stayed on William’s tail, already wishing he’d said no to this. He should be hunting his Fae. And he would have been, if he weren’t just desperate enough to try anything.
What William told him this morning made sense, in a sick, twisted way. If Kane could be with a woman of his choosing … if he could control how things went down … if he could use someone the way he’d been used … maybe the dark cloud of his memories would finally dissipate. Maybe he would stop hurting when he neared the Fae. Without the pain, he would be stronger, more alert. He would have a better chance of helping her with her problems.
At least, for tonight, he didn’t have to worry about her. She was alive, holed up, and safe. With some fancy computer work, illegally tapping into satellite feed, Torin had found her in Montana. Kane had only to swoop in and grab her.
Soon I’ll be ready.
Disaster banged against his skull. A second later, the floor cracked at Kane’s feet.
Apparently, the mire of Kane’s emotions no longer satisfied the demon. Since leaving the fortress, any time Kane even considered helping the Fae, Disaster worked himself into a frenzy.
Hate her, the demon snarled.
The person passing by him tripped and fell, and bone snapped. A howl of agony blended with the pulse of music.
Grinding his teeth, Kane followed William up a flight of stairs, thankfully leaving the bar and dance area behind. Almost to the top, the step under his boot broke, and he fell to his knees.
Disaster laughed, proud of himself.
Kane blanked his mind before he erupted, stood and stomped the rest of the way up. He spotted a big red door at the end of a long hallway, with an armed guard posted in front. The male was tall and muscled, but human. Hardly a threat, even with a weapon.
The guard grinned with genuine happiness when he spotted William. “Willy! Our best money-maker is back.”
William grinned, saying to Kane, “Sometimes, when I’m bored, I do a little Magic Mike show for the ladies. Very tasteful. I’ll get you tickets.” He returned his attention to the guard. “My boy here needs the private room.”
“Sure, sure. Anything for you.” The guy opened the door, but Kane couldn’t see past the thick cloud of shadows. He heard gasping, the slap of skin against skin, moans and groans, and then curses as the guard “helped” the couple stop and dress. A moment later, the pair was tripping past the entrance, red-faced as they pulled on their clothes.
The guard reappeared, his grin wider than before. “All yours, Willy.”
William pushed Kane inside. “Did you see anyone you wanted on the way up here?”
“Anyone will do.” A woman was a woman, as far as he was concerned.
Just as soon as the thought registered, some part of his mind spit and hissed at it. The Fae wasn’t just—whatever. No thinking about her. Anyone was better than a demon minion, and that’s all his sense of choice cared about.
“Give me five minutes,” William said. “I know the working girls. I’ll find you someone who will let you take her any way you want her.”
Crude, but necessary.
The door shut, sealing Kane inside. The pungent smell of sex thickened the air and his stomach filled with acid. He hated the dark, and quickly flipped on the light. In front of him was a wet bar, and beside it a couch, the cushions askew. On the coffee table was a box of condoms. At the other end of the room was a small bathroom with only a toilet and a sink, and beside it a queen-size bed with the covers tangled in a heap at the end. There was a condom stuck to the top.
After pouring himself a shot of whiskey—then another and another and another, then deciding to take the entire bottle with him—Kane settled on the couch.
By the time the door opened a short while later, the bottle was empty. Alcohol never affected him as strongly as it did a human, and only served to dull out the fiercest of his emotions. That dullness was desperately needed now. His limbs were trembling, and sweat had beaded over every inch of his skin. He expected to melt—or shatter—at any moment.
William walked in with a pretty blonde tucked into his side. She wore a short red dress and lipstick to match, and she was smiling at something the warrior had said.
“This is my friend.” William motioned to Kane with a tilt of his chin. “The guy I was telling you about. He’ll pay you whatever you want. Just make sure you do whatever he wants.”
Kane set the bottle on the ground, pretending he wasn’t about to vomit.
“Of course.” She bit her lip as she studied Kane. Interest lit her dark eyes. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
“Good,” William said, chucking her under the chin. “You have nothing to worry about. He won’t bite—unless you ask him real nice.” With that, the warrior took off, leaving Kane alone with the girl. The stranger.
His lungs constricted, nearly blocking his airways.
A moment of silence passed as she shifted from one high-heeled foot to the other. “You’re even more gorgeous than William promised.” There was a bead of excitement in her tone.
She was talking. Why was she talking? He didn’t want to have a conversation with her. He would begin to wonder what kind of life she’d led, what had brought her to this point, and he would feel sorry for her. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her.
Disaster hummed with contentment.
Contentment? Why?
Just get this over with. “Come here,” Kane said.
The female obeyed, slipping into the spot beside him. Her scent hit him, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. A cloying perfume, laced with the scent of cigarette smoke. Nothing like the Fae, who had smelled as though she’d spent the day in the kitchen. Like a wife.
Maybe he shouldn’t do this.
A gust of wind burst through the room, lifting the bottle of whiskey off the ground and slamming it into the woman’s chest.
“Ow!” she cried.
Kane cursed the day he’d stolen Pandora’s box.
She rubbed her chest, saying, “What just happened?”
“Could have been an air vent.” It was possible.
“Why don’t you kiss me better?” She inched closer to him.
“No kissing.” Harsh words. Even harsher tone.
“What about sucking? I’m really good at sucking.” She leaned over to unfasten his pants, but Kane flipped her over. He pressed her stomach into the cushions of the couch, holding her down. He didn’t want anyone’s lips on him.
“We do this my way.” Bile rose as he lifted the hem of her dress and tugged down her panties. Though he would have rather sawed off one of his limbs, he unbuttoned his pants, undid the zipper. The trembling of his hands magnified. Acid rose from his stomach and collected in his throat, scorching him. He paused.
What was the problem? He’d done this before. When he’d realized relationships weren’t feasible, he’d lived off one-night stands. At least for a little while. But none of them had ever broken him down like this….
“Am I doing something wrong?” she asked.
Gritting his teeth, he sheathed himself in a condom and … and …
Do it! Disaster commanded.
He took her.
He was rough, ragged, utterly without sensuality and carnal ambition. He had no focus, no desire to watch her reach climax. His mind despised this. And yet, his body liked it. But then, his body was a traitor. It had liked what the minions had done, too, and that’s what haunted him most. That a part of him had enjoyed his own violation.
This had been a mistake.
He didn’t want this woman, didn’t know her, might not even like her if he did. She wasn’t … her, the Fae his instincts craved so desperately.
Disaster cursed at the direction of his thoughts.
And as the female groaned to encourage him, images began to fill his head. Hands here … mouths there … minions everywhere …
Nearing panic, Kane somehow, some way, managed to finish. He wasn’t sure whether or not he’d gotten her off, and at the moment, he didn’t care.
The demon’s curses tapered into statements of approval.
Fighting a tide of self-disgust, Kane discarded the condom and fixed his clothing, then threw a few hundreds on the couch cushions beside her. He walked to the door, and motioned her out. First thing he saw was William taking a woman against the wall. The guard was nowhere to be seen.
“But … don’t you want my number?” asked the blonde. “In case the urge strikes again? I’ll make myself available to you any day, any time.”
“No,” he said, being blunt to be kind. He would never call her, and he didn’t want her hoping for the impossible.
“Was I not what you were looking for?”
“No. You weren’t. Now leave.”
Sighing, she straightened her dress and strode out of the room, the hall.
“All done?” William called. He hadn’t pulled from the woman, but he’d stopped moving at least.
More, Disaster said.
As much as Kane hated the words brewing at the back of his tongue, he said, “Bring me another one.” The sex hadn’t done what he’d wanted. The memories and all that came with them were still knocking at the door of his mind, ready to pounce. But Disaster was happy. So, Kane would take a second woman. And a third. However many proved necessary, until the demon was so saturated with satisfaction, he forgot what had happened.
Kane received an unapologetic and shameless thumbs-up before he shut the door, stalked to the bathroom and vomited. When he finished, he cleaned his mouth with the contents of another bottle of whiskey.
And not a second too soon.
A knock sounded at the door. William and a brunette strutted inside.
“How about this one?” the warrior asked.
“Whatever,” Kane said. “She’ll do.”
Before the night was over, Kane took twelve women. He used different positions, and different types of females. Girls in their twenties, women in their forties, more blondes, more brunettes and even two redheads. He hated every second, even hated himself. He vomited every time.
Disaster loved it all, and yet he never stopped tossing out images of Kane’s torture.
He hated the demon a thousand times more.
His time’s coming … soon …
The mountains of Montana
KANE HACKED THROUGH the foliage in front of him. Branches continually slapped at him, courtesy of Disaster. The satisfaction the creature had experienced during the sexual marathon hadn’t lasted long. Now, rocks rolled in his way, tripping him. Insects snapped at him.