C nearby wall. âHaidee.â The eerie howl of her name echoed, blending with the swish of a robe.
Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helplessâ¦dead.
Haideeâs eyelids popped open, dread already curling in her stomach. She knew those sounds, knew that voice. Only a nightmare, she told herself, or another realm of hell. Trust no one and nothing. Except Amun. A lesson sheâd learned well.
âLittle Haidee,â the voice sang, a whisper. âI know youâre close by. I can smell you.â
Please be a nightmare or another realm of hell, she thought desperately.
âYou cannot hide from me, little Haidee. You have whatâs mine. Mine, mine, mine.â Scraaape. âHayâ¦deeâ¦finally, youâre going to give it back.â
Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helplessâ¦dead.
âHayâ¦dee⦠You hid when you were a little girl, too. Do you remember? I do. The screams, the splatter. The pleas. Your sister squealed like a pig when the blade sank into her belly. Your mother begged me to stop, to take you away. Your father, well, he was the first to die, wasnât he?â
She cringed, fought a wave of sickness. No, not a night mare, not another realm. There was too much glee in that tone. Too much truth to the memory.
Hate was here.
Somehow, the demon had found her. Had come for her. Again.
Denial roaring through her headânot now, please not nowâshe jackknifed to her feet, wild gaze already searching. She didnât see him, but that didnât lessen her dread. She was still in the cave, Amun lying on the pallet heâd made for them.
He must have awoken at her movement, or maybe heâd heard the bastardâs taunts. His eyes were already open. He sat up stiffly, pulled on a pair of pants and grabbed two blades without pausing to clear his head.
He asked no questions. Maybe he didnât have to. Since making love that second time, theyâd been utterly attuned to each other, and sheâd actually felt his emotions for her, the sweet depths of his love.
âHaidee.â Hate was closer now. âCome out, come out wherever you are.â
Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helplessâ¦dead.
No. No, no, no. The memory would not consume her. Since meeting Amun, sheâd barely thought of that night and thought perhaps she was finally healing. She would not be distracted. Not this time.
She dressed as swiftly as Amun had, then weaponed up. Sheâd known this day would come. She just hadnât expected it to come now. No warnings, no sensing Hateâs approach. Just hello, terror.
Actually, no. The old crone at the circus had tried to warn her, hadnât she? âSoonâ had finally arrived.
Amun tugged her toward the only entrance to the cave, pressed her to the side, out of striking distance, then turned and waited, ready to attack. His shoulder pressed into the center of her chest, holding her in place.
âHaidee girl. Dead girl. You have whatâs mine. Youâre not going to die before I can take it. Not this time. That will come after.â
Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helplessâ¦dead.
Her molars ground together. âWhat are you planning? Heâs not like your friends,â she whispered. âNot human in any way.â
I know, Amun finally said, dark and menacing as their thoughts merged. Secrets knows. He is more than immortal. He is a child of a goddess. Of Themis. Her son. Always he enjoyed killing, suffering. Thatâs why he was sent to Tartarus.
She couldnât hide her sudden spike of terror. Not from Amun. Her breathing grew shallow. Hate was the child of a goddess. A god himself. How would they defeat a god?
Secrets flashed images of Hate through Amunâs head, which in turn caused them to flash in hers. He was fast, too fast, his strength unparalleled. Haidee was the only person whoâd ever walked away from him, and sheâd done so only because the cold had surprised him. He wouldnât be surprised this time.
âWe canât fight him. Weâll lose.â
I fought gods all the time when I lived in the heavens.
âYes, and that was thousands of years ago, and you had an immortal army as backup. Right now itâs just me and you. Heâll slaughter us.â
Weâll think of something.
Secrets disagreed, and his certainty swam through her.
âNo matter what we do, Iâm going to die today,â she said flatly. The demon wasnât even trying to hide the realiza tion, the knowledge now as much a part of her as Hate. She wasnât ready, though. Needed more time.
No. No, youâre not. I wonât let you.
Just as surely as she could discern Secretsâs knowledge, she could feel Amunâs rising panic. She had to fight her own panic all the more stringently or they would feed off each other, make each other worse. Someone had to stay calm. Someone had to get Amun out of this alive.
It was already too late for her.
âListen to me.â As she spoke, she forced herself to accept her fate. She would dieâin her wayâand she would hurt. So what. Sheâd done it before. And this time, sheâd do it for Amun. There was no greater reason. âIn a few days, Iâll be in my cave. No,â she rushed out when his gaze swung to her. âDonât say anything. And donâtâ¦donât come for me. I wonât remember you, and Iâll attack you. But I thinkââ hoped ââIâll dream of you again and when the hate settles, Iâll come for you. Weâll be together again.â
Youâre not dying. Not this time. Iâll die first.
Thatâs what she feared most. âJustâ¦let him have a go at me,â she pleaded. âYou heard him. He wants his demon back, and heâs not leaving without it.â
He wonât be leaving, anyway.
Oh, Amun. Stubborn to his core. âSomethingâs changed. Always before, he kept his distance when he found me, afraid to touch me. This time, I donât think heâs afraid.â
He is. A little.
But not enough. âGood,â she forced herself to say. âI can work with that. Youâll stay here, and I canââ No!
She knew sheâd just insulted Amunâs warrior core, but she didnât want to risk his life. She would come back. He would not. âAmun, just listen to me. I donât want you to fight him, either. Heâs a freaking god.â
Demigod. And you canât stop me.
âWhatever. You know the outcome. We both know the outcome. Your demon is notââ
âHaideeâ¦mineâ¦mine, you have whatâs mine,â that despised voice from her past said. Hate didnât sweep through the caveâs only opening. He simply walked through the wall to stand in front of her and Amun. âTogether again, at long last. The thief will finally have her due. You took whatâs mine. I want it back.â
âRepeat ourselves much?â As the past collided with present, she wanted to vomit. As always, he wore a hooded black robe, his face cast in thick, impenetrable shadows. His feet floated just above the ground, a wind she couldnât feel ghosting around him.
Donât approach him, Amun growled, inching away from her, severing contact. And donât touch me. Okay? We need to engage him verbally if weâre to learn how to best him without engaging him physically.
Okay, she said. Lied. Maybe. She wasnât sure. And why couldnât she touch Amun? When his shoulder had pressed into her, sheâd read his mind, his demon. Now, there wasâ¦nothing.
Amun gave a jerky nod to let her know heâd heard her reply before their connection had been severed.
Hate hadnât spoken during the byplay, had merely watched them. Now a low growl erupted from his throat. âYouâve been together. Demon and Hunter.â The words carried a hint of fire. âYou do not deserve pleasure, Haidee my girl. Mine. After what you did to me, you deserve only pain.â
âWhat happened here is none of your business,â she said, raising her chin.
Haidee, watch your words. I said engage him, not infuriate him.
Good, they could still talk to each other. And just what can I say to make him want to stick around and chat, rather than do what he came to do?
I donât know.
Before she could respond, Hateâs growl sharpened like the deadliest of blades. âI want whatâs mine, and you will give it to me.â
Amunâs arm stretched out, a hard block that prevented her from moving forwardâor Hate from launching at her directly. She almost pushed that arm aside, but remembered his command not to touch him. Damn it. She wanted to save him, not offer him up as a replacement dinner.
âDo you have no response, little Haidee? Dead Haidee?â
Even as Amun warned her to keep quiet, she said, âWhat if I decide to keep it?â She didnât want the bastardâs attention riveted on her man. Hate could move too quickly, kill before his victim could even blink. Hell, Hate could walk through walls, as heâd already proven, and simply attack Amun from behind. âForever.â
Damn it, Amun cursed. Are you trying to ring the starting bell? I just need a little more time. Iâm having trouble reading him.
Clawed hands curled into fists, peeking out of the long sleeves of that dark robe. âYou will give me whatâs mine. Give it now.â
âNo,â she said with false calm, âI donât think I will.â
The wind whipped up, agitating the hem of his robe. âIâll make you.â
âWill you really? Then why havenât you already?â
Wind, wind, so much wind.
If she wasnât careful, the bastard would attack no matter what she did or said. âWill I die if I do give you what you want?â she asked, pretending she was thinking it over.
Good. Thatâs good.
âGive. Me.â
He hadnât answered her question, she noticed. âYou know what? If you want that piece of the demon back so badly, you come over here and take it.â
What? Amun shouted, the wind rocking through the entire cavern.
Like I said, he canât do it on his own or he would have already. He has to have my cooperation. Iâm just reminding him of that.
Dark tension pulsed from that floating body. âNow, Haidee. Is that any way to speak to your lover?â For the first time in their sporadic, centuries-long acquaintance, Hate flipped back the hood of his robe, freeing his features from those too-thick shadows.
She gaped, horrified. He was grotesque. His skin was rotted, pitted, and most of his hair was missing. The few patches there were were thin and coarse, frizzed. Rather than eyes, he watched her through two black holes of despair.
âYou have never been my lover,â she spat.
âAre you sure?â Before her eyes, his skin smoothed out, darkened. His hair grew, thick and black, glossy like silk. Beautiful brown eyes appeared in those fathomless holes.
Soon, beautiful Micah stood before her. Nearly identical to Amun, but without the sizzle of awareness.
âNo,â she said, shaking her head violently. âNo!â She would have known. Would have sensed. There would have been a clue. Something, anything. Right? Like the fact that heâd gotten it wrong. She and Micah had never been lovers. Not really.
He wasnât the Micah you were with, sweetheart. Amunâs voice soothed her rising disgust.
âYes,â Hate said. âI know you better than you know yourself, and knew you wanted this face. Therefore I gave you this face.â
Heâs lying, I swear to you. But keep him talking. My demon is still rooting through his head and weâre close, so close to discovering how to defeat him.
âHow did you find me?â she growled.
Hate glared at her, but he said, âThe phone call, how else? Once I locked onto your voice, it was only a matter of hours before I found you, wherever you happened to be. I admit, I didnât expect to find you here, reeking of another demon.â
âSo how do you have Micahâs face? How long have you been Micah? Where is the real Micah?â
Familiar lips curled into a smile. âPerhaps I was your Micah all along.â
No, Amun said. He became Micah a few days after Strider grabbed you.
Was Secrets revealing the truth to him? Because she believed Amun. Always. Which meant she hadnât kissed this creature, hadnât completed missions with this creature. Only Micah. Her relief was palpable. âAnd now the human isâ¦?â
âDead? Yes. I killed him. And do you know what? While he lay dying, I showed him your face.â For a split second, she saw her own face staring over at her. Then he returned to Micahâs image. âI told him how much you despised him.â
That is the truth. Iâm sorry.
Dead. Micah was dead. And heâd been killed so cruelly, thinking she loathed him. Even though she had never truly loved Micah, she found that she mourned his loss. Heâd had many flaws, but he had fought for what heâd believed in.
âHave you nothing more to say, dead Haidee, before I kill this warrior, too? And I will, you know. I will force you to watchâunless you give me what I seek. Now, now, now.â
He would, too, which meant theyâd run out of time. Her gaze shot to Amun. Have you learned the way to kill him without fighting him yet? Please, please, please.
A muscle jumped in Amunâs jaw, and several seconds ticked away. No.
That hesitation⦠He was lying. And suddenly, even without touching him, she knew what he was keeping from her, what heâd tried so hard to prevent, so desperate to find another way. And she couldnât believe she hadnât thought of it before. Removing his demon completely will kill him the same way it would kill you. Wonât it?
His head whipped in her direction, his eyes giving the briefest flare before he refocused on Hate. Haidee. You cannot do that. Because there are only two possible outcomes. Youâll be stuck with all of Hate, perhaps losing yourself to him, or, when Hate is finally put back together, youâll expunge him and die.
I donât care. If I die, Iâll come back.
And I donât want your hands on him.
She didnât want her hands on him, either. Didnât want to touch the being that had slaughtered her family. For Amun, thoughâ¦anything.
âAll right. Iâm willing to give you what you want,â she said to Hate.
Haidee, Amun warned.
She continued anyway. âFor me to return your demon to you, youâll have to let me touch you. And as you know, I canât touch you without hurting you. That tiny piece of the demon hurt you coming out, right, so it stands to reason itâll hurt going back into you. So donât fight me, okay?â Because she wasnât going to give him the demon. She was going to take it. All of it.
No matter the consequences to herself.
A long while passed in silence, Hate rigid as he pondered whether or not to trust her. Finally, perhaps realizing he could not have what he wanted any other way, he nodded. âI will let you touch me.â
She experienced another beat of hope. Untilâ
âAfter I ensure your cooperation,â he finished. âBetray me, and your warrior dies. See?â
Hope, completely dashed. And there was no more time to think, to prepare. One second Hate was in front of them, the next he was behind them, just as sheâd feared. He shoved her out of the way, careful not to connect with her skin, and slammed a mighty fist into Amunâs head. Her warrior stumbled to the side but was quick to right himselfâand just as quick to spin, blade slashing out.
Hate anticipated the move and dematerialized, reappearing behind Amun. Again. The creature had no weapons, but then, heâd never needed them before, so why would he now? He always used his claws. He slashed those claws at Amun, scraping the back of the warriorâs neck.
Amun howled inside his head, no sound escaping his lips. He spun, launched himself at Hate a second time. That black robe swished as the creature danced out of the way, and an eerie laugh filled the cave.
âYou are stronger than the others I killed on Haideeâs behalf, but like them, you will fall. I wonât slay you, though. No, Iâll just keep you close to the brink. And afterward, when I have all of my demon, Iâll let you go.â
A lie. She knew that soul-deep. He had no plans to let either of them go.
Haidee narrowed her eyes on the creature responsible for so much of her pain. He was Hate in its purest form. And she had a piece of him inside her. She had Hate. She drew on the emotion now, letting it fill her, consume her. The ice always churning inside her blossomed in her veins, turning her blood to sludge. Good. Yes. This was her purpose, after all. This was what the goddess had wanted her to do.
Destroy.
The warriors continued to fight, lashing out, connecting, blood spraying. Amun was faster than sheâd realized and managed to land several blows. In fact, the more he fought, the faster he became, until he seemed to anticipate exactly where Hate would reappear. Soon Amun was landing more punches and slices than his enemy.
Still. That wouldnât stop her from doing what needed to be done. Finally, she would end this.
The two slammed into the rocky walls of the cave, dust pluming around them. One would throw the other, and they would spring apart, only to fly at each other again. Snarls and growls reverberated, followed by the crack of broken bones, the sick whisper of flesh splitting apart.
She would have to jump into their midst.
A strange turn of events, one sheâd never seen coming. Sheâd fought all her life to stay alive, to avoid the sting of death and rebirth. Not this time, though. Better to die herself than to allow Hate to live. Better to die herself than to allow Amun to be hurt. Sheâd hurt him enough. She loved him more than her own life. More than that, she owed him. Hell, she owed his friends. Theyâd lost one brother because of her. She wouldnât be the cause of Amunâs loss.
Though she trembled, knowing deep down that this was going to hurt her more than it would hurt Hate, Haidee focused on Amun. On his thoughts. They werenât touching, but he was too busy to block her and soon she heard a whirl of commands, absorbed his knowledge and his fury, all the while sifting though the massive influx to find what she neededâthe urgings of his demon.
There! Suddenly she knew what Hate planned, three moves in advance. She watched. Waited. Amun was so focused on his opponent, he paid her invasionâand her intentionsâno heed. She counted downâ¦still watchingâ¦still waitingâ¦finally launching herself into the fray. She plowed into Hate just as he reappeared, her head connecting with his middle and her hands wrapping around his neck. They were skin to skin as they plummeted to the ground. Better yet, they were out of Amunâs range.
The moment they hit, she unleashed the cold. Hate screamed as ice formed on his heated body, connecting them, and he was unable to jerk away.
Haidee, she heard Amun scream inside her head.
She tuned him out, concentrating fully on her task. When sheâd taken those demons from Amun, sheâd had to lower her guard. Sheâd had to stop fighting him and let him in. Welcome him. She did that now, with Hate. Lowered her guard. Fighting him no longer.
She wanted his demon, and she would have it.
At first, the demonâthat hot, hot darkness inside him, scaled, with glowing red eyesâran from her as the demons sheâd absorbed had done. She was having none of that, however, and gave chase, the ice spreading. Soon there was nowhere else for the terrified demon to run. She had consumed Hateâs entire body.
She latched on to a sharpened claw. At the first moment of contact, pain exploded through her. She wanted to balk, to jump as far away as she could, but she merely held on tighter, heaving the being from Hateâs body into hers. Tug-of-war, and she would win.
Despite the ice, Hate thrashed against her, pushed against her. Still she held on, still she tugged. Then that ice began to melt, leaving her. Just as before, fire bloomed in its place, spreading, and acid started flowing through her veins. Spiderwebs winked through her vision, and dizziness bombarded her.
The darkness that had been a part of her for centuries cried out in welcome as the demon High Lord slipped into her little by little. No longer did she have to tug. The demon wanted inside her now, was even aiding her, desperate to crawl in, to be whole again.
Almost over, she thought, hurting so badly tears were streaking down her cheeks.
Suddenly there was a pain of another kind tearing through her neck, her backâAmun started shouting again, perhaps crying, but she hardly noticed. Her insides were too busy burning to ash.
And then she was being pulled away from the former keeper of Hate. She didnât protest; she had the demon now. All of the demon, and it was zipping through her mind, banging into her skull, filling her up, consuming her.
Haidee, sweetheart. Please. Let me see those beautiful eyes.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she saw that Amun was looming over her, bathed in red. Blood? But blood had never glowed like that before.
Sweetheart, oh, gods, sweetheart. Heâd never looked so tormented.
She opened her mouth to reply, but something warm flowed from her mouth rather than words. Is he dead? She didnât have the strength to push the words into his mind, but somehow he heard her anyway.
Yes, sweetheart, heâs dead. Tears glistened in his black gaze.
Youâre sad? Donât be sad, baby. We won. She tried to reach up, to brush those tears away, but again, she didnât have the strength.
Oh, sweetheart. Soft fingers smoothed her brow.
Her heartbeat was slowing, then fluttering, almost nonexistent. Thankfully, though, the cold was returning to her limbs, dousing the fire. Once the ice returned, she thought, she could expel the demon, right? And she and Amun could be together.
Amun had feared she wouldnât be able to expel the demon, that he would forever be a part of her. If that were the case, she would deal.
Heâ¦fought you. He ravaged your throat.
She blinked, not understanding. Sweetheart, youâreâ¦fading.
Fading? The red glow bathing his face was dimming. Did that meanâ¦Â Iâmâ¦dying?
No! Iâll do something. There has to be something. Amun leapt into motion, dragging the backpack next to her. With shaky hands, he reached inside and withdrew bandages and other materials to try and save her. Stay with me, sweetheart. Okay?
She was. She was dying.
She tried to obey him, she really did. Not because she feared the pain that awaited her, but because she wanted to be with this man always. She didnât want him hurt by images of her death the way sheâd been hurt by images of her family. So she fought the cold, the weakness. And while she fought, she realized she could expunge the demon, because a scaled, fanged and clawed creature rose from her skin, its eyes bright red.
Amun watched, horrified. She watched, too, amazed that she hadnât had to corner him and force him out. Amazed that she didnât hurt anymore. But when the beast darted out of the cave, roaring hysterically, she found there was nothing left to tether her to her body. Darkness was pulling at her.
Her organs were shutting down, the ice that had saved her now killing her. She knew the feeling well. Had experienced it hundreds of times before. This was the end of her.
I love you, she told Amun.
He never stopped bandaging her wounds. Then stay, damn it. Fight this. Haidee! Do you hear me? Donât you dare leave me!
I love you, she repeated, and then, because she couldnât fight any longer, she allowed herself to be pulled the rest of the way into the darkness.