The Darkest Warrior by Gena Showalter
She paled but found the strength to hold her ground. "Go ahead. Show me your worst, then. Make me hate you."
He arched a brow. "You don't already?"
"Not yet, but I'm close."
If she hated him, parting with her would be easier.
Very well. Puck faltered a split second before summoning a new layer of ice, different emotions fading from his awareness. First hope, then any semblance of tenderness. Finally, desire.
Merciless, he lifted his arm and extended his index finger. Best Gillian learned how things would be between them. Threaten his victory in any way and suffer the consequences.
"Oh no. Not the finger," she said, her tone as dry as the sand dunes.
With his free hand, he made a fist around the finger--and snapped the bone like a twig.
Gillian screamed and clutched her injured hand to her chest. Her knees buckled, and she fell, agony twisting her features, every breath now labored.
After a few minutes of pain, however, the wound healed, thanks to Puck's age and experience.
She glared up at him. "Congratulations," she said, her tone flat once again. "You exceeded my expectations. You have my hate, and bonus, you have my mistrust. You're a sociopath willing to break a girl's bone to make a point."
"You're right. I am a sociopath. I feel nothing, want nothing."
"Ice, baby, ice," she muttered.
Could she feel the ice through the bond? "I see we understand each other," he said.
"Want to know what makes this whole thing even more awful? Sometimes you're actually kind of warm."
Him? Warm?
Shockingly--yes. Deep inside, a tendril of heat stirred, an instinct to protect her, never hurt her.
But still he said, "If you delay me, I'll break another bone. If you run from me, I'll cut out one of my organs every minute until you return. Because of our bond, you will lose the organs, too. And just so you know, I never make threats. I make promises. I always follow through."
She sputtered for a response.
Wasting time. When he marched forward, she had a choice: pursue him or delay him and suffer the consequences.
Though reluctant, she pursued.
The warmth continued to stir, until relief and guilt seeped through the ice. He found himself saying, "You'll be well occupied while I'm gone. You'll cook, clean and sew, like all the other females in Amaranthia."
"Are we rich?" she demanded.
"Very much so. Why?"
"Then I'll be paying someone to cook, clean and sew for me. And when we get that divorce--because we will--I'll be taking half of your belongings with me."
Now he wanted to smile with genuine amusement? Impossible. "In Amaranthia, the doorways between realms constantly move. I told my men to wait with our transportation at a fixed location, every day, until my return, no matter how much time passed."
"How wonderful for you."
"You should rejoice. As soon as we reach camp, you'll be rid of me. For a little while, at least."
The barest hint of eagerness vibrated along their bond, and he jolted. Her eagerness? His impatience?
Irritation sparked. For centuries, he'd had no problem ignoring, burying and erasing emotions. Now he had to battle his own--and hers?
"Well. What are you waiting for?" Gillian jutted her chin. "Put a little pep in your step, Pucky, and try to keep up."
*
Marching around Puck, doing her best to ignore the demonic snarls in the back of her mind, Gillian struggled to maintain her composure. Within the hour, her husband--loathe that word!--would exit the realm and leave her behind. He would find William and strike some kind of bargain. Maybe. If William felt like bargaining.
If not, Puck would try to make William feel like bargaining. Ruthless man!
He expected William to go to war with his brother, Sin. If Puck couldn't defeat him, how could William? Her friend would get hurt.
Somehow, she had to follow Puck out of Amaranthia, without getting caught, and warn William.
"Tell me more about the realm," she said. The more she knew, the better. "And about magic."
To her surprise, Puck complied. "Our ancestors claim three Oracles created Amaranthia as a safe haven for magic-wielders."
"Even safe havens can become a war zone, eh?"
He shrugged. "Kill a man, acquire his magic. For centuries, clans have been slaughtered, just so their magic could be stolen. Greed rules too many hearts."
To acquire magic of her own, she'd have to commit murder? Ugh.
They crested another sand dune, two men and three camels coming into view. Had to be their ride to camp! She picked up the pace. Except, when she stood before the animals, she gasped.
The animals were some kind of cross between camel, rhinoceros and something beyond hideous and utterly frightening, with a row of horns that went from its forehead, along the back of its skull, to its nape. It also had a mouthful of saber teeth and a blend of fur and scales, layered in shades of black and white, like a zebra.
One of the creatures disliked her on sight--the one she was supposed to ride. It bucked her off the first time Puck seated her. Spitting sand, Gillian stood.
"Stop playing around," he commanded. All liquid grace and masculine assurance, he settled atop the creature's back and held out his hand.
Close proximity to Puck the Liar while sitting on a monster-dinosaur-thing? Welcome to my nightmare. But even though she would rather run away screaming, she accepted his help without protest. Why fight the inevitable?
He lifted her with ease, his bicep barely flexing, and she refused, absolutely refused, to be impressed. She expected to ride behind him. The women of A-man-ranneth-thine-life-ia who cooked, cleaned and sewed clearly had their place, after all. But Puck placed her in front of him, surprising her.
"What is this thing, anyway?" she grumbled.
"A chimera." One muscular, bronzed arm wrapped around her waist to prevent another spill, and she tensed. If he copped a feel...
She might melt. Her body was already tingling, warming. But then she would erupt in fury! Absolutely. Probably.
She could not, would not, desire this man. No way, no how.
As his other arm stretched forward, she prepared for battle...but his fingers bypassed her entirely to tangle in the creature's mane, sending the chimera into a gallop.
A screech of shock split her lips as her surroundings blurred. She clung to Puck's arm, pretty sure her nails were slicing and dicing skin and muscle. A necessity as well as a sadistic pleasure, despite the sting in her own arm.
They traveled at warp speed, reaching camp only a few minutes later. Puck hopped down, lifted her and set her on her feet. Nausea churned in her stomach. Light-headed, she swayed...fell.
Her jerk of a temporary husband watched, once again not even trying to help her.
Buck up. He's leaving, and you're following. You'll beat him at his own game.
The chimera trotted off, purposely stomping on Gillian's hand. As bones snapped, she screamed. Sharp pains shot up her arm and pooled in her shoulder.
Puck's hand broke, too, but his emotionless expression never wavered.
When the worst of the pain subsided, she whimpered and clutched the new injury against her chest. But she didn't cry. She would shed no more tears for her treatment here.
You can break my bones, but you won't break my spirit.
"You're already healing. Shake off the pain and stand. Seeing you on the ground makes me--" His eyes narrowed, and he bared his teeth. "Stand. Now."
Seeing her like this made him...what? Feel guilty for his poor treatment of her?
Not so icy after all, huh. "I'm fine, thanks. And oh yeah. Screw you," she muttered, remaining in place as she looked around a thriving village.
Tents abounded, intermixed with mud huts. Multiple fire pits added a waft of heat to the wind, the flames licking the skinned animals currently anchored to spits. Children played in every direction. Males were shirtless, wearing only sh
Everyone had one thing in common. They were staring at her.
"This clan is made of outcasts," Puck explained, offering no further rebuke for her disobedience. A small mercy. "They value strength above all else and despise weakness."
So, basically, Gillian was the most despised girl in town already? Go me.
"Irish!" a female voice announced. "About time you returned. I'd started to think you'd died."
The growing crowd parted, revealing a twenty-something man and woman. And good gracious, they were gorgeous. Both had the most amazing lavender eyes rimmed with silver, hair the color of melted pennies and skin a few shades lighter. They had to be siblings.
Unlike the other males in the camp, this one wore a black T-shirt that read Winter Is Coming and a pair of jeans. Unlike the other women, this one wore a leather crop top connected by metal mesh to a matching miniskirt with pleats. The outfit was both sexy and protective.
Both the male and female had short swords strapped to their backs, the hilts rising over their shoulders.
They are magnificent, and I'm cowering on the ground.
Fast as she could, Gillian lumbered to her feet.
"This is Cameron, keeper of Obsession, and his sister, Winter, keeper of Selfishness," Puck said. "The friends I told you about. My only friends. Cameron, Winter, this is my...wife."
Gillian gulped. Obsession and Selfishness on top of Indifference--who was now expressing his displeasure with growls. Just peachy.
"Hello," she said, pushing the word past the barbed lump in her throat. Meeting new people had always been tough for her, and her association with Puck hadn't helped. Now she would forever wonder who plotted ways to take advantage of her.
Cameron looked her up and down and smiled a wicked smile. "Hello, beauty."
Winter looked her up and down as well, and promptly decided she wasn't worthy of a greeting. Her gaze returned to Puck. "Words cannot describe how much I missed you. But numbers can. Three out of ten. You promised me gold and jewels. I want my gold and jewels. And magic. Yeah, I'd like a little magic. Or a lot. Definitely a lot."
Ignoring her, Puck gave Gillian a gentle push in Cameron's direction. At least I'm not the only one to receive the silent treatment.
"I'm off to recruit William," he said to the other male. "I trust you're obsessed with Gillian's protection, now that you've met her? She is weak and fragile, aye, but she is also the key to my victory, and your sister's gold and jewels."
"Obsessed and impressed," Cameron said, his smile spreading.
Puck stiffened and ran his tongue over his teeth. "Gillian isn't to be touched. By anyone. Ever."
Well, well. The man had some scruples. Another small mercy.
Too little, too late.
And what did he mean, weak and fragile? Since she'd met him, she'd done her best to cope, adjust and thrive, despite the many obstacles.
"If, at any time, she desires a male," Puck added, his tone sharpening, "kill him. Do not hesitate."
"You can't be serious," she said, gaping at him.
Cameron rubbed his hands together, as if excited by the prospect. "Consider it done."
"What about me? Does no one want to kill the men I desire? Also," Winter added, deigning to focus on Gillian, "you're immortal now, which means your time here is your origin story. Every story needs a villain." She raised her hand. "I volunteer."
"Accepted," she replied, because she wouldn't be here long. She'd be right on Puck's heels. "Spoiler alert. Villains always die in the end."
Puck took her by the shoulders, ensuring she faced him, and stared down at her, his expression blank. When she refused to glance away first, he moved his hand into her hair and fisted the strands at her nape.
Just like that. Breath hitched in her lungs--and heated. She blamed their marriage bond. Oh, how she detested it!
"I'm going to tell you something my father told me when I was young," he said, his grip tightening. "If anyone harms you, kill first and ask questions later."
"You harmed me."
"You are an extension of me, which means I simply hurt myself." Leaning down, he brushed the tip of his nose against hers. "Try not to miss me, lass. I'll only be gone a hundred years, maybe two. Hardly a blip."
Jerk. "Yes, but only a few minutes, days or weeks will pass for you."
"You can use the time to strengthen. Train, learn how to fight."
He expected her to spend hundreds years without friends or family, living in unfamiliar terrain, training? He wasn't just indifferent; he was also insane.
"What if I'm killed while you're gone?" The words rushed from her. "You'll die, too. Just...take me with you and oversee my protection yourself." That way, she wouldn't have to risk following him on her own.
"You won't be killed, I promise. And I will be...annoyed if you are harmed."
Though his voice remained monotone, he somehow made the word annoyed sound like a threat to destroy the entire realm. "Annoyed? How terrible for you."
"You'll be well-guarded here," he continued, tilting his head to the side. "I promise."
"First of all, your promises mean nothing to me."
He shrugged. "That doesn't sound like a me problem."
Do not lash out. Do not dare lash out. "Second," she continued, "well-guarded things get boosted all the time and--"
"Enough." The lights in his irises brightened as he cupped her jaw and traced his thumbs over her cheeks. "I'm going to kiss you goodbye, wife. The barest tasting."
What! Her heartbeat stuttered against her ribs, her blood flashing white-hot in an instant. Tingles tantalized her breasts, and the now aching place between her legs. After everything he'd done, he expected a make-out session in front of other people?
"Why?" Really? I ask him why? I don't tell him to get bent?
Indifference tap-danced across her mind, sharp claws slicing through gray matter. She cringed, even whimpered.
"Focus on me, not the fiend," Puck said, perhaps recognizing the signs of the demon's interference.
She obeyed, peering up at him, this man who'd become her husband, who'd been at times unnecessarily cruel and at others surprisingly kind. How could she even consider kissing him? She didn't know him, not really, and definitely didn't trust him.
Despite those moments of kindness, he was a liar. He had ice for a heart. Or maybe that was why she should kiss him. He wouldn't get overly excited. He might not even get turned on. Which was what she wanted, kind of. But kind of...not.
Great! There were two Gillians again.
"You will remember me--think of me--while I'm gone," he said, and he wasn't asking a question but issuing a command.
Protest. Now. Before you start to panic, and the demon reacts worse. But...the part of her who wanted him turned on also wanted him to think of her while he was gone. Wanted him know what he'd lost the moment he'd used her.
Oh, really? What did he lose? Tell me.
Shut up.
Spiteful Gillian won. She rose to her tiptoes, saying, "Kiss me, then. I dare you."
He met her halfway, and slanted his lips over hers. Erotic flicks of his tongue coaxed more tingles to the surface and fanned the flames of desire. Hot, so wonderfully hot. The aches magnified as he thrust with more force, his divine taste and ever-increasing frenzied pace dragging a moan of surrender from deep inside her. A sound he utterly devoured, as if he'd never been so starved--or enjoyed a tastier meal.
His skill, expert. His ruthlessness, on full display.
Puck didn't bother to learn her, or explore her nuances; he took, gave and demanded...everything, his tongue dominating hers with a promise of untold riches. She was helpless to resist.
The demon quieted, her mind suddenly her own, different thoughts rabbling into her awareness, one after the other. This kiss was a horrible idea. This kiss was a wonderful idea. She'd had enough. She'd never have enough. This might help her. This would probably hurt her. Enslav
This was...delicious.
Then her thoughts quieted as well, her body taking charge. Her nipples puckered against her dress, as if seeking Puck's attention, and her belly quivered. Liquid heat soaked her panties, and her limbs trembled, hunger gnawing at her. Hunger that only intensified as his flavor registered: the most potent champagne.
More!
Just as she leaned into him, softening, flattening her hands on his pecs, he clasped her wrists, stopping her from making contact, and lifted his head.
"Do not touch my peacock tattoo, lass." The roughness of his tone thrilled her. "Not now, not ever. It's off-limits."
Gillian blinked back into focus, her mind forced to play catch up. Off-limits? Why?
Who cared? Breathe. She'd just experienced her very first kiss. No, she'd just experienced her very first kiss, and she hadn't panicked. Even better, she'd wanted--and given--pleasure.
I kissed a monster, and I liked it.
She should be beyond disgusted with herself. And Puck...he should be indifferent. Was he?
Did she want him to be?
"The demon returned to you?" she asked, embarrassed by the huskiness of her voice.
He nodded, his gaze hot on her, his pupils enlarged. "You were right before. Our deal is off. But we will make a new one. When I return--I will make you want me."
Before she could respond, he chucked her on the chin, turned and walked away.
What are you doing, just standing here mooning? Follow him! Right. Jolting into motion, Gillian took a step forward, but Winter and Cameron moved into her path, stopping her. Oh...crap. She was going to be stuck here, wasn't she?
While her plans crashed around her, Puck continued onward like a prisoner finally released from prison, never once glancing back.
Winter twirled a dagger. "You ready to have fun, little girl? Because I am."
15
A prickle of urgency beset Puck. To shake it, he would have to summon a fresh layer of ice, something he wasn't currently willing to do. There was no need. Except for a handful of hour-long silences, Indifference remained in his head, emitting a constant stream of noise, but never weakening him--and considering all the other things he was feeling, he should have weakened. The demon had lost the ability to act against him.
So why wasn't he overjoyed?