The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld Book 7)
The Darkest Secret: Chapter 27

CLAWS SCRAPED AGAINST A nearby wall. “Haidee.” The eerie howl of her name echoed, blending with the swish of a robe.

Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

Haidee’s 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 she’d learned well.

“Little Haidee,” the voice sang, a whisper. “I know you’re close by. I can smell you.”

Please be a nightmare or another realm of hell, she thought desperately.

“You cannot hide from me, little Haidee. You have what’s mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Scraaape. “Hay…dee…finally, you’re going to give it back.”

Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

“Hay…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, wasn’t he?”

She cringed, fought a wave of sickness. No, not a nightmare, 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 head—not now, please not now—she jackknifed to her feet, wild gaze already searching. She didn’t see him, but that didn’t lessen her dread. She was still in the cave, Amun lying on the pallet he’d made for them.

He must have awoken at her movement, or maybe he’d heard the bastard’s 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 didn’t have to. Since making love that second time, they’d been utterly attuned to each other, and she’d actually felt his emotions for her, the sweet depths of his love.

“Haidee.” Hate was closer now. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

No. No, no, no. The memory would not consume her. Since meeting Amun, she’d 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. She’d known this day would come. She just hadn’t expected it to come now. No warnings, no sensing Hate’s approach. Just hello, terror.

Actually, no. The old crone at the circus had tried to warn her, hadn’t she? “Soon” 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.

“Haidee girl. Dead girl. You have what’s mine. You’re not going to die before I can take it. Not this time. That will come after.”

Blood, a river between her mother and her father. Both helpless…dead.

Her molars ground together. “What are you planning? He’s not like your friends,” she whispered. “Not human in any way.”

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. That’s why he was sent to Tartarus.

She couldn’t 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 Amun’s head, which in turn caused them to flash in hers. He was fast, too fast, his strength unparalleled. Haidee was the only person who’d ever walked away from him, and she’d done so only because the cold had surprised him. He wouldn’t be surprised this time.

“We can’t fight him. We’ll lose.”

I fought gods all the time when I lived in the heavens.

“Yes, and that was thousands of years ago, and you had an immortal army as backup. Right now it’s just me and you. He’ll slaughter us.”

We’ll think of something.

Secrets disagreed, and his certainty swam through her.

“No matter what we do, I’m going to die today,” she said flatly. The demon wasn’t even trying to hide the realization, the knowledge now as much a part of her as Hate. She wasn’t ready, though. Needed more time.

No. No, you’re not. I won’t let you.

Just as surely as she could discern Secrets’s knowledge, she could feel Amun’s 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.

“Listen to me.” As she spoke, she forced herself to accept her fate. She would die—in her way—and she would hurt. So what. She’d done it before. And this time, she’d do it for Amun. There was no greater reason. “In a few days, I’ll be in my cave. No,” she rushed out when his gaze swung to her. “Don’t say anything. And don’t…don’t come for me. I won’t remember you, and I’ll attack you. But I think—” hoped “—I’ll dream of you again and when the hate settles, I’ll come for you. We’ll be together again.”

You’re not dying. Not this time. I’ll die first.

That’s what she feared most. “Just…let him have a go at me,” she pleaded. “You heard him. He wants his demon back, and he’s not leaving without it.”

He won’t be leaving, anyway.

Oh, Amun. Stubborn to his core. “Something’s changed. Always before, he kept his distance when he found me, afraid to touch me. This time, I don’t think he’s afraid.”

He is. A little.

But not enough. “Good,” she forced herself to say. “I can work with that. You’ll stay here, and I can—” No!

She knew she’d just insulted Amun’s warrior core, but she didn’t want to risk his life. She would come back. He would not. “Amun, just listen to me. I don’t want you to fight him, either. He’s a freaking god.”

Demigod. And you can’t stop me.

“Whatever. You know the outcome. We both know the outcome. Your demon is not—”

“Haidee…mine…mine, you have what’s mine,” that despised voice from her past said. Hate didn’t sweep through the cave’s only opening. He simply walked through the wall to stand in front of her and Amun. “Together again, at long last. The thief will finally have her due. You took what’s mine. I want it back.”

“Repeat ourselves much?” 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 couldn’t feel ghosting around him.

Don’t approach him, Amun growled, inching away from her, severing contact. And don’t touch me. Okay? We need to engage him verbally if we’re to learn how to best him without engaging him physically.

Okay, she said. Lied. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. And why couldn’t she touch Amun? When his shoulder had pressed into her, she’d read his mind, his demon. Now, there was…nothing.

Amun gave a jerky nod to let her know he’d heard her reply before their connection had been severed.

Hate hadn’t spoken during the byplay, had merely watched them. Now a low growl erupted from his throat. “You’ve been together. Demon and Hunter.” The words carried a hint of fire. “You do not deserve pleasure, Haidee my girl. Mine. After what you did to me, you deserve only pain.”

“What happened here is none of your business,” 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 don’t know.

Before she could respond, Hate’s growl sharpened like the deadliest of blades. “I want what’s mine, and you will give it to me.”

Amun’s arm stretched out, a hard block that prevented her from moving forward—or 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.

“Do you have no response, little Haidee? Dead Haidee?”

Even as Amun warned her to keep quiet, she said, “What if I decide to keep it?” She didn’t want the bastard’s attention riveted on her man. Hate could move too quickly, kill before his victim could even blink. Hell, Hate could walk through walls, as he’d already proven, and simply attack Amun from behind. “Forever.”

Damn it, Amun cursed. Are you trying to ring the starting bell? I just need a little more time. I’m having trouble reading him.

Clawed hands curled into fists, peeking out of the long sleeves of that dark robe. “You will give me what’s mine. Give it now.”

“No,” she said with false calm, “I don’t think I will.”

The wind whipped up, agitating the hem of his robe. “I’ll make you.”

“Will you really? Then why haven’t you already?”

Wind, wind, so much wind.

If she wasn’t careful, the bastard would attack no matter what she did or said. “Will I die if I do give you what you want?” she asked, pretending she was thinking it over.

Good. That’s good.

“Give. Me.”

He hadn’t answered her question, she noticed. “You know what? If you want that piece of the demon back so badly, you come over here and take it.”

What? Amun shouted, the wind rocking through the entire cavern.

Like I said, he can’t do it on his own or he would have already. He has to have my cooperation. I’m just reminding him of that.

Dark tension pulsed from that floating body. “Now, Haidee. Is that any way to speak to your lover?” 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.

“You have never been my lover,” she spat.

“Are you sure?” 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.

“No,” she said, shaking her head violently. “No!” She would have known. Would have sensed. There would have been a clue. Something, anything. Right? Like the fact that he’d gotten it wrong. She and Micah had never been lovers. Not really.

He wasn’t the Micah you were with, sweetheart. Amun’s voice soothed her rising disgust.

“Yes,” Hate said. “I know you better than you know yourself, and knew you wanted this face. Therefore I gave you this face.”

He’s lying, I swear to you. But keep him talking. My demon is still rooting through his head and we’re close, so close to discovering how to defeat him.

“How did you find me?” she growled.

Hate glared at her, but he said, “The 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 didn’t expect to find you here, reeking of another demon.”

“So how do you have Micah’s face? How long have you been Micah? Where is the real Micah?”

Familiar lips curled into a smile. “Perhaps I was your Micah all along.”

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 hadn’t kissed this creature, hadn’t completed missions with this creature. Only Micah. Her relief was palpable. “And now the human is…?”

“Dead? Yes. I killed him. And do you know what? While he lay dying, I showed him your face.” For a split second, she saw her own face staring over at her. Then he returned to Micah’s image. “I told him how much you despised him.”

That is the truth. I’m sorry.

Dead. Micah was dead. And he’d been killed so cruelly, thinking she loathed him. Even though she had never truly loved Micah, she found that she mourned his loss. He’d had many flaws, but he had fought for what he’d believed in.

“Have you nothing more to say, dead Haidee, before I kill this warrior, too? And I will, you know. I will force you to watch—unless you give me what I seek. Now, now, now.”

He would, too, which meant they’d 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 Amun’s 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 he’d tried so hard to prevent, so desperate to find another way. And she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. Removing his demon completely will kill him the same way it would kill you. Won’t 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. You’ll be stuck with all of Hate, perhaps losing yourself to him, or, when Hate is finally put back together, you’ll expunge him and die.

I don’t care. If I die, I’ll come back.

And I don’t want your hands on him.

She didn’t want her hands on him, either. Didn’t want to touch the being that had slaughtered her family. For Amun, though…anything.

“All right. I’m willing to give you what you want,” she said to Hate.

Haidee, Amun warned.

She continued anyway. “For me to return your demon to you, you’ll have to let me touch you. And as you know, I can’t touch you without hurting you. That tiny piece of the demon hurt you coming out, right, so it stands to reason it’ll hurt going back into you. So don’t fight me, okay?” Because she wasn’t 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. “I will let you touch me.”

She experienced another beat of hope. Until—

“After I ensure your cooperation,” he finished. “Betray me, and your warrior dies. See?”

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 she’d feared. He shoved her out of the way, careful not to connect with her skin, and slammed a mighty fist into Amun’s head. Her warrior stumbled to the side but was quick to right himself—and 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, he’d 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 warrior’s 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.

“You are stronger than the others I killed on Haidee’s behalf, but like them, you will fall. I won’t slay you, though. No, I’ll just keep you close to the brink. And afterward, when I have all of my demon, I’ll let you go.”

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 she’d 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 wouldn’t 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 she’d never seen coming. She’d 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. She’d hurt him enough. She loved him more than her own life. More than that, she owed him. Hell, she owed his friends. They’d lost one brother because of her. She wouldn’t be the cause of Amun’s 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 weren’t 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 needed—the 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 invasion—and her intentions—no heed. She counted down…still watching…still waiting…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 Amun’s 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 she’d taken those demons from Amun, she’d had to lower her guard. She’d 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 demon—that hot, hot darkness inside him, scaled, with glowing red eyes—ran from her as the demons she’d 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 Hate’s 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 Hate’s 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 back—Amun 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 didn’t 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. He’d never looked so tormented.

She opened her mouth to reply, but something warm flowed from her mouth rather than words. Is he dead? She didn’t have the strength to push the words into his mind, but somehow he heard her anyway.

Yes, sweetheart, he’s dead. Tears glistened in his black gaze.

You’re sad? Don’t be sad, baby. We won. She tried to reach up, to brush those tears away, but again, she didn’t 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 wouldn’t be able to expel the demon, that he would forever be a part of her. If that were the case, she would deal.

He…fought you. He ravaged your throat.

She blinked, not understanding. Sweetheart, you’re…fading.

Fading? The red glow bathing his face was dimming. Did that mean… I’m…dying?

No! I’ll 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 didn’t want him hurt by images of her death the way she’d 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 hadn’t had to corner him and force him out. Amazed that she didn’t 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? Don’t you dare leave me!

I love you, she repeated, and then, because she couldn’t fight any longer, she allowed herself to be pulled the rest of the way into the darkness.

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