Gena Showalter - The Darkest Whisper

Another boom, another shake.

“This isn’t over. If she fights her way down, fine,” he told the boy as he stomped to the exit, “but do not let her out of this room.”

Though Sabin and Gwen hadn’t been spotted by any Hunters or frisked by security—Doubt had earned its keep, making everyone around them doubt everything they saw—the flight to the States had been hard, in every sense of the word. Gwen had snuggled up next to Sabin, hour after hour, and he hadn’t been able to touch her the way he craved. And he wouldn’t, not in front of witnesses and not until she trusted him. Winning her heart and her trust was the most important battle of his life, and for once he’d decided not to rush it.

I will have her.

When they’d deplaned, Sabin, who was used to being around humans, having them stare at his height and muscled strength, hadn’t liked the way males had stared at his woman. Their desire had been obvious.

Drove him freaking insane. Which was why he’d allowed Doubt to swoop into those human minds and fill them with insecurities about their appearance, their prowess in bed—and why he’d been tempted to erupt into one of Maddox’s famous violent fits. He’d managed to control himself, keeping his eye on the prize: the safe return of his friends. But only because Gwen hadn’t seemed to notice the gaping, the drooling mouths, and the stopping dead in their tracks.

They’d immediately driven to the house the warriors had been staying at, a house miles from anything and everything. They’d watched it for a bit, ascertaining two things: one, the warriors weren’t there and two, Hunters hadn’t been there and planted little presents. Too bad about the lack of Hunters, if you asked Sabin. He was ready for action.

He and Gwen had loaded themselves with weapons, each grabbed a ball cap to hide their hair and shield their faces, and headed to the only other place he knew his friends would have gone. Now they walked the street in front of a row of buildings, and he knew he was close to the training facility, but…he couldn’t find it. Each building blended into the next. And each time he counted off, he lost track of their numbers.

Gwen paused and rubbed the back of her neck, staring up into the sky. “This is hopeless. We’re in the right place. Why can’t we find it?”

He sighed. Maybe it was time to bring out the big guns. If the god king would respond to him for once. “Cronus,” he muttered, “a little help would be nice. You want us to succeed, right?”

A moment passed, then another. Nothing happened.

He was just about to give up when suddenly Gwen gasped. “Look.”

Sabin followed her gaze, experienced a jolt of shock. There, on the roof of the building to their right, a building Sabin had somehow overlooked time and time again, stood the god king. The building seemed to shake beneath him. His white robe whipped around his ankles. After being ignored for so long, Sabin was being aided? And so easily?

“Now you owe me, Doubt, and I always collect.” Cronus disappeared a second later.

It would benefit Cronus for Sabin to win this day. The god should have been happy to aid the cause, not demanding favors in return.

“Who was that?” Gwen asked. “How did he do that? And do you think my…Galen is in there?”

Sabin explained about Cronus. “Galen…I don’t know. What if he is? Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes.” No hesitation this time, though there’d been an edge to her tone.

Was he asking too much of her? Sabin didn’t have parents. The Greeks had created him already fully formed. As there was no love lost between him and the former gods, he couldn’t even fathom a guess as to how Gwen was feeling.

“I’ll be fine,” she added, as if she read his thoughts. “After everything he’s done, he needs to be taken down.”

There at the end, her voice had trembled. Sabin decided then and there to intervene if Galen opted to join the fray—which wasn’t likely to happen as the bastard always cut and run, leaving his lackeys to do his dirty work. Hope placed himself before others, and always had. But Sabin didn’t want Gwen regretting anything; he didn’t want her to later blame him for her actions—or his own, he thought with a sinking stomach. He’d wondered before but couldn’t help doing so again: Would she hate him if he was the one to defeat and restrain her father?

Only two things mattered to Sabin right now: Gwen and his friends’ safety. In that order. She came first, now and always. Nothing would change that.

“Let’s do this,” she said softly, and trekked forward.

“Before we go in there,” he said, keeping pace beside her, “I want to tell you again that I love you. I love you so much I ache with it. I just…I wanted you to know in case anything happens.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.” She stumbled, caught herself. “But I love you, too. I do. There’s no denying that anymore. I’m still not sure about you, though. I, just, I don’t know. Doubt is like my pet now, and I like that. Really. I just—”

“It’s okay.” She loved him. Thank the gods, she loved him. He drew her to a halt and pulled her into his embrace, hating her words, but understanding nonetheless. He should have trusted her. From the beginning, he should have placed her first. “We’ll figure all of that out later. I promise. I don’t want any worries on your mind right now. Distractions can get you—”

“Killed,” she finished for him, smiling. “I paid attention to your lessons.” She tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head in the hollow of his neck. Her hair was soft against his skin. “You be careful in there.”

Gods, he adored this woman. Her strength, her courage, her wit. “You, too. Whatever you do, save yourself. Understand me?” he said fiercely. “I’d be lost without you.”

“I will.” She gave a half-amused, half-strained smile. “That’s Harpy code, after all.”

He kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him then, her lips puffy and red and he couldn’t resist. He meshed their mouths together, his tongue sweeping inside hers with a possessive thrust. Her hands lifted, tangling in his hair, and she moaned.

He swallowed the sound, savoring it, letting it fill him up. Here was his life, in his arms, all he needed. But he forced himself to pull away. “Come on. I want to get this over with so that you and I can talk. Why don’t you go through the front door, and I’ll take the back. We’ll scope out each entrance, meet in the middle.”

With another swift kiss to her mouth, Sabin started forward again. The sun burned bright, glaring down at him. He kept his face down, hoping he wouldn’t be recognized if cameras were scanning the area.

Can you do this?

Yes.

What if you fail?

I won’t .

What if Gwen is hurt?

She won’t be . He would make sure of it.

“Pick up the pace, slowpoke.” A slight breeze caressed his face as Gwen jumped into hyperdrive and passed him, her wings giving her a speed he could never hope to match. That didn’t stop him from trying, though. He didn’t want her in that building alone. He quickened his steps and raced around back. There he found a fence with spikes that stretched toward the sky and electric wires that circled every slat.

Usually he took his time and disabled such wires. Today, he didn’t have that luxury. He simply climbed. The shocks that worked through him would have killed a human. They were painful, stopped his heart twice, pushed the breath out of him continually, but he still didn’t slow. Up, up, he shimmied, until he was falling to the ground. His boots thumped into concrete, rattling him, and he took off in a run, already going for his guns.