Gena Showalter: The Darkest Fire

Do not think about that now. She glanced around. The air was smokier here, she noticed, hotter. So hot, in fact, sweat instantly beaded on her skin, trickling down her temples, between her breasts. And as Geryon climbed over her to position himself in front of her, widening the distance between them, no longer did she smell the decadent scent of powerful male; she smelled only the pungent odor of decay. Screams and curses assaulted her ears.

Something fiery brushed the back of her neck, and she yelped.

Geryon jumped into immediate action, growling and swiping out his claw. But the flame receded, and she would swear she heard it laugh.

No, they were not intimidated by her.

"Are you all right?" Geryon asked her.

"Yes," she said, but gods, what had she gotten herself into?

"Perhaps the wall is not as damaged as I feared," Kadence told Geryon. Maintaining a firm grip, she used the jagged stones to edge along, ever conscious of the seemingly endless void awaiting her should she lose her balance. "A goddess can hope, at least."

"Yes, a goddess can hope." Geryon kept a steady pace in front of her, remaining as close as possible every inch of the way without actually touching her.

She yearned to slide against him, drink in his strength, belong to him if only for a moment, but she did not, too afraid of startling him. And not even when a rock tumbled from the small ledge on which she had placed her foot did she relent. Sadly, neither did he.

"Do not show the flames fear," he said. "They feed on it, will try to increase it."

"They are alive?"

"Some of them."

Dear gods. How had she not known? "I did not imagine such a climb would be necessary. I assumed we would flash wherever we needed to go. Silly of me."

"Flash?"

"Yes. The ability to move from one location to another with only a thought."

"Would be difficult to flash along this wall. You might end up in a spot without a ledge. When we finish here, can you flash us to the bottom of the pit? Once there, we can search for the demons on foot."

"No," she said on a sigh. "I wish, but no. I've never taken this route. I would not know where to stop, and might very well cause us to materialize underground."

He did not show any disappointment. "Still, it is a handy power to possess. I envy you."

Poor man. He'd been stuck at the gates of hell for more years than she could count. "If you could flash to anywhere in the world, where would you go?" Once they'd destroyed the demons trying to escape, perhaps she would take him there.

He grunted. "I do not wish to lie to you, goddess, therefore I will not answer your question."

Curiosity bombarded her. Why would he not answer such a question? Unless…did his answer embarrass him? If so, why? She desperately wanted to know, but let the matter drop. For now.

When they reached the far side of the wall, he somehow angled himself behind her. Still he didn't touch her, yet she felt the heat of him pressing into her back, holding her steady. It was not a heat she minded, even amidst the smoldering furnace that was hell. His was…heady.

"I'm sorry to say it's worse than I thought it would be." His breath trekked over her.

"Wh—what?" she asked, horrified. Being near her was worse than he'd thought?

"The wall. What else?"

Thank the gods, she thought, expelling a breath. Foolish woman. Her life depended on this wall. She should not care whether a man found her attractive. Or not.

She forced her gaze straight ahead, her mind centered on her job, not the intriguing man behind her. At least somewhat. Thick claw marks abounded. And what had appeared to be thin grooves on the other side were massive craters here. Hope abandoned her.

"They are more determined than I realized," she said, voice trembling slightly.

Geryon adjusted his grip, his arm just over her shoulder. A tremor raked her. If she stood on her tiptoes, she would feel his skin against her chimation. Though it had been hundreds of years since she'd had a man, she remembered the comfort such simple contact could offer.

"Do not worry. I will not allow them to hurt you."

"And I will not allow them to hurt you," she vowed.

Chuckling, he latched onto her waist. She gasped. Finally. It was amazing and wonderful…wild and intense. But there was no comfort in it, as she'd expected. No, instead she experienced white-hot, searing arousal.

"Geryon?"

"Time to fall, goddess," he said, and then he released the rocks, taking her over the edge with him.

They seemed to fall forever. Geryon retained an iron-edged grip on the trembling Kadence, her hair whipping around them like angry silk ribbons. She didn't scream, something he'd expected, but she did wind her legs around him, something he had not.

It was his first taste of heaven.

"I've got you," he said. Her body fit perfectly against his, soft where he was hard, smooth where he was callused.

"When does it end?" she whispered, but still he caught the undercurrents of panic in her voice.

They were not twirling, were merely dropping, but he knew the sensation could be harrowing. Especially, he reflected, for one used to flashing ly from one place to another. "Soon." He'd fallen like this only once before, when Lucifer took him to the palace to explain his new duties. But he had never forgotten.

Like before, flames kindled all around them, pinpricks of gold in the shuddering darkness. Except before, those flames had flicked like snake tongues, licking at him. That they didn't now…did they fear him? Or the goddess?

She was more everything than Geryon had realized. More courageous. More determined. Every minute he spent with her, his desire for her intensified. She was the break of dawn in the bleakness that was his life. She was refreshing ice in smoldering heat.

She is not for you.

Ugly as he was, she would run fast and far if she knew the many fantasies his mind had begun to weave of them. Him, laying her on the ground, stripping her, dancing his tongue over every delicious inch of her. Her, moaning in pleasure as he tasted her core. Crying out in abandon as he filled her with his shaft.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her still-rising panic evident.

"Nothing's wrong," he lied. "Just a little farther and we'll hit. Landing will jar you, but I'll absorb most of the impact." He moved one of his hands up and onto the base of her neck. Offering comfort, he told himself. He'd tried not to touch her, had fought it, but there'd been no other way to protect her inside the pit.

What was the harm in adjusting a single hand?

"But you stiffened."

More so than she probably realized, he thought dryly. I must stop craving her. Her skin was soft, so soft, and he felt little bumps rise under his palm as he gently massaged.

To his delight, her muscles relaxed under his ministrations. "Tell me what's wrong," she said. "You're hiding something, I can tell. I know this pit is made for souls, not breathing, flesh and blood bodies. Are we going to—"

"No. I swear it. We will live." The conversation seemed to calm her, so he said, "Tell me about you. About your childhood."

"I—all right. But there's not much to tell. I was not allowed out of my home as a child. For the greater good," she added, as though the line had been fed to her many times before.

He hugged her tight, understanding. Because of her nature, she'd been as much an outcast as he was. "Goddess, I—" The air was thickening around them, the flames spraying what looked to be molten teardrops. He recognized the signs; the end was near. "Drop your legs from me, but do not let them touch the ground."

"All rig—"

"Now!"

Boom. They smacked into the ground and Geryon planted his feet as the impact vibrated through him. He tried to remain upright to keep the goddess from the ground, but his knees soon gave out and he collapsed backward.