Resisting her was becoming harder. And harder. Literally.

“Hey, who is—Anya? Gideon? Amun? And, like, a thousand others.” Kaia had to shout to be heard over the blaring music. She peered up at him with wide silver-gold eyes, soft with an emotion he couldn’t name. “How did you get all of them here?”

A man could lose himself in those fathomless depths. “I asked and Lucien flashed.” More like he’d demanded and Lucien had dragged his feet. But who cared about details? “They’re only here for the night, though.”

“Sweet! One night, I can love them. Two, and I always want to kill them.”

“Just don’t mention,” he lowered his voice, “first prize. Okay?” They’d be all over his case about it. What he’d done with the Cloak of Invisibility would be thrown in his face. His motives would be questioned. His smarts. They’d want to stay, want to search for the Paring Rod, steal it.

He and Sabin had already chatted. The others needed to guard the two artifacts they already had. They needed to protect the fortress in Buda. They needed to remain vigilant against Hunter attacks. If, however, the two of them failed to steal the Rod on their own before the final Harpy game kicked off, they would call for reinforcements.

Tonight, while Kaia was distracted with her training, they were going to hunt down the Eagleshields. In fact, that’s what Sabin was doing right now. Peering down from the heavens, finding the seemingly unfindable. Boss man should be here any minute to drag him away.

“I won’t mention anything about anything, I swear. And thank you!” A huge grin split Kaia’s red-painted lips and she clapped. Then she jumped up and planted a scorching kiss on his cheek before dashing away. Her mouth burned his flesh, perhaps imprinting his every cell.

The past few days, all he’d been able to do was think about her. She’d been so pale, so still, so weak, and he’d been so desperate to help her, yet unable to do more than feed her his blood…and crave. Oh, had he craved. Still craved.

Something he’d realized, though, was that sleeping with her had to wait until after the games. Right now, he had to remain strong. He couldn’t risk being laid flat by losing a challenge. Any challenge. Even one in the bedroom.

Once her well-being no longer depended on him, nothing would keep him out of those microscopic pants. He had to have her. Had to taste her, hear her cry his name. Hell, he planned to gorge himself on the woman, no matter the consequences. And not just once, as he’d thought to limit himself before, but over and over again.

He watched as she threw herself into Amun’s arms. The warrior looked tired, and there were bruises under his eyes, but he appeared genuinely happy to see Kaia as he spun her around. Gideon, the punked-out keeper of Lies, grabbed her up and hugged her tight. She threw back her head and laughed before messing up his blue hair and tugging at his eyebrow ring. How carefree she was, how uninhibited.

How mine, he thought darkly, then forced himself to add, for now, at least.

Inside his head, Defeat perked up.

Oh, no, you don’t. You just stay silent, you little prick. You weren’t invited to this party.

A growl rang in his ears, and he recognized the sound as the war cry it was.

You want to win the Paring Rod, right? Or would you rather return to Pandora’s box and rot? Because if I fail, Kaia’s our only hope. And if she fails, we’ll lose the artifact. If we lose the artifact, the Hunters could use it to get their hands on the box, suck you back inside. Eternally trapping you.

Silence.

Yeah. He’d thought so. There was nothing Defeat despised more than his memories of the box, the darkness and isolation. What he didn’t mention was that if he managed to steal the Rod, Kaia would hate his damn guts. She’d forgive him, though, as Juliette had forgiven her man for his dark deeds. Right?

“Kye,” he heard Gideon say. “I wouldn’t like you to meet my hideous husband, Scar.” He motioned to the black-haired stunner by his side with a wave of his hand. Since Gideon couldn’t speak a word of truth without experiencing debilitating pain, he’d lied. About everything.

“Actually, the name’s Scarlet,” his wife replied. She was the keeper of Nightmares and when she killed a man in his dreams, he died for real. She was tall, slender and mean as hell. “And in case you’re wondering, I don’t have a penis.”

Why couldn’t I have gotten that demon? Nightmares? Talk about cool.

Defeat harrumphed.

You’re a pain in the ass and you know it.

“I’m Kaia. Or Damn it, Kaia, as Strider likes to call me.”

“I do not,” Strider growled. He called her baby doll. And she was. Now where the hell was Sabin? He needed out of here el pronto.

Kaia ignored him. “Weren’t you, like, locked in the Lords’ dungeon not that long ago?” she asked Scarlet. “Too dangerous to roam free, untrustworthy, violent in the extreme, blah, blah, blah.”

“Yeah. Thankfully, that’s what whips this one into a frenzy,” Scarlet said, motioning to Gideon with a tilt of her stubborn chin.

Gideon wiggled his dark eyebrows, and Kaia chuckled, warm and husky and…hell. Strider felt his body responding. So not a good time to sport wood.

Kaia was in good hands, he thought, especially since Gideon’s were brand-new. Bastard had gotten his old ones cut off by Hunters and had been forced to regrow a pair. At the time, Strider had flipped out about the pain his friend had been forced to endure. Now, he got a good laugh out of it. Anyway, he didn’t have to worry about Kaia—or lust after her, which he would continue to do if he stayed here and watched her—so he made his way to the bar, only then noticing the blonde with pink streaks in her hair and tattoos sleeving her arm. Haidee. Shit. Having her and Kaia in the same room probably wasn’t a good idea.

She turned, two beers in her hands, and when she spotted him, she nodded in acknowledgment. Still she glowed—and not from pregnancy as he’d first assumed. No way she’d drink a beer if she were. Quite simply, she glowed with love, his second assumption.

Once again, there was no pang in his chest when he looked at her and he’d never been happier about that.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, then told the bartender to bring him a beer.

Hurt flashed in her eyes, quickly masked.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean,” he admitted. “Just trying to protect you.”

Smiling sweetly, she shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Amun just returned from the heavens and there was no way I was going to be parted from him today. Especially when I might be parted from him tomorrow.”

How forlorn she sounded. “Why tomorrow?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she grumbled, losing the smile.

He lifted his hand to pat her on the back, to offer comfort. Before contact, he dropped his arm to his side. Even such a token gesture from him might make her uncomfortable, and besides, he realized he shouldn’t be offering.

With their violent, turbulent history, any such offering might tick Amun off. And rightly so. Strider could imagine his own reaction if, say, one of his friends had a past with Kaia—cough Paris cough—and the bastard put his hands on her. Hello, rage.

In that moment, he realized he had never truly desired Haidee as a forever after. Desired her, yes, but he’d never felt so strongly about her, or anyone really, that he couldn’t pick up and walk away. Without regret. Without remorse. Well, Kaia was a maddening, life-and-death exception. For the time being. He needed her. He wanted her, and when the time was right, he would have her. End of story.

That thought alone consumed him with lust, abolishing every other emotion inside him.

Not now, damn it. I have to let her relax and train with the boys. “By the way,” he said to Haidee in an attempt to distract himself. “I know you know why Amun was summoned by Cronus the other day.”

“Yeah. So?” Her dejection eased, her features lighting with amusement. “I’m no longer possessed by the demon of Hate, but I still like to torment you every now and then. Besides, I knew one of your buddies would step in and share the details.”

Win.

Great. Contrary female. Now Strider had to win a battle of wills with her. But he supposed he understood why his demon leapt at this chance for victory, small though it would (hopefully) be. Accommodating as Kaia had been during the drive here, the bastard needed to feed.

“What’d he learn? And yes, we are having a prolonged conversation whether you want to or not. I’ll follow you around like a puppy on a leash all damn night, if that’s what it takes.” If that threat didn’t scare her into answering, he didn’t know what would.

“Nothing.” She sighed. “Amun couldn’t find her—the girl now possessed by the demon of Distrust. Cronus wants him to return to the heavens tomorrow and try again. Now you have both answers. Happy?”

“A little.” He’d won and tiny sparks of pleasure filled his chest. “Tell him—” Strider’s eyes widened as a thought struck him. “Have him call me when Cronus is done with him and he’s rested up a bit.” Amun was too tired for him to burden tonight. But if anyone could find Juliette’s hiding place for the Paring Rod, it was him. Damn, but Strider should have thought of that before. “I need a favor.”

Haidee gulped back her beer. “You and everyone else in the world.”

“Damn, girl. Learn to share.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s hilarious, coming from you.”

“No, it’s ironic. Learn the difference. But, honestly? I’m a lost cause, too set in my ways. You, however, have a fighting chance.”

She laughed and said something in reply, but a piercing shriek in the background drowned out her words. Oh, shit. Strider’s eardrums knew that shriek intimately.

He wheeled around—just as a red blur flew past him, aiming for Haidee.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WIND RUFFLED STRIDER’S HAIR as he reached out and grabbed Kaia by the waist. He was fast, but not fast enough, and by the time he had the woman anchored over his shoulder fireman-style, both of Haidee’s cheeks were claw-slashed and bleeding.