The Darkest Lie. Gena ShowalterЧитать онлайн книгу.
mirror, though, just in case.
“You’re begging for another fork in your chest,” she muttered.
Again ignoring her, he shouted, “Cron!” Stop. You’re ticked at him. There has to be another way. But Gideon knew better, and wouldn’t lie to himself. Not now of all times. “I don’t need you!”
In the passenger seat, Scarlet stiffened. “Cron. As in Cronus?”
He nodded.
She hissed in outrage and jerked at the cuffs. “What the hell do you want with him? I hate him!”
Did she have a beef with everyone? “Not answers, okay?”
“Well, you can let me go and then chat with him.” There was an edge creeping into her voice. One he’d never heard before, even when she’d stabbed him. Her struggles increased, and then she was kicking at the passenger door to pop it open.
Was she…scared of the god? Couldn’t be. Scarlet had faced down four potential Hunters without any hesitation.
“My reasons for…avoiding him are…not urgent.” His stomach twisted. He’d almost spoken the truth. Had almost told her that his reasons for summoning the god were indeed urgent. He’d had to force out the lies. “And those reasons aren’t life-and-death.”
“I don’t give a shit!” Slam, slam, boot against plastic. Crack. “I don’t want him here.”
Oh, yes. She was scared. Why?
Rather than ask—he knew she wouldn’t tell him if he did—he changed the subject to give her a moment to calm down. If she kept pulling at him, he was going to lose a limb. Again. “Did you have to leave those kids alive?” She’d killed them without any hint of mercy.
He would have done the same, sure, but he was a guy. Weren’t girls supposed to be softhearted and shit? Well, besides Cameo, keeper of Misery. She could kill an enemy while filing her nails.
“Yeah.” Scarlet’s frantic bid for freedom slowed, then ceased altogether. She peeked at him over her shoulder. “So?”
“Why? We could have pleasured them for information.”
Her lips twitched as if she were suddenly fighting a grin. “Why, Gideon, I didn’t know you swung that way. They were cute, though, weren’t they? Especially the blond. Is that who you were imagining sexing up?”
Now that tone he recognized. Sugar-sweet and irritating as hell. But yeah, the blond had been cute from what he’d been able to tell, and he hated that she’d noticed. Actually, he hated that she preferred blonds. His wife should—You don’t know that she’s your wife.
Not mine, Lies piped up. Not mine.
Meaning Lies was claiming her? Hardly. If anyone claimed her, it would be Gideon. If they were married.
And then what? he wondered. He still planned to return her to the dungeon, no matter what. Which meant she was going to hate him. As if she didn’t already. As poorly as she’d treated his man-parts, he suspected that she did.
His guilt returned, filling his nose, his lungs, then sweeping through his bloodstream. Has to be this way.
Yes. She’s not mine.
Zip it.
“Why did you leave them alive?” he insisted.
Scarlet’s seemingly delicate shoulders lifted in a negligent shrug. “They were there to hurt us. If I had let them live, they would have had the opportunity to come back for us. To poison others against us. And their determination would have been greater than ever.”
What she said made sense, but it also caused his stomach to clench. The absolute conviction in her voice had given him a searing glimpse inside her psyche. One she would undoubtedly prefer he not have. Once, she’d let an enemy go rather than kill him and that enemy had returned for her. Had hurt her. With others in tow.
How had the bastards hurt her? Raped her? Beat her? The steering wheel whined as it bent, nearly snapping in half, and Gideon forced himself to loosen his hold. If, after he’d been kicked out of the heavens, he’d gone back for her, as he once might have promised her, would such a fate have been prevented?
Gods. His guilt became a cancer, eating at him, leaving him raw and agonized. Again, he wanted to ask her for an explanation, but again, he knew she would tell him nothing. Until they reached their destination and he seduced her. Which he would do, guilty or not. Before their uninvited guests had arrived, she’d looked ready to accept his kiss. Hell, she’d looked ready to return it with equal passion.
He wanted that. Needed it.
“Nothing to say?” she asked. “No lame reply?”
Lame? He did the best he could, damn it. She’s just frustrated, lashing out. But really, this wasn’t entirely his fault, he reminded himself. Something had happened to his memories. Not that the knowledge eased his guilt.
Actually, his memories were another thing to discuss with Cronus.
“Cron!” he found himself shouting a second time.
And just as before, Scarlet began struggling for freedom. “I told you I don’t want him here. I told you—”
But the rest of her words were lost to him. One moment Gideon was at the wheel, cuffed to Scarlet and motoring down the long, winding roads, the next he was in the heavens, puffy white clouds surrounding him, Scarlet nowhere to be seen.
Trying not to panic, he spun, wild gaze searching for her. Only more of those clouds greeted him. There were no roads, no buildings and no freaking people. “Scar,” he shouted, heart ready to burst from his ribs. He had to find her. Couldn’t let her—
“Rest easy, Lies. Time has momentarily ceased for your female. When I return you, all will be as you left it.”
Another turn, and he was peering over at Cronus. His heartbeat slowed, even as he tried not to gape. The king looked younger every time Gideon saw him, but this…this…Too young, he thought with a shake of his head.
Gone was the silver hair. In its place were startling locks of honey-brown and pale gold. Gone was the wrinkled skin. Now he was unlined, his complexion smooth and sun-kissed.
A white robe that appeared as soft as the clouds draped him, and sandals wrapped around the veined, scarred feet of a warrior. He exuded so much power, Gideon felt the weight of every compelling wave hammering at his shoulders. Remaining standing required power of his own. A lot of it.
“Why did you summon me?” the king asked.
“Lastly—” first off “—I don’t want your vow that all will be as you didn’t say.” Confusing, even to him, but important.
Like Scarlet, Cronus knew him well enough to discern what he was truly saying. Confusing or not. “You have my word. She isn’t going to crash. She isn’t even going to know you were gone unless you tell her.” And, thankfully, Cronus wasn’t upset by his demand. “Happy now?”
A little irritated, perhaps, but not upset. Good. “No. Not happy.” Every muscle in his body released its vise-grip on bone. “No, thank you.”
“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for not telling you how to find Aeron’s spirit?”
No. Never. Rather than admit that to the king, however, he remained silent. Better silence than punishment. Even he was smart enough to know that. But the question explained the king’s sudden patient benevolence.
“What I did,” Cronus said, a little stiff now, “I did for your own good.”
Making Gideon beg and then denying him what he begged for had been for his own good? Yeah. Right.
“You are an immortal, not a god, so your