But she could think of no way to repair the damage she'd done to him. He hadn't kil ed her family, another demon had. He wasn't the one who had kil ed her husband, she was almost positive of that.
Another demon must have.
Probably one of his friends. Stil , it was Amun she had punished, taking someone he loved from him.
She hated herself for that. Wished she could go back.
Wished she had never walked into her husband's bedroom that fateful night. The night everything had changed for her.
But she couldn't and she had, and she hoped that maybe, just maybe, she could make Amun understand the pain she had experienced. That wouldn't be enough to earn his forgiveness, but perhaps it would offer an absolution she wouldn't find otherwise.
Sighing, Haidee donned the robe. Only a few seconds later, she realized Amun hadn't done the thing justice. A bar of soap hadn't touched her, but as the material settled over her, she'd never felt cleaner.
Amazing!
Her gaze returned to him. He was peering into the flames.
He should have looked like a monk, but even draped by the shapeless cloth as he was, he looked wicked and sensual and so damn powerful.
He'd mental y distanced himself, but she didn't let that stop her. She settled in front of him, trying not to tremble. He didn't spare her a glance, but reached inside the backpack and withdrew an apricot.
"I'd like you to do something for me," she said. "Think of it as an extension of the quiet game."
He had been in the process of biting into the fruit. His hand stil ed and at last he faced her, his dark eyes wary. Can it wait? We've been here too long. We need to leave.
Suddenly he was in a hurry? Hardly. "No. We have to do this now." If they waited, she might lose her nerve.
He nodded stiffly. Very wel .
Haidee squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "You've seen a smal piece of my wedding night. Wil you...wil you now watch the rest?"
His wariness intensified, and it was almost painful to see. I can't control what secrets the demon shows me, Haidee.
"But you can try." He had to try.
I don't think you're understanding me. To show you anything, I would have to use my demon.
"Yes, I do understand that. I'd stil like you to try."
He studied her. May I ask why?
So polite, when he stil clearly wanted no part of this. Did he fear she planned to show him a time she'd spent in another man's bed? Did he think she planned to punish him for being what he was? "You can ask, but I won't tel you." She didn't want him refusing, and he would if he knew the truth going in.
Probably not a smart move on her part, though. He would have to trust her. Blind trust, at that.
Something a Lord could never give a Hunter.
A sigh wafted through her mind. Al right. I wil try.
The acquiescence surprised her, and for some reason, that surprise seemed to irritate him.
Are you ready? he snapped.
"Yes." No. Butterflies danced through her stomach. "Yes,"
she repeated for her own benefit.
Motions stiff, Amun set the juicy apricot aside and fit his strong, cal used hands against her temples. As always, he was as warm and welcome as a summer day. But now that she'd had those big hands on her breasts, between her legs, inside her, having them placed so innocently was the most decadent of tortures.
She wiggled to get closer to him, settling only when their knees were touching, his wild scent surrounding her. If he did indeed tap into her memory, he would see one of the most painful experiences of her too-long life. A recol ection that never failed to tear her up and leave her broken heart bleeding. She would need his strength.
Concentrate on your breathing, he said, and she jumped at the gentle intrusion in her mind. And close your eyes.
Every friend she had would have cal ed her stupid for trusting a demon like she was about to do, but she didn't care. Amun had given her the necessary blind trust, she could do no less. Her eyelids fluttered closed, hiding the features she'd come to crave, and she drew in a large quantity of oxygen. Slowly she released every molecule.
Good girl.
On her next inhalation, she felt tendrils of something...warm and dark drifting through her, rattling her mind as the wind often rattled the leaves on trees. She had experienced this before, but she'd been drugged, lethargic, and unaware of what that warmth and darkness represented. Now she knew-and tried not to panic.
She had asked for this. She wanted this.
But she didn't stay calm for long.
Demon, she thought wildly. Her heart crashed into her ribs, threatening to burst from her chest.
Blindly she reached up and wrapped her fingers around the solid warmth of Amun's wrists. In and out she continued to breathe. She held on as tightly as she could, not to push him away, but to remind herself that he was with her. That he wouldn't let his beastly half hurt her.
And, to be honest, the demon had never real y tried.
Actual y, the demon had helped her, revealing her sister's beautiful face, showing her the joyous minutes before her husband's death. Why had the creature done that? Why had it shown her good things?
Weren't evil beings supposed to focus on the bad?
Though she couldn't fathom the answers, she relaxed. And as the rigidity melted from her spine, colorful images began to flash through her mind.
Once again she saw her little sister's cherubic face, smiling back at her as they raced through a lush meadow. Innocent, carefree giggles echoed between them, and for a moment, only a moment, the cold completely washed from Haidee's body, leaving her drenched in radiant heat.
The image shifted-come back! she mental y shouted, not yet ready to be separated from her sister again. But then she saw the adult version of herself standing on that long-ago veranda, lavender wedding gown draping her slender frame, her golden curls practical y glowing in the moonlight.
This was it. What she wanted to show Amun-what she dreaded showing Amun.
"Are you nervous, my sweet?" her former servant said, pul ing her back into the vision.
Haidee watched herself turn, heard herself reply to Leora. A conversation fol owed, dragging into eternity. When would they quiet? When would they-?
The old woman pivoted on her sandaled heel and led Haidee inside a torch-lit hal way. Toward the master's bedchamber.
This was it, she thought again. Haidee's grip tightened on Amun, tremors rocking her. Just as before, the arching doorway loomed closer...closer stil ...only this time, she didn't try to stop herself.
Closer...
As Leora slowed, she smiled over her shoulder. Final y they reached the door, and the servant stepped aside.
Haidee wanted to vomit as she saw herself reach out. Saw her fingers curl around the edge of the curtain and move the material aside. Her shoulders squared as she stepped inside the chamber, the curtain fal ing back into place behind her.
At first, the Haidee in the vision couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. But the smel , oh, God, the smel ...
metal ic, coppery...mixed with the stench of emptied bowels. She knew that smel very wel : death.
Once white wal s were splattered with crimson. On the floor, her husband lay in pieces. Hysteria bubbled inside her as she spun. The carnage-there was no escaping it. Solon...
a piece here, a piece there, a piece everywhere. The words fil ed her mind, her encroaching madness making them a song. Her knees knocked together, and dizziness nearly drowned her. Frigid breath sawed in and out of her nose, uncontrol able now.
Then she saw something far worse than the carnage.
In the center of the room, the creature from her nightmares floated above a coagulated puddle of blood.
Just as before, the black hood was drawn over his face, shielding his features. But in the midst of the shadows, she could see the glowing red of his eyes.
Slowly he lifted one arm, a single gnarled finger extended in her direction. Rage pulsed from him, so much rage, enveloping her in malevolence. Hate fol owed. So much hate.
The eeriness of his presence jolted her out of her quiet horror, and she screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed. She couldn't stop herself, even though each new wail scraped her throat raw.
She pressed her palms over her ears. That didn't help. Stil the screaming ravaged her.
The creature floated toward her, and she at last quieted. So close...almost upon her...she scrambled backward until she hit the wal . Just before he reached her, several black-clad men stormed from the terrace and into the room, their weapons raised.
"There!" one of the men cried.
"He was right! The demon's here!"
Demon? He? How had "he" known?
They pounded toward her nightmare, blades raised, ready to hack him into bits, just as he'd done to her husband. Oh, God. Her husband. Maybe the creature hadn't kil ed him after al , because there were others just like him in the room, and now they exited the shadows, their eyes glowing bright red.
The creature disappeared before either the humans or the others could reach him.
Beside her, the curtain swished open. Haidee's knees gave out as Leora and the guards that Solon had ordered to remain nearby stormed inside. There were so many of them, and in their haste to discover what had happened, they failed to see her. She was kicked forward, Solon's blood soaking her beautiful gown.
The guards attacked the men from the terrace and the shadows, clearly blaming them al for their master's murder.
Metal whistled through air, swords clanged together, skin popped as it ripped and men grunted in pain.
Then another set of warriors flew into the room. They, too, came from the terrace. They must have scaled the side of the house. They were far bigger and more muscled than any of the others- and their eyes glowed that same shade of evil-red as every one of Solon's possible kil ers.
"More demons!" someone shouted.
"These must have fol owed us!"
"Hunters," one of the new warriors growled, the word somehow echoing with a thousand other voices.
Each of them tormented. "Die. Wil die."
A new battle began, this one a macabre dance of glinting silver and sharpened claws, and body after body fel around her. Even the aged, defenseless Leora was struck down, a dagger protruding from her chest. There were more grunts, many agonized moans and brutalized screams, each blending with the renewal of her own. She couldn't breathe, had to breathe. Had to escape.
More servants and guards rushed into the room, but they, too, quickly became victims of the bloody battle. Breathe, breathe. Haidee tried to scramble away, to hide, but the floor was so slippery, blocked by al the fal en, and she gained no ground. And then someone fisted the back of her robe and dragged her to her feet. Oh, God. This was it, the end.
In reality, Haidee braced herself, knowing what came next.
She tried to distance herself from the scene, to pretend she was only watching a movie. That the people dying around her were actors, that their pain was faked.
That's when the scene slowed, and, through Amun and his demon, she was able to see things she'd never noticed before. Suddenly, the players had names, faces she recognized. There was Strider-Defeat-lost to his demon and slashing at a Hunter. There was Lucien-Death-his mismatched eyes colder than the ice storm inside her.
She'd seen pictures of him over the years, and knew he was now scarred. But he wasn't scarred as he fought with lethal menace, and his beauty was breathtaking. Or would have been, if someone else's blood hadn't dripped from his mouth. He'd just ripped a man's throat out with his teeth.
Sabin, Kane, Cameo. Gideon, Paris, Maddox. Reyes.
Baden, his red hair actual y crackling with living flames.
Aeron, his black wings outstretched, the ends as sharp as daggers. Al but Torin and Amun were there.
No, not true, she realized as her gaze caught on the man who had grabbed her robe.
Amun. Amun held her.
So dark, wild in a way she had never seen him before. His eyes, like twin rubies plucked from the fires of hel . His lips, etched into a permanent scowl. His teeth, sharp and white and almost...monstrous. His cheekbones were sliced open, bone revealed.
He had one arm anchored around her waist, preventing her from bolting. Not that she could have. Her muscles were paralyzed with fear. Even as a Hunter leapt toward them, sword raised.
Amun swung her behind him-and a sword that had been arcing toward him cut her from one side of her throat to the other. A scream of agony gurgled from her as her legs gave out. But she didn't drop to the floor; Amun stil held her. He turned then, and the real Haidee registered the glint of shock that suddenly consumed his features as he saw what had happened to her.
She'd always thought the man holding her had used her as a human shield, but just then, she realized he'd tried to save her. Even then. Even lost to his demon.
In the vision, she sagged from his now-loosened grip, her world going dark.
That was the first time she died.
But even then, the vision didn't fade. Amun's memory must have picked up where hers had left off, because the fight continued around her lifeless body. She watched as an enraged Amun stepped over her and ripped into the man who had kil ed her, tearing him from limb to limb, just as Solon had been torn.
Amun made sure the rending hurt. The Hunter screamed with every new slice, horrified pleas for mercy.
But mercy wasn't something anyone in that room would experience.
And because Amun was distracted by his task, another Hunter managed to sneak up on him and make a play for his head.
Fast as he dodged, the blade merely cut into his neck, nicking him. With a roar, he spun around, arm rising to bat the offender away. The Hunter had already repositioned himself, however, and slashed once again. This time, the blade struck true, hitting spine, and Amun's throat opened up al the way.
Blood poured, and he col apsed, his body beside hers.