The Darkest Warrior (Lords of the Underworld 14)

"I told you, I'm a vegetarian. I don't mind working for my food, as long as it's food I can eat."

He narrowed his eyes. "You can eat the food I provide, you simply prefer not to. What you don't understand is this. You don't have to like the tasks I give you, but you still have to do them. You don't have to like the food I give you, but you still have to eat it."

Up went her chin. "I'd rather starve to death."

He offered his cruelest smile, a mere twisting of his lips. "That is no longer an option for you."

"But--"

"You'll do as you're told, or you'll suffer."

Fear pulsed from her, and her teeth began to chatter. "You would hurt me?"

"Yes." He would always do what he must to gain what he needed.

She stumbled back, as if she'd been pushed. "I'll hate you."

As Indifference grew louder, the invisible knife returned, twisting in Puck's gut once again. "As you've probably figured out, I won't be bothered in the least."

Different emotions played in her eyes, fear giving way to anger, anger giving way to incredulity. She lifted her chin another notch. "Okay, we're done. I want to go home."

Denial screamed inside his head. "I'm your home." For now.

"I want to go to my old home."

"No. You'll live in my realm."

As white as morning fog, she grated, "Fine. Tonight I'll gather twigs and search for berries--"

"Twigs are for fire, and there are no berries in this realm."

"What do the rabbits eat, then?"

"They aren't rabbits, lass."

After absorbing his words, she pressed her hands against her midsection, as if she feared losing her last meal, whatever it had been. "Your situation has changed. Shouldn't you change your rules, too?"

Her point...had merit. Also, forcing her to eat meat--and earning her hatred--could slow their journey home. She might fight him every step of the way. But lack of nourishment could slow them down, too.

A compromise could save him a whole lot of trouble.

Very well. Puck waved his fingers, beckoning her. Though she dragged her feet, she obeyed the summons without protest. And, when he patted the stone ledge, she sat without hesitation and crossed her legs.

Silent, motions slow and careful, he removed her boots and socks. The sight of her delicate toes, with her nails painted baby blue, sent his heart thudding against his ribs. Temptation beckoned...and he caved, tracing a fingertip over the sweet little digits. Indifference roared.

At the first brush of skin against skin, Gillian flinched.

Cursing the males who had brought her to this point, he dipped her bare feet into the hot, bubbling water, and she gasped, surprised, before closing her eyes in delight.

One day, he would see that look on her face for another reason entirely...

Puck gnashed his teeth. "Why do you not eat meat? Meat makes you strong."

Her eyelids fluttered apart, her gaze finding his. "When I was younger, my stepbrothers would whisper to me at the dinner table. If we had hamburgers, they asked how long I thought the cow had screamed before it died. If we had chicken, they asked if I imagined baby chicks crying for their momma."

His poor, sweet Gillian. Abused physically, mentally and emotionally.

Remain objective! Refuse to sympathize. "You are far more damaged than I realized." A statement of fact, without any hint of emotion. Good.

"I know," she said, and heaved a full body sigh. "Maybe we could bargain? If you'll find me something to eat...besides animals...I'll do my best to make you feel an emotion, like happiness, or even sadness. That's why you bonded to me, after all. So I would help you feel something, anything."

His lies were coming back to haunt him. He'd wanted to be a project for her, so she would have a reason to spend time with him. If she constantly tried to make him happy...

He would weaken. Maybe. Maybe not.

Why do I not feel you as strongly, fiend?

There was no need to continue the deception. Besides, she'd already made him feel plenty. Pretending he'd felt nothing, so she would continue to try, would make him a liar.

So? He'd been much worse.

He should tell her the truth, and promise to punish her if she attempted to make him feel anything. Except...

Despite the danger, he liked the idea of Gillian doing everything in her power to make him feel...satisfied. Yes. That.

He would give anything--except his mission--to be "seduced" by his wife. First, he would have to edge her in that direction.

"You'll do your best to make me feel, anyway," he said. This villain-pretending-to-be-a-romance-novel-hero will make his heroine work for it. "Bargain or no."

Smug now, she flicked water droplets at him. "Is that something you can force me to do?"

"No," he said, and plastered on a frown meant to intimidate her. She thought she had him by the balls.

Soon, little wife. Soon.

"Then a deal is the only way to guarantee my cooperation. So, if you want me to make you feel something, you'll feed me something other than meat. Oh! And you'll agree to take me home after I succeed. And you won't hurt William. Or Torin. Ever."

He almost snapped, Do not speak the names of other males.

Stiff now, he spread her legs and stepped between them. Quick as lightning, she placed her hands on his chest to push him away. He merely flattened his own atop hers and stayed put.

He yearned to ease her fears of intimacy--soon, he reminded himself.

"How will you make me feel an emotion?" he asked. An emotion he would never admit to feeling, forcing her to continue trying.

"I--I'll tell you jokes," she said. "Or sad stories."

Gaze hot on her, he said, "Others have tried to amuse me or make me sad and failed." Truth. Once, Cameron had been determined to force some kind of reaction from him. The attempt hadn't ended well for the keeper of Obsession, who suffered punishment whenever he failed to complete a "mission."

"Were the others able to make you feel anything previously? Anything at all?"

"No."

Smug again, she said, "Then I have an advantage."

"But I want to feel something other than amused, or sad."

She gulped. "I don't... I can't..."

"How else will you do it?" he asked. "Try to make me feel, I mean."

Her breath turned ragged, every inhalation labored. "You'll just have to wait and see, I guess."

"If you fail to amuse me or make me sad by the time we reach my homeland, will you try what I suggest?"

As she shifted underneath his hands, debating her response, anticipation held him in a savage vise grip. She knew what he would request--desire.

"Yes, I will." A croak. "If you'll feed me fruits and vegetables while we're together and return me to Budapest once I've made you feel...something."

A bright but brief flare of triumph teased him, and he almost grinned. Though he wanted to linger near Gillian, he forced himself to release her and moved to the other side of the spring.

"Very well, lass. You have a deal."

13

Day 3 of Marriage

"It was a truth universally acknowledged that a married girl in possession of a dagger would eventually stab her husband," Gillian muttered, hurrying to keep up with Puck.

Not too long ago, they'd entered a new realm. A dew-drenched rain forest with waterlogged swamplands and a dense undergrowth of vegetation, all tied together by a thick canopy of foliage overhead. Though pretty, the terrain proved unfriendly. Fire erupted along every body of water, spikes popped from tree trunks whenever she approached and leaves snapped at her with actual fangs.

Each creature she encountered turned out to be a mix of two types of wildlife: a gorilla with the bottom half of a spider; a snake with hind legs; palm-size flies with scorpion stingers.

Not once had Gillian screeched with shock or fear. A true miracle. She'd even managed to keep up with Puck without complaint, huffing and puffing. The only advantage? The scen

t of peat smoke and lavender remained strong in her nose.

Oh, and she wasn't hungry anymore. At some point, he'd fed her a delicious meal of berries and plants. Good man...bad man... The jury was still out.

Any time thoughts of William arose, she beat them back with an icy determination she'd never before possessed. Sadness would only slow her down. And if ever the sadness proved stronger than her determination, she focused on Puck; wariness mixed with fascination, overshadowing everything else.

He was shirtless, his strength on spectacular display. A butterfly tattoo would appear on his back only to vanish, then reappear somewhere else. Once, when he'd pivoted to avoid a limb to the face, she'd caught sight of the butterfly on his chest. Sometimes, it even changed colors.

Every Lord of the Underworld bore a similar mark. Or rather, all demon-possessed immortals did. Gillian had never found it sexy.

I still don't. No way, no how. Except...

Can't stop staring, my mouth watering.

At least that odd roaring had stopped blasting through her head.

Another image adorned Puck's chest: a cluster of flowers twined around an azure peacock with a long beak and two circles for feet. One of those circles snaked around his nipple while the other rested in the center of his sternum. Exquisite detailing made the bird look ready to fly out of his skin.

He'd replaced his tattered loincloth with a pair of pants he'd made using the inside lining from the coats they'd found in ice hell. Quite resourceful, her Puck. And somehow more beautiful with every hour that passed.

How hard were those horns? Was his dark skin as cold as his attitude, or as hot as fire? How soft was the fur on his legs?