Dark Beginnings: The Darkest Fire / The Darkest Prison / The Darkest Angel. Gena Showalter

But not inner. In walls or in immortals, he thought, thinking of the inner scars he must bare. “Patching will merely strengthen it for a time.” But might not prevent an eventual fall, he did not add.

      What they would do then, he did not know. Chaos would reign. Souls and demons would be able to leave at will.

      Something more would have to be done. But again, he did not know what.

      “Yes. Knowing demons as I have come to, they will return and inflict more damage.” Once more she lifted her gaze to him, kernels of fear swirling where there should only be satisfaction. A crime. “Geryon,” she began, only to press her lush lips together.

      What was left of his heart skidded to an abrupt stop. She was just so lovely, her gentleness and goodness setting her apart from everything he represented. He wanted to duck his head, hide his ugliness from her. “Yes?”

      “I—I—”

      Why so uncomfortable? “You may speak freely with me, goddess.” Whatever she needed, he would provide.

      “Kadence. Please.”

      “Kadence,” he said again, and savored. So good…

      “I—What boon would you ask of me?”

      That was not what she’d meant to ask, he knew it, and could only gape at her, trying not to panic. He had hoped to discuss this after. “A…a kiss.” He waited for her screech of horror. Her denial.

      Instead, she merely opened her mouth in a wide O.

      “You may close your eyes and imagine you are with someone else,” he rushed out. “Or refuse me. I would understand.” Stop talking. You’re only making things worse.

      “I would not refuse,” she said softly, huskily.

      “I—I—” Now he was the one to stutter. She would not refuse?

      She licked her lips. “Shall I give you a kiss now?”

      Now? Suddenly he had trouble breathing. Standing. His knees were shaking, his limbs as heavy as boulders. Dark spots winked over his vision. Now? he wondered again, wildly this time.

      He was not ready. He would make a fool of himself, and she would leave him. No longer want his help. Or worse, she would cast him pitying, disgusted glances the entire time they worked.

      “After,” he managed to croak.

      Was that…disappointment clouding her expression? Surely not.

      “Very well,” she said. No emotion. “After. But Geryon, I must warn you. There is a chance we will not survive.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “After we have repaired the wall, we must hunt and kill the demons who would destroy it. Are you sure you wish to wait?”

      Hunt and destroy the demons. Of course. The answer was so clear, he was embarrassed that he had not thought of it. By killing the High Lords, they would be committing a crime, and they would be punished. Perhaps be put to death.

      “So…your kiss?” she prompted softly.

      Had he not known better, he would almost think her…eager.

      But he did know better. Agreeing to Lucifer’s bargain had been difficult. Or so he’d thought at the time. This was a thousand times more so. “After,” he repeated. He would earn that kiss, and hopefully, she would not ever think back on it and consider him unworthy.

      She nodded, and once again looked away from him. “Then let us begin our work.”

       CHAPTER FIVE

      FOR HOURS GERYON WORKED at repairing the outer wall, pleading with Kadence all the while to remain behind. Demons were dangerous, he said. Demons liked their prey alive and fresh, he said. What he did not say was that she was fragile, breakable. No, he did not need to say it; she read the thoughts in the ever-growing concern in his eyes.

      Through it all, she refused to allow him to be alone. She had not bartered something that would surely earn her the wrath of the gods, only to send him on a mission he could not hope to win without her.

      While the demons were not hers to command, she could force them to bow to her. She hoped. Besides, she might appear fragile and breakable, but she possessed a core of iron.

      Something she’d finally proven to Lucifer earlier. As well as herself.

      As a child, she had been an indomitable force. A whirlwind that trampled anything and everything in her path. It had not been intentional. She’d simply followed the quiet urgings inside her head. Dominate. Master.

       Do you really wish to think of this now?

      No better time, she supposed. Only other thing to think about was why Geryon had not wanted to kiss her when she’d offered. Why he’d actually looked alarmed. A few ideas came to mind: he did not really want to kiss her—but why then would he have requested one? Or he resented her for asking for his aid—this was the most likely—and last, he was simply desperate for a woman, she was the only one available, yet he had to force his body to react first.

      Embarrassing!

       Not helping.

      She could have helped him rather than simply pondering, but he had shooed her away every time she tried. When she joined him anyway, he’d threatened to leave her if she did not stop. So here she was, doing nothing. Useless.

       I am not weak, damn it. Even though, for the most part, I have acted like it.

      When, as a child, she’d realized she had chipped away at her own mother’s strength of mind, turning the once vibrant goddess into a lifeless shell, she had retreated inside herself, afraid of who and what she was. Afraid of what she could do, unintentional though it was.

      Sadly, with those fears came others, as if she’d opened a doorway in her mind and placed a welcome mat out front. Fear of people, places, emotions. For centuries she had acted like the mouse Lucifer had called her.

      Underneath the fears, however, she was still the goddess she’d been born to be: Oppression. She conquered. She did not cower. Please, do not let me cower. Not any longer.

      “I have done all I can for the outer wall,” Geryon suddenly said.

      Kadence had been perched on a nearby rock, and now stood. Her robe fell to her ankles, swaying.

      “Once I pry the gate’s boulders apart—” boulders that blocked the cavern from a yawning pit “—we must hurry. We will only have a small slit to pass through, but we cannot let that slow us.”

      Or someone—or thing—could escape. “I understand,” she said, closing the distance between them.

      “There will be no ledge for us to stand upon. We must hold on to the boulder and work our way down the pit.”

      Only after she nodded did he shove and push, creating the aforementioned slit.

      Instantly flames and scaled arms reached out. Screams permeated the air. Geryon entered first, commanding all to recede. To her surprise, the demons darted away, the flames died, and the screams quieted as she came through, her body swinging from the natural world into the spiritual one. Part of her wanted to believe they had done so because they’d been afraid of her. The other part of her knew they’d feared Geryon’s wrath.

      She held onto the boulder with every bit of her strength as Geryon closed the slit. To let go was to freefall into Hell, a fiery pit just waiting to gobble them up.

       Palms…sweating…

      “Ready, goddess?” He inched his way toward her. He had swung to the left of the gate, and she the right. “Ready?” he insisted, reaching for her. To protect her? Aid her?

      “Yes.”